Browsing articles tagged with "Pieminister Archives - I Love Saturday"
Dec 5, 2013

Merry Dublin! Twelve Shops of Christmas

Dublin city centre is looking really smart right now. Twinkling lights, winding lane ways and lots of lovely shops. Forget suburban Yummy Drummie malls and get where the action’s at. And you can have a pint after a hard days shopping! Town is back with a bang this Christmas. Dublin has reinvented itself as a cool city, following some lean years, and paved the way for a fresh mix of creative retailers and arty shops.

Okay, first thing for out of towners – keep off Grafton Street and Henry Street. The really interesting shops are behind the scenes. Dublin’s Creative Quarter is a buzzing hive between Wicklow, Georges and South William Streets. Lots to do and see here! From so hip it hurts to vintage gems and artisan foods to quirky boutiques, this jam packed area keeps on giving. Other side of the Liffey, Moore and Capel Streets are festive hotspots.

It’s tradition chez moi to do a family shopping day every Christmas. We meet at midday, fuel up on coffee and cake, mill about town picking out our pressies and finish with pub grub and some well earned pints. We get to soak in the Christmas vibes and ensure that nobody receives rubbish gifts. Winner! Dad likes books, the Bruv likes music and Mother loves hand crafts. Here’s where we’ll be heading…

1.) Makers & Brothers & Others. When I first chanced upon this new shop on Dame Lane, I was intrigued. There was cakes in the window, what can I say… I wanted to know what was inside. This smart lifestyle pop-up is the work of the Jonathan and Mark Legge, the crafty siblings behind Makers & Brothers. They’ve collaborated with a hip set of Irish designers to bring us some pretty cool stuff.

Cakes are from The Wild Flower Bakery and look almost too good to eat. Billed as a tiny seasonal department store, Makers & Brothers & Others is a joy to explore. The antidote to commercial Christmas. I liked twisty wooden stools from James Carroll, tableware from Jerpoint Irish Glass and a fun knitted fox from Claire-Anne O’Brien. Go here for housey things and kiddie gifts. And a cup of tea.

2.) Clerys. It’s back! After a devastating flood this summer, Dublin’s fave department store was closed for a five month refurbishment. Although Clerys has been a much loved haunt of mine, it was seriously in need of a facelift. And here it is, all shiny and bouncy, but retaining it’s old skool charm. Perfect. I was afraid I wouldn’t recognise it, but fear not – it’s Clerys, only better. The shop floor is bright and uncluttered with original features polished. And, well, modrin. Christmas under one brand new roof.

Chic newbies include – Moda in Pelle, True Decadence and Apanage. Gone are the granny wedding hats and in are quality handbags, scarves and shoes you really want in your wardrobe. Clerys offers substance and style. Send Himself to Carphone Warehouse, new on the ground floor, while you browse Benetton, Mexx and Mango. Meet Mother at The Tea Rooms and bring the kids to Santa’s Joy Factory.

3.) Powerscourt Townhouse Centre. I do love this place. It’s like a calm oasis in, y’know, the sprawling metropolis that is Dublin… Powerscourt is the ideal Christmas venue with plenty of artisan shops, galleries and cafes. First up, party outfits. Go vintage at The Loft Market and Irish at Marion Cuddy, both regular spots for yours truly. Up the glamour stakes at Covet, Design Centre and Dawn Fitzgerald. Genius for cool casuals.

Gift-wise, Powerscourt Townhouse Centre caters well for the hard-to-buy-for crowd. For something unique head to Article, an eclectic collection of funky objets and house wares. Bow for pretty little things. A Rubenesque and The Garden for decorations and flowers. Try the Bonsai Shop for an alternative Crimbo tree. Kennedy and McSharry for a tweed flat cap. The Bloke loves his! Rosemantic fellas who are thinking of popping the ultimate Christmas surprise… The best antique jewellery in Dublin. She’ll love it. And you!

