Not so much of the fair city today, Dublin

With thanks to Silversea for this cruise

We woke to stacks of Maersk containers this morning, with big cranes trundling up and down sorting them - who invented the container? I do remember the dockers' strikes when they were first introduced, with all their content security, thus depriving the workers of their tips. They really came into their own in Christchurch, post-earthquakes, propping some things up and making a protective barrier for others.

But anyway - Dublin. We're back in the Republic, and this is my third time in the city, I think - so I've done the obvious things, which I enjoyed, back in the glory days when I had health, and energy. Today, with neither, I shuttled into the centre, and was deposited alongside Merrion Square where the Oscar Wilde statue reclines improbably on its rock. 

I plodded through the streets, looking guiltily away as I passed numerous art galleries and museums no doubt full of treasures and interesting stories. There were flower-bedecked pubs, high-end and individual shops, buskers and a bloody-nosed man conversing cheerfully with some bemused policemen as passers-by eavesdropped. I fetched up at the rather lovely wrought-iron elegance of St Stephens Green shopping centre, where I bought paracetamol and decided I didn't feel strong enough to cope with the full-on banter of a HoHo bus commentary. For the same reason, I gave up on the idea of taking a train to the picturesque fishing village of Skerries, which I was sorry about.

So, getting lost innumerable times, literally walking in circles, coughing, sneezing and feeling so, so tired, I eventually found my way back to the shuttle stop, impeccably timing my arrival for the lunchtime break, so I sat there in the rain on some stone steps under my umbrella for over an hour, wishing many things were different.

Not that I was on a different ship, however. Crown Princess was moored nearby and veritably loomed over everything. It was immense - 3,000 passengers - and made little Silver Wind (294 pax) look like a dinghy. A friendly, personable and caring little dinghy.