Well what can say, so long without any ramblings, but I have been ill you know. Flu! Not just man flue but the real thing, three days in bed another week recovering and then what happens, we go to Dublin with Richard and Maureen.


But to begin at the beginning. It’s Thursday and I am just beginning to recover and feel a little better, Christine who has also been ill with the same problem is two or three days ahead of me in the recovery period. So we make the decision, yes we can make the Dublin trip. So on Friday we start off by travelling down to Richard’s.


I have already arranged for us to pop into Derek’s near Melton Mowbray for a coffee and a shared scone on our way past. That’s the Derek who is solely responsible for me dislocating my elbow and not being able to eat sandwiches and sausage rolls in the middle lane of the M1 for about six weeks which resulted in me being late for every appointment. But it’s always good to catch up with good friends so we arrive ready for our scone.


We have a look round his new ‘small’ extension, Lord of the Manor is a phrase that comes to mind here and then we wander into the dinning room for our scone. With a flourish Derek removes a cloth from the table and what have we got? Only pork pie, flans, sausage rolls, ham sandwiches and pickled onions. That’s Melton Mowbray pork pie may I say. It’s good to know that some people never forget what I’m like. I eat very heartily. Some time later than we expected we are on our way to Richard’s, Christine having eaten sensible and me feeling very stuffed. How can you stop eating while there is still some pork pie and sausage roll left on the table. Thanks for that Derek It was great to catch up.


So it’s on to Richard’s and an evening meal prepared by Maureen. Fortunately a very delicious pasta and salad with a couple of bottles of wine is not too heavy which leaves room for a few pints down the pub a bit later. Saturday morning and our break is about to begin, bacon sandwiches for breakfast, no wall paper paste at Richard’s followed by lunch and then off to the airport. We arrive at our hotel somewhere about 5.00pm and I arrange to see Richard in the bar in ten minutes but knowing what he’s like I am down in five minutes intending to get a jump on him only to find him sitting at the bar halfway down his first Guinness wondering what was taking me so long. Things never change. I am only surprised that he hasn’t managed to fit in a visit to the gym or a quick swim yet. Not to mention the sauna or steam room.


A few Guinness later we call it a night, Sunday is spent round Dublin and the night finds us in O'Donoghue's bar with everyone else in Dublin. Some good Irish music along with a few more Guinness finishes off the day. Monday is St Patrick’s day and I think it’s fair to say that Dublin is full, we watch the parade, go to a ceilidh concert and drink more Guinness. Sometime later that evening Richard and I slip out of the hotel for a quick Guinness at the bar next door but somehow manage to finish up in Temple Bar and then back to O'Donoghue's for more Irish music, more Guinness and perhaps a kerbab on the way home in the early hours.


On Tuesday I just happen to mention to Christine that maybe I am not feeling at my best, I have been ill you remember. Well looking for sympathy there did not go down very well. Phrases like “What do expect being out to the early hours at your age?” and “You didn’t even have a coat on, do you think you are still a teenager?” followed by “I suppose you had too many of the Guinness again”. We are in Dublin of course we had too many of the Guinness, it’s why we’re here.


Christine then finishes off with “You were only just getting better, now you have put yourself back two weeks”. Now how she has suddenly become qualified to say how far my state of health has deteriorated I don’t know. I didn’t even know she was taking any doctors qualifications although I do remember she did a First Aid course at her last job but I thought that was just an excuse to get out of the office.


Tuesday is spent shopping, Christine likes Grafton Street and oh yes, nearly forgot, we just happen to fit in a visit to Jameson’s whiskey distillery and have a few samples. The only down side of the whiskey trip is that Christine drinks all her samples and has now developed a taste for a drop of the ‘hard stuff’. I hope this doesn’t mean that I will be expected to take my turn at driving home after nights out. It was quite convenient her just having the one glass of wine.


Wednesday we fly home and Thursday I am back in bed, only this time I am getting no sympathy at all. I need a Lemsip, I get it myself. I need some throat sweets, I get them myself. I keep reminding everyone that I am ill.


My head aches, I can’t stop coughing and I am laid in bed wondering why we brought back a Bodhrn, that’s an Irish drum to the uninformed for Joe or a Penny Whistle for Amber on which she can now play the first six notes of The Irish Rover and has been doing for the past three hours


Somebody must have some sympathy. It was, of course a very enjoyable trip for us both and as usual great to catch up with Richard and Maureen again. Looking forward to the next one.