Yesterday we went up to the Dublin mountains for a walk amid howls of dismay from the boys. They always object vociferously but they always seem to enjoy it when they get there. It was very windy at the top.
But sunny:
If a bit boggy:
We ran into one of the boys’ classmates who was out walking with his parents and brothers. The boys were all rather muted. “Was it strange to meet Eoghan here?” I asked. “Yes,” said Michael and he didn’t shout and say rude poems like he does in school.”
We went to Johnny Fox’s for lunch, possibly the most touristy place in Ireland outside Killarney. The walls are bedecked with photos of bemused visiting dignitaries as the protocol division of the Department of Foreign Affairs has clearly decided that no head of state can visit Ireland without taking in a trip to Johnny Fox’s. There were, however, two notable exceptions: there was no Barack Obama (although there was a picture of the owner’s niece having a pint with him in some other public house) and no Queen Elizabeth. On the plus side the Queen’s private secretary had written a letter saying how much she regretted not being able to take part in a “hooley night” in Johnny Fox’s. Quite.
