Dublin

So this is my first post in a while. I think there must be something wrong with my diet as my appetite for blogging and even writing emails seems to be waning. I suspect it's all the pesto I've been eating. Pesto with pasta and canned tuna is my standard quick meal these days. It's bad on two fronts: (1) apparently people have been known to overdose on pesto and die (apprently pine nuts are toxic when taken in massive quantities). Urban myth? Possibly; and (2) basil and tuna are generally considered (at least by the respondents to a casual survey I took this afternoon) a vile taste combination. I must have seriously damaged taste buds, because I don't mind it myself.

Anyway, I took a break from the pesto this weekend while I was visiting my friends Bec and Frank in Dublin. Frank is a master chef and put together a magnificent slow-roasted lamb dinner for us on Saturday and I am still dreaming about it some 3 days later. Let's linger on the subject of lamb for a minute. Three weeks ago, I ate a sublime roast at my mate Nick's place. A couple of weeks later I made my own first ever lamb roast (a Jamie Oliver inspired, Italian-influenced number, which has anchovies as it's killer secret ingredient). And now Frank comes along with his own interpretation of the theme. I wonder who will make roast lamb for me this weekend ... any takers?

Back to Dublin. It's a great town and I managed to see a fair bit of it thanks to my two dedicated and charming hosts. From the historic (Kilmainham jail) to the cultured (literary pub crawl) to the tacky (Bono's house), we had it all covered. For those who haven't been before, Dublin is a nice town. It's got some nice buildings - Trinity College is beautiful. It's got it's own instantly recognisable land mark - the millenium spire - in Frank's words "epic", in my words "plain". And it's got a decent night life - think Irish pubs, Guiness and Irish whiskey. But the highlight for me was spending a weekend surrounded by a nation of people who love to talk but manage to do so in such a way that the rest of the world can't understand a bloody word of what they're saying. I had thought that the Welsh spoke the most impenetrable English in the world, but I now think they have strong rivals in the shape of the Irish. If you're thinking about going, I recommend bringing a pad and pen and asking people to write things down for you - it's so much quicker that way.

On a final note, I took my beautiful new camera to Dublin with me but only managed to take one picture - a half-hearted snap of the city centre taken just before I hopped on the bus back to the airport. I used to love taking photos but I seem to have lost the passion for it. Taking photos just seems like so much trouble these days. Which is strange, because pushing a button is hardly difficult. Maybe it's something to do with my diet ...