4.) Ferocious Mingle Marcade. Believe it or not you can buy your Crimbo pressies second hand. Simply vintage, Darling! With so much post-recessionary re-purposing going on these days, markets are super spots to pick up something a bit different. The Marcade has moved from it’s old location to a bohemian den on Camden Street. I used to live in this part of town and am so excited by how lively it’s become. Wind your way up from the city with leisure.

Shopping, entertainment and food. What more do you want? These guys know how to throw a party too! Open every Thursday to Sunday, join in the fun with stalls selling everything from antique clocks and mirrors and grunge princess fashions to pre-loved books and handmade soaps. Relax after a hard days shopping at Dublin’s tiniest cinema and munch on home baked goodies from Oscar Verne’s Coffee Bar.

5.) Cocoa Atelier. Christmas is the one time of the year that you’re allowed to stuff your chops and get away with it. But I call quality over quantity. Instead of reaching into a tin of Roses, I’ll be savouring artisan chocolates from Cocoa Atelier. This is my (the Bloke’s) go-to place for sweet treats. Cocoa Atelier was born when French chef, Marc Amand, spotted a gap in the market for gourmet chocs in Ireland. Good work!

The shop, on Drury Street, is like stepping through a portal to Paris. Chic black and white detail show the exquisite chocolates off to their best, but it’s the taste that counts. There’s a range of flavours to choose from, including – salted caramel, ginger, lime, mango, chestnut honey and Earl Grey – as well as myriad bars and luxe foodie gifts. The chocolate Christmas baubles are too cute! Buy colourful macaroons and delicate eclairs for your Christmas table. And hot chocolate for now!

6.) Georges Street Arcade. I’ve been shopping here since my teenage days, when I was first allowed into town all by myself. Me & my best mate used to browse records and smoke ciggies. Good times! So the Arcade has a special place in my heart. The shops have changed over the years, new ones popping up all the time. But some things remain the same, like Simon’s Place, the cosy cafe that keeps me and the Bloke so well fed.

Housed in a Victorian redbrick market, Georges Street Arcade offers a quirky collection of shops. Pick up retro vinyl at Spindizzy Records (Himself is a regular), silver and stones at New Moon Jewellery and stocking fillers at Bombay Banshee. Make like Uncle Gaybo and hit Beaux Bows for your geansai Nollaig. Or try sheepskin in The Gift of Warmth to keep the chill out. And a Pieminister with mushy peas & mash!

7.) Siopaella. Can’t afford Brown Thomas? Then get down to Temple Bar. They say you can’t put a price on love, but at Siopaella you’ll find great deals on Chanel, Louis Vuitton and Marc Jacobs. And just about every designer you can think of. Items are selected by owner, Ella, who picks the cream of pre-loved, worn once and labels on fashion. She’ll even style you a fabulous party outfit.

The great thing about Siopaella is you’ll find something that nobody else has. With two stores, one on Crow Street the other on Temple Lane, offering high street to high end there’s plenty to suit your budget. I’ve scored a Rachel Mackey cashmere cardi, silk Custo dress and a Chesneau handbag among many bargains. Watch out for box fresh Louboutins. Siopaella’s menswear is the best pre-loved in town. Mother loves their vintage jewellery.

8.) Project 51. Tucked away on Dublin’s premier hipster strip, South William Street, this Irish design collective has it’s finger on the pulse. Project 51 is a creative hub and retail space. Hannah Flew runs things front of house, where there’s a great selection of gifts and home grown wedding items. I love Anita Conway handmade lace garters, intricate Grace O’Reilly Jewellery and stunning Kate Betts Hats.

Finding surprises is one thing I really enjoy when shopping, and out the back of Project 51 is a fun place to nose around. Funky neon clubwear brought me back to 90s London where I spent my college days wandering around Camden Market. Only for the young and daring! Meanwhile, there’s plenty in for Christmas. Nik’s Tea gift sets, Gillian Field illustrated mugs and Airmid Natural handmade soaps.

9.) Chapters. Here’s a place me and the Bloke could spend hours happily ignoring each other, lost in row after row of books. Chapters is spread out over two gigantic floors, new books on the ground floor and second hand upstairs. Stocking the whole gamut of readables from fiction and biography to reference and educational. There’s more art, photography, fashion and cookery books than you can shake a stick at. Chapters is also a great source for Irish books and lesser known titles.

