It'll be a week tomorrow since Vanessa and I had our solo (i.e. Jamie wasn't with us) overnight jaunt to the place that makes Dubai seem like one big pound shop: Dublin.
I hadn't visited the Fair City for more than 20 years. Indeed, I'd only ever been there three times previously, on each occasion to see Ireland playing rugby or to play myself. And I was too young to have a drink so wouldn't know how expensive it was back then.
But I can certainly tell you how expensive it is now - 12 euros 90 for two scoops anyone? I couldn't believe it. Indeed, so shocked was I that I had to have about another eight pints just to settle my nerves.
We spent most of our Sunday evening in the wonderfully-titled VAT Bar listening to some aging fiddley-dee-ers play the old faves - you can just about make two of their number out below.
Also in our itinerary was a look around the beautiful grounds of Trinity College (in which I insisted on having my photo taken at the exact spot where, as a member of the touring Coleraine Inst under-13s, I was first offered cocaine).
We bought Jamie a new duck for his bath or, to give it its proper title, a Paddy Quacker (pictured at the top).
And we stayed at The Clarence, a boutique hotel in Dublin's Temple Bar owned by Bono and The Edge from U2 (Vanessa got a deal).
It was certainly a nice place but it didn't have Sky Sports or tea-making facilities, both cardinal sins in my book.
Despite apparently being in the city that night, Bono was nowhere to be see or heard, the only conclusion therefore being he was boring the arse off someone else with tales of his general magnificence. That, for me, was a definite plus.
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