Flying in from Bordeaux we floated over the ocean with a view of boats, city buildings and the non-stop green of countryside.

My plane was filled with Frenchmen going to Connemara to fly fish on the Corrib and to play golf on the numerous windy golf courses.

I took a cab to Buswells, a hotel which is restored with a taste of old world charm.

Immediately my Tods were hot to trot over to Grafton Street.

I was pleased to see the majority of mannequins once again had heads; a few years back that was not the case, most were headless Anne Boleyn, overtly politically correct, "Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil."

I walked past the shiny black wooden front of The Duke pub, known for its lunch time meals of assorted roasts of pork, corn beef, and gammon, chicken and salmon.

The first mannequins to catch my eye were at Marks and Spencer.

They were two little girls with wild-molded-do's, wearing sunglasses enhancing the silliness of their expressions.

It was obviously time to have fun for the summer.

A few steps away were vendors selling brilliant orange and yellow flowers as well as simple and to the point white roses.

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