It’s not just books here. Chapters does a great range of stationery too, including cards, notebooks and diaries. Brilliant stocking fillers. I went in to get a book for the Bruv’s birthday and these guys ordered it specially, with only one day delivery. The service is top notch. Upstairs is the place for random finds – the best way to buy books! Swing by Moore Street afterwards for fresh fruit and Paris Bakery for cakes.

10.) Cows Lane Designer Studio. Mother and me love this place. At the cool end of Temple Bar, Cow Lane Designer Studio showcases the best of Irish design and crafts. We’re big fans of Deirdre Griffin glass fusion jewellery. Her rings and earrings are simple yet striking. Manned by the designers themselves you can chat about creative techniques or commission a special piece in person. The atmosphere here is open and friendly.

A nice present-to-self (g’wan. I won’t tell anyone) would be a hat from Shevlin Millinery. John Shevlin’s head wear is beautifully made and well established in the Irish fashion world. Wear it on Christmas Day! Choose unique gifts from handmade Brookwood Pottery, fresh on the shelves, Bouji Organic candles and the softest scarves from Daiva’s Textiles. Cows Lane Designer Studio is also home to great prints and artwork. Come here for house inspiration.

11.) Fallon & Byrne. A top spot for posh foodie gifts, this place stocks a mouthwatering array of Christmas treats. Their fabulous hampers include a hand picked selection of the best artisan produce. Try the Gourmet Irish, which includes – Cashel Blue cheese, Pandora Bell nougat, Ummera Organic Irish smoked salmon, Mella’s butter fudge and Fallon & Byrne’s famous house granola. The food of life!

The Food Hall provides all you need for a tasty Christmas dinner table. Organic fruit and veg, fresh meat and fish, charcuterie and antipasti. There’s also amazing choice when it comes to the high end pantry – Italian extra virgin olive oils, French mustards and teas from around the world. The wine shop is well worth a visit too. Grab a seat by the front window and people watch Wicklow Street with delectable cakes and Dublin’s best latte. Yes Sir!

12.) Avoca. I’ve always loved Avoca, just for the pure chance to channel one’s fantasy lifestyle through their dotty displays and dreamy scenarios. I often picture myself wrapped up in a lambswool blanket, taking Ceylon and scones by a blazing fireside. Bliss. My most recent purchase was, in fact, one of their mill woven blankets as a wedding gift for friends. There’s a rainbow of jewel colours to pick from.

Appealing to the girl in me, Avoca does everything pretty. Kitsch even. Patterned plates, quirky teapots, ceramic door knobs, glass jewellery and cutesy hats. Clothes are whimsical yet totally wearable. The kids section is great fun with adorable wooly jumpers, Jellycat teddies and a sugar rush sweetie hamper. For the chef in your life, head for the kitchen gear, delicatessen and super yummy cookbooks.

So now you know where to go! I’ve gotta say, Dublin has become a real arty little city over the last few years, now that we’re out of the Tiger’s claw. I love nothing more than mooching around town – the Creative Quarter, Temple Bar, Capel Street – and chancing upon new shops and cafes. Do check out as many independent stores as you can, they’re so much more exciting and original. Happy shopping!

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Sep 6, 2013

Electric Picnic – It’s Not You, It’s Me…

This day last week I landed in Stradbally, Co. Laois, for the 10th Electric Picnic. Not my 10th. I’ve been to the festival four times. I met the Bloke at his gaff, with Simon’s Place sandwiches in my bag. A quick munch and a cup of tea, and were off down George’s Quay to catch the party bus. I didn’t know it then but this was just the start of my journey. An epic time travelling episode that would change my life.

First stop was the pub. Ramsbottoms, for a lovely pair of Guinness. We sat in the beer garden supping and chatting to locals. Just the ticket to kick start the weekend. Here, we liased with our Man in Japan. The Bloke was DJing in Trenchtown and I was Santa’s little helper, so we got our performer passes (swanky!) and jumped from the frying pan into the fire. Serious mileage ahead for my trusty biker boots.

