Royal Marine Hotel, Dun Laoghaire

I decided that I’d up my game a bit this year and surprise Mrs mememe2u for her birthday.
Don’t get me wrong, she is still thrilled with the wet suit that I got her last year, but I thought that I’d get something a bit more exotic.
I booked a holiday.
I also know how worried she gets when we are far from the kids. So I booked a holiday in… Dun Laoghaire.
In the grand old Royal Marine Hotel.

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And we had a fine big meal in town in Le Bon Crubeen (I had to tell Mrs mememe2u what the Irish word crubeen stands for…) Great food, great service, great atmosphere.

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Then we got a Dart back into Dun Laoghaire (I splashed out on 1st class tickets), and our grand big room in the Royal Marine was waiting for us. With a view. The grand big room. On the library! My favourite library in the world. With Dublin Bay right behind. All hunky dory.

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And we never even switched the telly on. Oh no. It was a weekend away (2.3 miles away from home) with no connectivity whatsoever.
Ok, there was a bit of connectivity… I brought my favourite gadget of the moment: my Onkyo bluetooth sound bar. Coupled with Spotify, it is the equivalent of bringing your whole CD collection with you for that romantic weekend away (all 2.3 miles of it). It would have been a little bit heavy to carry all my Frank Zappa collection, and Magma (Mekanïk Destruktïẁ Kommandöh), and Motorhead (Rock ‘n’ Roll), and Richard Gotain (le Youki), and Body Count (Talk Shit, Get Shot) and the Ramones anthology. Isn’t technology fantastic?

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I then had a great night sleep.  And I think Mrs mememe2u too. In a giant bed. I was able to sleep in my favourite position (the starfish) without disturbing Mrs mememe2u.

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After the full Irish (breakfast), there was a lovely swim in the pool (18 m, just big enough to show off, not big enough to puke my full Irish), and a funny old sweating session in the sauna, trying to talk Mrs mememe2u out of her panic attack (“no Chica, doors that close with a magnet cannot get jammed and we will not die from heat and dehydration”)

And then it was time to head back home, and cook the Sunday roast as a thank you to Pepe and his sterling babysitting services. In the sunshine! A fine, sunny, warm day it was.

And then I went off to vote for the one I don’t like to stop the one I loathe.
For the second time in 14 days.

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art, dublin, dun laoghaire, homemade festival in one's back garden, ireland, photography, tourism, travel

Weekend away (2.3 miles away, to be precise)

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Newgrange

What a place.

I can’t believe that after 24 years in Ireland, I only got to see Newgrange today.

I wasn’t expecting to feel so emotional when entering the chamber. No matter how touristy it is, or the fact that you are herded in for your 12 minutes with 20 other visitors, it just hit me as I felt the stones of the narrow passageway.

5,000 years ago.

Jayzus. (He didn’t even exist!)

How primitive we are. How ill-equipped to leave a trace. How devoid of any sense of legacy.

At a time when life expectancy was barely beyond the age of 30, when the wheel didn’t exist, when wifi even didn’t exist (!!!), people had a much more tangible grasp of the future than we have.

Today I felt disgusted to the core with an age when fugacious excrement like he-who-shall-not-be-named gets elected into a position of extreme power, with a personal grasp of consequences and legacy that does not seem to go beyond the next tweet.

What do we ever do today for four generations down the line?

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art, dublin, homemade festival in one's back garden, ireland, Jehovah prosecutors, life lesson, photography, tourism, travel

Newgrange

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exposed breasts

St Patrick’s day on the deserted beach this morning with the boys. Which was nice.

I was reflecting no longer than a few days ago that there is a dearth of graffiti extolling the virtues of breast feeding.
It looks like I am not the only citizen in favour of promoting the practice.

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art, dublin, homemade festival in one's back garden, ireland, life lesson, monochrome, parenting, photography, tourism, travel

Politically correct graffiti

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Did shag all. Which was brilliant.
Slept loads. Which is exactly what the doctor ordered.

A most beautiful non-day.

art, close-up of my juicy plums, dejection, dublin, Extraction of EUR60 from my wallet, homemade festival in one's back garden, ireland, monochrome, photography, relativity, this is a swear-free zone, for fuck sake

A minimal sort of day

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a splash of colour... quite literally, art, dublin, dun laoghaire, essential parenting implements, homemade festival in one's back garden, ireland, killer granny armed with a mini, messing, parenting, photography

Zesty

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I sometimes wonder how long it would take for the vegetation to take over Dun Laoghaire.

Mind you, I’d rather not see this scenario in my lifetime.

We do however already have a couple of howling monkeys. They can produce some rather unnerving sounds after sniffing a few canisters of Zippo Premium Butane Fuel

a splash of colour... quite literally, art, dublin, dun laoghaire, homemade festival in one's back garden, hysterically happy, ireland, nana is packing, photography, street photography

Never far from the jungle…

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Forests are so last year.

Industrial estates are where the action takes place, for those explosions of autumnal colours.

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a splash of colour... quite literally, art, dublin, homemade festival in one's back garden, ireland, photography, tourism, travel

Sandyford autumn walk

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