Guitar practice was done and dusted, time for a wee stroll.
And so it was off down to Abbey Street for the old reliable 130 bus to the Clontarf seafront.
Alighting at the wooden bridge of Dollymount, it was out with the headlphones and on with the walking, direction Sutton.
First up on the sounds was an old edition of the BBC World Service programme ‘Outlook’, featuring an interview with Hana Ali, daughter of Muhammad.
Next up was another listen to the writer Ryan Holiday talk about stoicism on the podcast ‘Don’t tell me the score’.
As the chat with Ryan was drawing to a close, I had by that stage hung a sharp right at Sutton Cross and was wandering along Carrickbrack Road in the direction of Howth Summit, Deer Park golf course on the left, St. Fintan’s cemetery on the right.
A little while later my destination was before me.
The Summit Inn.
Last time up this way was a day out with My Clarinet and Harmonica Mate (MCAHM) along with The Italian Stallion.
MCAHM is no longer with us and I haven’t heard from The Stallion in quite a while.
Funny how things change.
Sometimes not so funny.
The Summit Inn is a place of memory. In times gone by, The Berkeley Court Dude used to bring The Belgian Boy, The Dunboyne Dynamo and My Good Self here.
Yesterday afternoon a most pleasing sirloin steak with chips, fried onions, mushrooms and pepper sauce was happily gobbled up and washed down by two pints of a brew that was new to me.
It’s tough going, I’m battling away as best I can.
In no time at all I was on the number 31 bus back into town.
It had been a lovely outing.