22nd june 2004
wondering 0 rocks

lady with parasol: one of many

    Your correspondent skimmed on a
    flivver into Dub and was in the thick
    of things by 9 am. Weather was good
    value, seaborne clouds, awnings,
    pineapple light and vanilla airs all     doing their stuff. First to the tower
    where a Boylan sat among the
    throng on the gunrest; then a paddle
    on Sandymount beach; then a
    scamper into town for lunch. The     crowd in Davy Byrne's was fierce: the     smell of gorgonzola was so thick you     could've run mice across it. I'm not     sure how Bloom survived without
    a drink until his cider in the Ormond:
    half an hour after the cheese, the     mustard and the wine I was parched     and needed a pint. And the Ormond,     after a walk on the quays, was a bit of a
    shock: The Ormond Quay Hotel and
    Conference Centre, it said. And the bar?
The Sirens Lounge. No bronze by gold. No go. Even the dedicated dressers-up had their drinks outside in the street. Then a foxed attempt to go to Howth, trains had died; a guard announced the fact to a few hundred sweating commuters and added Don't worry - yez'll all get home - somehow.
A grand day out - and the city was so easily recognized, so familiar after all the years even under its tinted glass and euros.
Hush! Caution! Echoland!