Dublin Again

When some of my plans fell apart I drove back to Dublin and my refuge with A & T. I think I spent almost one full day in/on bed. Reading. Washing. Just taking time out to replenish my thoughts and my energy.

It was during this time that I chose to go to an Irish pub right in the heart of Dublin one afternoon. I'd seen on the window the day before that there would be Irish Dancing in the afternoon, and I longed to see some.

I caught the bus into the city and alighted at my familiar spot near the River Liffey and wandered down to the Pub. The sign had gone from the window, and when I went in to ask about the dancing, I was told that there were no plans for Irish dancing that day. They had music though, so I ordered a glass of wine and found my way to a table near the band.

It was a joy just to sit and listen to the entertaining muso. I loved it when he spoke - the strong Irish accent made you realise where you were.

I looked around - as if to eyeball someone. Perhaps someone would come an sit at my table. A guy maybe? A rich Irishman looking for a nice Aussie lady? I wish!

Most of the Irish blokes there that day didn't look rich (how would I know anyway!), and seemed to have very red noses and flushed complextion (from all the Guinness I wonder), and awful teeth. I discussed with with T later, and we agreed that good looking Irish guys are few and far between - or perhaps I was in the wrong Irish pub.

It had been a joke with my friends back home that I might have some sort of fling with the mythical rich Irishman. Whilst it might make it to the pages of some fiction I am writing, the reality was that I sat alone all afternoon, and as I was uncomfortable in this foreign city without a companion, I scampered off back to A & T's place before dark.

Perhaps the rich handsome Irishmen only come out after dark - that's why I didn't find one!