My Good Self was getting into the swing of this self isolation gig.

The fact that my standard day for many years now has been one of 99.9% self isolation is neither here nor there.

I was still playing my part.

Doing my bit for the country.

Clearly I am a man very much ahead of my time.

It was St. Patrick’s Day, our national day.

My Good Self is not a huge fan of Paddy’s Day.

Around the area where I live the atmosphere on the streets tends to deteriorate the more alcohol that is consumed over the course of the day by people who are often of quite a young age.

Although I have been known to allow the very occasional drop of alcohol pass my lips over the years, I am not a fan of excessive consumption (that time in the French Alps with the Judas beer was a complete and utter one off. It was.).

Be all that as it may, I was feeling the need for some fresh air on Tuesday morning.

And so it came to pass that My Good Self bravely decided to break out of My Official Residence and duly sauntered down to Abbey Street with a view to hopping onto the 130 bus to Alfie Byrne Road.

Clontarf was calling.

Only the 130 was not due for a good 15 minutes on account of the revised St. Patrick’s Day schedule.

In a moment of dazzling ingenuity My Good Self hit on a brilliant Plan B.

Carry on walking another 15 metres and grab the number 31 to Howth Road.

What a quick thinking, red wine drinking, classical guitarist I am.

It was a mild and calm morning as I set off on my stroll by the sea.

I was not alone. It seemed the coastal path had swopped places with O’Connell Street for the day.

Sign of the times.

Nick Drake kicked off proceedings on Spotify and he kept me company up to the wooden bridge. Carole King, Richard Hawley and the podcast ‘Don’t tell me the score’ took me up to Sutton Cross, as the wind picked up.

Happily the Marine Hotel was open for business. Tea and the ham salad sandwich on brown bread was most appetising.

And, lo and behold, what emerged only that it was possible to get a pint of the black stuff served to my table.

A highly unexpected bonus in these turbulent times.

An opportunity too good to pass up.

Clearly the Marine Hotel was the place to be.

At least for the day that was in it.