Film noir

After finishing the current job, the house was put into some semblance of order and focus moved to the trip to Lisbon. I met Carl and his luggage at the local where the couple next to us offered us this interesting dynamic that would lend itself to the plot of a classic film noir. From there we went on for a meal in Kinara, an Indian restaurant in Clontarf. Verdict: okay, but not great. It was ridiculously dark where our table was: so dark that it was difficult to read the menu. The menu was fascinating, and it took quite a while to decide what to order. In the end I'd have to say that it was all a bit wimpish. I really can't understand why Indian restaurants can't be honest to their culinary culture. What's so difficult about serving real Indian food in an Indian restaurant? Kinara wasn't the worst I've experienced (not by any means), but it was on the verge of failing the authentic test.

While there I remembered that yesterday was my cousin's birthday (sort of, she's like Joe Blogs, and is a leap baby). I phoned her in the  US, spoke to her husband, and phoned again an hour later to speak to the lady herself and wish her a happy whatever the number is. We dropped into The Sheds pub afterwards for a couple of real drinks (what a great pub!). Back home afterwards it was a question of sorting out packing for tomorrow's trip to Lisbon. The flight's at 7.00 am, so the taxi is booked for 5.30. It's after 3.00 am as I write this, so tiredness will probably set in at some stage tomorrow.