Where did all the crowds go?

It was strange not to be heading out the door at 12.30 to go to the weekly music session, but at least it meant I was free to go over to Carl's place earlier than I'd normally be able to do. He's on family duty tomorrow into Tuesday, escorting his young nephew back to Paris, and he was keen to get something to keep the lad amused on the flight. So we (unsuccessfully) leafed through the Argus catalogue and then went to Dún Laoghaire shopping centre to try for something in the toy shop and arts shop there. It took a while, but Carl finally got a couple of things he was happy with. It isn't going to be easy to keep a 7-year-old occupied and amused on a two-hour flight, especially when he speaks his very own brand of Franglais.

We'd arranged with our Bray friends to meet them there for a bite to eat and a bit of an atmosphere soak-up at the Bray Summerfest. It was all surprisingly quiet, and certainly a far cry from the manic hustle and bustle we were expecting. Maybe it was less than ideal weather which discouraged people, but it was certainly a lot quieter than we understood it to have been in previous years. We had a terrific night, though.

We met at the Martello on the sea front and had some really good food there. The main performance stage was just across the road, so we didn't have to move an inch to be entertained by the excellent Bray Gospel Choir. That was no sooner over than a pair arrived in the Martello forecourt, totally unannounced. They treated us to a hilarious half hour or so of clowning, all of which involved interaction with the audience (including Dublin Shooter himself!).

From there we made our way to the Harbour Bar, which none of us had been to for quite a while. I remember the place with great fondness from the dim and distant past, and I'd mentioned on the DART as we came into Bray past the place that I'd like to go back there some time. We made our way along the seafront, past the fairground attractions, looking on at the mad people who strapped themselves into the bungey-jump thingamajig, past a more sedate attraction which offered fun for all ages, the Twister, and the big(ish) Jubilee Wheel.

The Harbour Bar turned out to be a smashing place to be in, full of quirky décor and palpable old-fashioned atmosphere. We arrived as a group were setting up and doing an extended sound check, so we decided to hang on to see what they were like. We were a bit confused, not sure if they were the 'Love Cats' which were advertised on posters scattered around in strategic positions (what we'd heard during the sound check didn't gel with the description on the posters, which suggested a touch of raunchiness). 9.30 was the advertised starting time, but that means little or nothing in Ireland, so it was after 10.00 by the time the show began. It did indeed turn out to be The Love Cats, as advertised, and it was just a bit raunchy. We had to leave before the show finished so that Carl and I could catch the last DART. We were a bit confused at Bray station, thinking that perhaps we'd been sent back in time, if only be a few months. It was raining when we left the Harbour Bar, but had thankfully stopped by the time we reached our stop.

A really good night, hugely enjoyable. Thanks Dave. Thanks Alan.