Moving house is always a funny thing. But in less than a week we’re moving not only to a new house but also to a new country – Ireland – which feels a bit of a big one. It feels like we’re about to jump off a cliff. In a good way.
I am really excited about living right next to the sea; there is a Martello tower and a swimming club directly in front of the (rented, rambling) house, and I’m intending to join the hardy old ladies who swim there daily whatever the weather (though in an industrial-strength wetsuit rather than a one-piece and a flowery hat).
Naturally, I have checked out the café situation as a matter of urgency, and it looks very healthy: I am looking forward to hunting out the Bald Barista, who reputedly makes the best coffee in Dublin (according to Time Out), and the Cake Café in Camden Street, which sounds more than promising. And of course there’s always the classic Bewleys, and Café Cagliostro over the bridge, and a clutch of good spots round Smock Alley...
Not that good coffee is the only consideration in moving to a new country – but you have to start somewhere….