Foxy

Material was due today from the client for the notorious quarterly magazine (I'd out them on notice about my trip to Lisbon, and asked them to bring things forward by a week so I could finish the work before I go away). But nothing arrived. I really don't want a mad, mad rush and more round-the-clock work, so I feel a firm phone call coming on Monday, and a bit of wrist rapping.

As it became increasingly obvious that I'd get no work done today, I sorted myself out and went in to town. Traffic was very, very light at first (that's how it's been since Christmas no matter what time of day it is), and I was musing about the effects of the financial downturn as I sailed along as far as Fairview. That's when everything ground to a sudden halt. Progress from then on was at a snail's pace, so what was originally intended to be a leisurely bit of shopping turned out to be a bit of a mad rush before Carl was due in town. I'd managed to grab this quick blip somewhere on Dawson Street, and we grabbed a quick (ridiculously expensive) drink in the Davenport hotel before making our way over to Locks Restaurant for a 'pre-theatre' meal (their idea of an early bird: I don't know why they decided on the pre-theatre bit, since nobody in their right mind would eat beside the canal at Portobello before going to any theatre I know of in Dublin).

It really is a nice location, the place is attractive inside (especially when you're shown to a table upstairs as we were). The meal was pleasant and enjoyable, service was friendly and efficient, the whole experience was fine ... but we couldn't help feeling that there was a general 'nothing special' feel about the whole thing. I had soup, seabream and apple strudel; Carl had spiced chickpea, beef and onion pie and sherry trifle. Of these, my soup was the star of the show. Coffee was good. We'd been told that we could have the table until 9.00. Unlike some other places, there was no mention of this as we were finishing our meal and the clock advanced towards 9.15, and we certainly felt no pressure to wind things up and leave. All in all: good, but not great. We wouldn't rush back, but we'd be happy to recommend it.

A cocktail in the Hilton afterwards, meeting our Grand-Prix-lunch pal for drinks and chat in the Merrion Inn, another in his place, and then on to Carl's Kino to put the new blu-ray player through tis paces with a showing of A Few Good Men brought things to an end.