Friday, June 24, 2005
We were back in our old stomping ground the other night. Mount Browne, James’s Street, Thomas Street. Lots of changes. Lots of new apartments. Lots of ethnic shops catering for the multinational population which inhabits the area now. Many languages and ten thousand tastes.
Some things though remain eternal. Frawleys is still there and by all accounts doing a roaring trade.
Then it happened, and when it did we were stopped in out tracks. Unmistakeable. There it was, hanging in the air. The unmissable fragrance of Guinness’ brewery wafting its way through the city. Ah it’s nice to see (and smell) that however much progress spreads her mantel over the capital some things will never ever change.
Some things though remain eternal. Frawleys is still there and by all accounts doing a roaring trade.
Then it happened, and when it did we were stopped in out tracks. Unmistakeable. There it was, hanging in the air. The unmissable fragrance of Guinness’ brewery wafting its way through the city. Ah it’s nice to see (and smell) that however much progress spreads her mantel over the capital some things will never ever change.
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