A good day

What a good day!

1.
Finalised artwork for an itinerary for the wedding we're going to in Sitges (another job for the push-your-luck doing-a-favour-for-them clients) and met them in town with finished artwork to talk the technical talk with the print shop.

2.
On from there to the National Concert Hall for a lunchtime concert by Jack & Mac (ex collegaues from my Irish Life days) doing their Tribute to Flanders and Swann. Great fun.

3.
On to Malahide to meet Cathal, a music group buddy who's moved to the UK and who was back home for a few days. We had a terrific time together. We began in Wright's pub, which was new to me. This is the interior. The mural sums up the type of background music that was playing. It was a bit too loud for my liking, though, so we left there after one drink and moved on to Gibneys, which is the pub in Malahide. A pleasant session in the open air in the beer garden there led on to an even more pleasant time in Chez Sara wine bar cum restaurant (or is it the other way round?). You certainly wouldn't know there was a recession on if you were to judge from Chez Sara. We'd intended just having a bottle of wine, but the cooking smells were delightful when we went inside and we sudden;y felt hungry. They were booked out until 9.00, so we sat at the bar, had a couple of entrées (really good, especially the soup) and a rather nice bottle of Chilean Sauvignon Blanc. We were mesmerised by the cool efficiency of the chef who single-handedly served up plate after plate for the diners who packed the tables. Bottom line: if you're ever in Malahide, try Chez Sara.

After that it was time for me to hop on the DART and make my way home (Cathal had plans for going in to town, but I'd had enough by this stage and needed to get back to check email and do some more organising for the coming holiday. It's going on for 10.00 pm now, and I'm full of the joys of life. A really good day, and a great time with Cathal.

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Almost forgot to mention today's reject. I've heard the old saying about bringing your harp to the party but nobody asking you to play. This guy in Grafton Street hasn't heard about that, apparently. I couldn't believe the fact that he actually brings a piano with him for his busking sessions. Full marks for initiative, I reckon.