Trenchtown was already abuzz, the crew having been here all week. We were shacked up in our own mini camp site at the back of the stage. If I never hear reggae again… Me and the Bloke managed to get our house built without committing murder. I told him to piss off. He told me to shut up. Still, nobody was hurt in the making of this tent. We even blew up our blow up mattress by mouth. Go team!

Now, the tent was a joke. A nylon condom. I’d found it in Dad’s garage and assumed to be an old tent from festivals of yore. No. I don’t know who owned it or where it came from but it’s been binned now. Sure, it did the job. We squeezed the mattress inside and mashed our bags into the tiny porch. Rain, rain stay away… And so it was out of the rarefied air (ahem) of Trenchtown and off into the main arena.

Walking from our gaff to the security gates, I noticed that Electric Picnic was far more organised than before. The place was like Fort Knox. But that wasn’t the only thing. The punters. “Oh My God. I’m getting Subway tomorrow!” the kid in front of me announced. “They’ve got Subway?” her orange companion gasped, “Like, that’s what so great about Electric Picnic!” Is it? I had a bad feeling…

I realised pretty quickly that the Electric Picnic of my youth is dead. Where were all the cool people? Surrounded by packs of youngsters in Penneys festival uniform – denim cut offs, pleather jackets and faux flower crowns for girls. Hipster lite tee shirts for guys – I suddenly felt old. I thought these kids were supposed to be in Australia? Folk my age were at home in front of the Late Late, obviously.

Everything felt different. Including me. The delicious excitement that anything could happen was no longer mine. It was theirs. I’m not the girl I used to be. Wearing my furry leopard coat, flowery dress and diamante on my eyes I was dressed like my old self but somehow she seemed irrelevant to Electric Picnic mark ten. All around me was fake tan, black tattooed eyebrows and ropey hair extensions.

I was transported back to my college days by the Wu Tang Clan. Well, they were still the same. So many of them, I’ve never known who is who, but they were brilliant. The crowd were loving it. Probably retro cool, these days! The Casa Bacardi was heaving and we got ourselves a couple of mojitos from the Bloke’s mate, who was behind the bar. Now for some food. There was a dizzying array of nosh.

I went for Bombay potatoes and rice from Indian Food and the Bloke picked up a burrito next door. We had a mill about the place to find our bearings – Body & Soul, Electric Arena, The Cosby Stage, Rankin Wood, Trailer Park. Then we ambled back to Trenchtown. Work for the Bloke and a little rest for me. I watched the fireworks, for the Picnic’s birthday from the tent, which was handy for the Main Stage.

Time for round two, I zipped up my body warmer and pulled my trilby down over my nose. A cup of tea was what I wanted. Hardcore! Just me, I dropped into a white marquee right outside Trenchtown. Paradoxology. What do you know? Tea and biscuits. I got chatting to Scott Evans, the guy who was running this little Christian chill out zone. Such a nice chap. We talked books, creativity and God.

I mosied down to the Salty Dog. The stage was a big wooden ship and housed Saint John The Gambler. I caught this lot at a party last summer, so was delighted to chance upon them. Hugh, a young Cork lad, then chanced upon me. He seemed wide eyed and lost. When Hugh asked if he could come to Fatboy Slim with me, I turned from Cougar to Mother Hen and told him to wait there for his pals.

Have I still got it? Ha! I used to love flirting with boys, but now that I’m a woman… The crowd at Fatboy Slim was pure Oxegen. The last time I saw him probably was at Oxegen. Except this time my mates weren’t here. They were in the ‘burbs nursing babies and mortgages. There was a thirty something exodus going on. I bopped around at the back catching the tail end of his set. Right Here, Right Now.

Drifting into Body & Soul I found the amphitheatre of the B&S Stage lined with chilled out bods. Except for those at the front. RSAG was giving it socks. With the flashing lights and manic drumming it was quite magical. I looked up to the black sky. A shooting star! I’ve never seen one before. The spiritual type in me decided it was Granny saying hello. She always encouraged me to do my own thing.

