The seafront of Clontarf was calling.

My Good Self did the needful.

It had been one of those early kick off mornings.

The standard rituals were duly observed and come 10 bells I was on my way.

First stop was My Local Michelin Star Cafe for a most tasty eggs benedict and americano.

A check In on the chess situation revealed an upturn in fortunes in my joust with the King of Headfort.

It would appear that Sunday’s chilli con carne played a crucial role in this happy turn of events.

Soon it was off to Abbey Street for the 130 bus to Alfie Byrne Road.

The sun was doing its very best to break through the thin cloud, the wind was howling and the white horses were doing their thing out on the sea as I began my little wander. along the coast.

Time then to be out with the headphones and on with the Spotify.

Joni Mitchell was first up and she happily kept me company up to St. Anne’s Park. Gregory Porter, Sarah McLachlan and Richard Hawley took me nicely up to Sutton Cross.

And lo and behold, what did I happen upon at Sutton Cross only the Marine Hotel.

And they were selling the black stuff.

What a pleasant little solar system it is.

I promptly propped myself up at the bar and duly made the acquaintance of The Hearing Aid Dude.

He’s a sound lad.

A couple of hours later and My Good Self happily stumbled onto the number 31 bus which took me back to The Ranch.

Life was good.