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A day when shorts were worn

Walkers basking in the sun on the pier in Dun Laoghaire

comfortably!

A day when t-shirts were paraded.
Without pain!

A day when the GoosePimpleOMeter* recorded no positive hits on the pier! (Except perhaps for the Italian guy and the three Spanish girls who briefly unzipped their North Pole anoraks to reach for their wallet – but it doesn’t count).

A day when the thermometer hit a dizzying 23 degrees (Celsius!)
In the shade!!! (Met Eireann usually go by the temperature in the sunlight, under a looking glass, to con us into thinking that we live in a country with a near-Mediterranean climate, and no windchill)

Somehow I doubt that it will be enough to convince Mrs Raheny to pack away the winter duvet.

It’s going to be a sweat-fest for me tonight.

And it won’t be from the passion…

* patent pending

Record temperatures in Dun Laoghaire today

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Divine apparition in Glasthule

Divine apparition in Glasthule

And there was light.
Or rather lights. Two of them.

What one can find in Buckley’s on auction day is nothing short of miraculous.

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Let there be light

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motivational message

I believe that the temperature of the water in Dublin bay is currently* unsafe for human immersion.

And I achieved another day without immersion in the arctic water of Dublin bay.

Result!

* as well as 99.8% of the time

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Believe and achieve

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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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Dun Laoghaire sea front

Dun Laoghaire train station basking in the sun

Ice-cream-licking BMW driver

Sun worshipper in Dun Laoghaire, Co. Dublin

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Sunny in Dun Laoghaire, I know, it’s weird, isn’t it?

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cherry blossoms dun laoghaire
And surprisingly enough, the petals, still they staid.
For several days, would you believe. And the little green near us looked like it had received a liberal dusting of pink Parmesan cheese.
And unfortunately it meant that for three nights in a row we were right beneath the flight path of the sun seekers coming back from Tenerife at 1.20 am (talk about a shock to the system, coming out of DUB terminal 1 at 2 am in your shorts and flip-flops and sniffing the cold drizzle while wondering how much of a mouthy fascist the taxi driver is going to be…)

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Stay still for a second, petal

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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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Newgrange

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