A bit of dancing in the Zen Garden and it was back to Trenchtown, moving through the hordes. I found the Bloke and his chums. A rich aroma all around spurred me to take my first puff of greenery in years. And that was it. One drag. Put away childish things… I went to bed in my freezing tent, wondering what had changed. Me or Electric Picnic? Had we both grown up overnight… I cuddled into Himself.

We woke to sunshine on Saturday. Hurrah! The portaloo was still fresh-ish, thank God. Baby wipe shower, a dusting of glitter (for me!) and we were off to the Salty Dog for brekkie. A Dubliner cheese toastie for me and a bacon sarnie for Himself. And lashings of tea, natch. Blind Yackety were on the ship. The Bloke went off to play his set in Trenchtown Yard and I hit the Electric Arena for The Raglans.

Then it was a spot of Dancergy with Mr. Motivator. Why not? Turns out Mr. M is actually quite the dude. He’s not all ker-azy neon lycra, but a had some top self love tips for us too. Folk were grinning from ear to ear. And I thought he was just the Timmy Mallett of fitness. Respect. Feeling much better than the day before, I slurped on a Purple Haze smoothie and mooched around “the shops”. Any opportunity…

There was lots of crafty gear on offer, novelty thingies, handmade stuff and cool clothes. I picked up a High School Musical cushion for the Bloke, as he’d been using his coat for comfort. Wandering into the Mindfield, I spotted Roisin Ingle and Pauline McLynn chatting to Amy Huberman outside the Arts Council Literary Stage. What luck! Ingle was about to interview the two authors so I took a pew inside.

Hubes was funny in a sassy way and McLynn was funny in a hilarious way. And they both imparted some very savvy writing tips. A great random find. I was forced to think about my own writing. I’m working on my first novel. My laptop was stolen a couple of weeks ago and I lost a fair bit. But the fire has been under me ever since. Listening to two “real” writers was totally inspirational, I’ve gotta say.

Passing the Main Stage I was just in time for the Duckworth Lewis Method. Neil Hannon and the Pugwash crew in fancy dress. They were leading a merry crowd with feel good cricket tunes. Thomas Walsh was in his element, strumming away in a top hat. It was back to Trenchtown via Body & Soul, where I enjoyed a choir all in black and white polka dots. Children danced and played, it was lovely!

After an interlude, reading Scott Evans’ book “Closer Still” in my tent, I met up with the Bloke’s gang. As a bunch of forty something guys, their tribe was more evident at this year’s Picnic than mine. Along with the college crowd, the families and the hippies, forty something types were out in droves. They joked that security hadn’t bothered fleecing them for cans. But the music was certainly up their street.

With Himself working away, I went with the lads to see Robert Plant presents Sensational Space Shifters on the Main Stage. Wow! The Led Zeppelin front man still has it in spades. That unique brand of sexy… Funny how a 65 year old can channel it, but a field full of young ‘uns have no idea. I’ve never seen so much flesh. Cheeks are the new cleavage, but it’s the rare Irish girl has the legs for hot pants.

I got word from a couple of pals who were at Little Green Cars in the Electric Arena, so I multi-gigged and scooched on over. Midway, I encountered two scantily clad girls who asked me to photograph them on their iPhones. As they posed up a storm, and thanked me in faux American accents I thought of my 22 year old self. Vodka, mini skirts and my whole life ahead of me. That was fifteen years ago.

Little Green Cars were ace. Ones to watch, according to my sources. Peckish, we headed to Saba for bites. My chums scoffed Pad Thai noodles and kindly offered me some of their Yellow Curry potato wedges and a round up of their Picnic must-sees. I’m not much good with modrin bands, having stopped buying records when I left school. My music collection is a Britpop graveyard. Back to Robert Plant…

I hooked up with the Bloke, who was free for now, and we went on the hunt for food. I’ve turned vegetarian, after years of being meat-friendly but mostly veggie. It’s so much easier, now I’m 100%. Yummy scran is part of the Electric Picnic experience, whether you want a burger or a gourmet meal. I filled up on paneer and veg curry from Karuna’s Kitchen while Himself enjoyed Dixieland chicken gumbo.

