Dublin, Domhnach October 11th

Brash Americans with loud voices were being discreet in the lobby of the Burlington, as I made my way to reception. Seeking stamps, Laura directed me to the consierge's desk. Finbar, of the florid complexion, informed me they had a franking machine that would just fit the bill.

The line to the breakfast buffet was short and we were soon seated with silver service teapots steaming. A procession of uniformed staff cleared tables and brought toast to unappreciative Russians and Americans - God, they are rude! I passed on the kippers and headed straight for the eggs and black puddings. Even the white bits were black.

Rather than play Russian Roulette with our euro, we decided to walk into Dublin, passing on the tacsai. Entering St Stephen's Green by a corner gate we wandered by a statue commemorating Thomas M Kettle, a casualty of the 1916 uprising. He died not for flag, nor king, nor emperor. But for a dream born in a herdsmen's shed. And for the secret scripture of the poor.

Needing a comfort stop, we headed into Burger King for flavourless coffee. Great music, despite the bland offerings: Double Barrel by Dave and Ansel Collins just pipping Steve Miller's The Joker. Out into Grafton Street we passed a number of good buskers and human statues, one the spitting image of Dr Who's Davros. A statue of Thin Lizzy's Phil Lynnot, complete with Fender Precision, was located outside a bar. Sweet Molly Malone's statue led us to the Hop On-Hop Off bus.

Our driver Eammon had a quip for every stop. His best was delivered at the cemetary by St Patrick's cathedral: The burial plot of the man who invented the cross word is nearby. Three across and six down!. We alighted at the stop next to the Guiness Storehouse where we spent a very enjoyable few hours that culminated with a pint each in the Gravity Bar, Dublin's highest with 360 degree views across the city. back on the Hop On-Hop Off for a blowy drive through Phoenix Park, Europe's largest enclosed park that is five times larger that Hyde Park in London. No deer were visible.

Off the red bus, onto the yellow, off the yellow in O'Connell Street and back on the red for our trip back near The Burlington. Up Pembroke Street and along Leeson Street Lower and across into Upper, round the corner and straight into Morrisey's bar for a couple of rounds. Three men meet in a bar - an Irishman, and Australian and a Brazilian..............? Having missed lunch we settled for toasted ham and cheese sandwiches.