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We breakfasted at Bendini & Shaw, near the hotel and headed on the DART to Howth. As far as I know this place is pronounced "How-t". We had a few other options - "How-th", "Hoe-t" and (in the style of the old Wimbledon linesman) "Oight".
Howth is a small fishing town which used to be the main port for Dublin (before the unpronounceable Dunlaoghaire came along, undoubtedly). We sampled some sea air, which proved to be freezing, but it was nice to be away from the big smoke. This probably a good description of Dublin at the time - the big smoke - a relatively large built up area with a huge quantity of smokers.
A few weeks ago they made Dublin totally non-smoking. I wonder how that has changed the city. I suppose I'll have to make yet another visit and find out. That place is becoming somewhat troublesome.
Quite what I made of Howth is anyone's guess. I suspect I thought that it smelled of fish. I noted down that I like their sausage rolls. I also noted down something about eating sandwiches. Dull dull dull. I think there may have been a rock there or something. Pass. Not a very memorable recommendation, but it had been a recommendation - made to us by a certain chap named George. He was clearly making himself a significant player in this story.
The DART back to Dublin was full of the sort of people we know as Charvas in Newcastle. In Manchester/Liverpool, they're known as Scallies. I believe they're Tinkers in Dublin. Ahh, the comedy peasant class of our fair nations. These people wore Reebok. I'm sure the manufacturers would prefer to distance themselves from these people. On this train I had my first failure making eyes at a child. Usually in a battle of making eyes and faces at a small child, I win - the prize being that the kid gets all smiley, or, better still, a fit of the giggles. I suspect that the ultimate prize might be luring the child to follow me, like the pied piper of Hamlyn, but I have no use for small children, so I usually stop if they start to reach out of their pushchairs - I'm an entertainer, I don't need commitment. Anyway, this child failed to react - I was, perhaps thwarted by a blanket - I think it was either using it as a shield from my jolly gaze, or perhaps couldn't see enough of me to be amused.
Back in Dublin, we visited Christ Church and looked at its ancient tiles, with their excellent grouting. You could pay a donation if you wanted and I paid them the amount they suggested. Good grouting deserves top dollar.
On the way back to the hotel we even managed to enjoy a virtually smoke-free coffee in a coffee shop with plenty of non-smoking areas. I reckon they probably even used smokeless fuels to heat the place. A true phenomenon of its time.
19 May 2004
Ashley Frieze