It was hello, goodbye and he was off to Billy Bragg as I went to Bjork. That’s why I love this man. I can be me and he can be him. That simple. It’s something I came to appreciate even more that weekend. I’ve always feared becoming someone’s “other half”. With the Bloke, I’m still a whole person. Me. But now with another whole person to hang around with. Him. Who’s kind, funny and my best friend.

So, Bjork. Due to ridiculous circumstances I missed her last set a couple of years ago. But Saturday night well and truly made up for my past fail. She was stunning. Backed up by a head banging all woman choir, Bjork took the Main Stage by storm in an electric blue bubble dress and sparking headgear. I remember falling in love with the Icelandic singer as a teenager. It’s okay to be a weirdo!

With a giant tesla coil dropping from above, Bjork was electric with energy as she belted out her brilliant new material. Hers is a very special stage presence and the crowd were spellbound. To say she owned Electric Picnic is an understatement. I was on such a high after her show. I celebrated with a mojito from the Casa Bacardi and nipped into the Electric Arena to catch the last choon from Billy Bragg.

Another artist in fine form, Bragg rallied us at the top of his voice. I admire his passion, as fresh as the day he started. These people really gave me something to think about. About myself. The world around me. I’d been a little bit scared at the start of the Picnic, with all the change in the air. But I felt like I was evolving into somebody I truly want to be. Bigger and better. More mature. And I like it very much.

After all of this heavy musing, I was in need of some light entertainment and I found it in the Trailer Park. A good old fashioned hoe down, courtesy of Prison Love. Fronted by the honey voiced Mark O’Mahony, these guys are nothing but great fun, taking unlikely numbers and putting a bluegrass twist on them. I found the lads here too, what luck. Off to the Rankin Wood tent for Black Rebel Motorcycle Club.

All rocked out, I headed back to Trenchtown for a sup of Heineken backstage. Another cold night in our nylon cell, a few laughs with Himself warmed me up. Ear plugs were an essential piece of kit, with Trenchtown partying ’til the wee hours. My ability to stay up late has dwindled as much as my capacity for drink. Heh heh… But seriously, a hangover in that tent? Would ya stop. I’d rather get up early!

And that I did, on Sunday morning. The portaloo was fairly grim at this stage. I love being a woman, and would hate to be a man. But the one time a willy would come in handy… I did see one girl stop and go as she pleased, and it wasn’t pretty. Breakfast was tea and biscuits at Paradoxology. Scott was doing a service, which was just him sitting on a stool talking about God. This fella is such a good speaker.

The thing about God, is that it’s not very fashionable to like him any more. Most folk my age have ditched religion. Catholicism at least. Buddhism and stuff is socially acceptable. A lot of my friends are atheist, and fair play. Some aren’t believers, but get married in church and have their kids christened anyway. And laugh at me for going to mass. But I don’t care. I’ve questioned my faith, of course.

Is God simply something I grew up with? Maybe. I appreciate science and spirituality. I don’t feel black and white about it. What Scott is saying makes total sense to me, so it felt great to meet someone who gets it. There was angelic hymn singing with acoustic guitar and breaking of bread. Pamela, a beautiful artist I got chatting to, told me all about her time working in India and we exchanged some ideas.

I wasn’t expecting that at Electric Picnic. That’s what’s so great about it. Not Subway! Off I went to Body & Soul, only to bump into some old muckers. They were down for the Sunday, leaving the kids at home. It was nice to see them. Seems like a life time now, but we would have been those 20 something kids back in the day. I remember one wild Summer at Wittness, after I came back from London.

Pizza for Trees provided my lunch from their wood fired oven. Fresh dough, tomato sauce and mozzarella. Delish! Washed down with Wispa hot chocolate. I cashed in my Electric Picnic birthday cake voucher for a giant iced fairy cake, given to me by Rev. Olive Donohoe, the Rector of Stradbally. Next stop was Green Crafts and the Global Green. This was an organic cornucopia of cooking and craft.

More food for thought. Watching people basket weaving, wood carving, sewing and painting I wondered what it would be like to be a total hippy. No mortgage, no car, no boss. Out of the rat race. So many of my generation have been made wage slaves due to the property bubble, career ladder and wedding debt. Not to mention childcare. Some of my friends have chosen to be stay at home mothers.

I’ve chosen none of the above. That doesn’t mean that I don’t feel the pressure. Owning a house and driving a car aren’t things I want in life. Getting married or having kids wasn’t something I thought about much. But I like the idea. I’m open to an alternative lifestyle more than the norm. Or what’s expected. Living in town for the last few years has suited me perfectly, but I see my future near water.

At last, Electric Picnic became the place I wanted it to be. A place to dream and just be. Green Crafts was so close to nature, far away from the commercial aspect. I finally realised why the Picnic needs both. It will never be the boutique affair it once was, but it hasn’t lost it’s ability to inspire. I could feel some of John Reynolds’ original vision in the air on Sunday. I hope it doesn’t go changing too much…

After a trip back to Trenchtown to meet Himself for a cuppa (more mild than wild) I tucked him into the tent for a rest while I went off to Johnny Marr. Now, this I was looking forward to. Marr didn’t disappoint. In fact he blew me away. A full house at the Electric Arena, his infamous jangly guitar washed in gorgeous waves over the audience. And he can sing too. His own material and some Electronica.

And of course, The Smiths. I just closed my eyes and danced. Bigmouth Strikes Again, How Soon Is Now and There Is A Light. Amazing. A time machine back to the bedroom of my youth. Now there’s a girl I once was. It was such an emotional moment. I smiled through tears. Although I wished the Bloke could have experienced Marr too, I embraced the music as mine. And I let go of my past in that tent.

Dazed, delighted, I went out into the sunshine. There was the Bloke and his posse. Eels at the Main Stage was next on the agenda. A load of geezers with beards in tracksuits. There was something novelty about Eels that I didn’t get. I mean I got it. But I didn’t like it. So I went off and got Pieminister for Sunday dinner. Heidi pie (goat’s cheese, sweet potato and spinach) with peas, mash and gravy.

David Byrne & St Vincent in the Electric Arena was a spectacle with all of the players lined up marching band style. Excellent stuff. Me and the Bloke slipped into Body & Soul for some chai and a wander about. We just sat and soaked up the atmosphere, happy together. Off he went back to Trenchtown, while I made my way to Mindfield to see what I could see. Crow Black Chicken rocking The Word.

A little munchy I was won over by the smell from Kinara Kitchen, doing Pakistani street food. Fresh naan bread and mango lassi did the trick. I chomped while watching the Arctic Monkeys. Now there’s a band I know nothing about. The turn out was massive and I was really impressed by them. Front man, Alex Turner, was on top of his game. I only know their songs from the radio, I must confess…

Back in Trenchtown, I was ready to party. By that I mean I had a nip of gin and juice from my hip flask, while chatting to the Bloke and various band heads backstage. I’ll start rebelling against myself if I’m not careful. Wasn’t too bad a night in the tent in the end. Living on one of the busiest roads in Dublin city centre, meant all night reggae was a cinch to sleep through. We slept late on Monday morning.

The portaloo was a disgrace. All you can do is laugh! I was chuffed when Himself came back from the camps with tea and sambos. He’d queued for twenty minutes to get me a vegetarian sandwich. With no onions. Awh… Forget diamond rings and Paris in the spring – that’s real romance in my eyes. The time came to pack our things and say goodbye to Electric Picnic. Tired, sticky and hurting all over.

We’d missed the bus, but luckily a mate was driving to Dublin so we bunged our gear into the back of the van and off we went, leaving the crew to dismantle Trenchtown. They were a good bunch. Back at the Bloke’s place in Temple Bar, he crashed out while I fetched dinner. Fish and chips from Leo Burdock’s on buttered batch bread. And tea. Only the best! A fitting end to an unforgettable weekend.

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