Still. I can breathe a sigh of relief that she's a plane journey away. Although it seems that our home phone has become the hotline to Dublin. She's been on Irish soil since half past 12 today and already we've had six phone calls. The first as above, the second and third at the hotel to let us know that a) her bedroom is lovely and opposite Margaret's and b) to let us know that the pelican crossing noise is different in Dublin.
The fourth call was a joint one with Margaret as they were walking through St Stephens Green on their way to the shopping centre, the fifth to ask me if David needed any new pants as there's "a sort of Debenhams equivalent here" and, half an hour ago, the sixth call to ask if it would be wrong to go for an Italian meal on their first night in Ireland instead of finding somewhere that serves "soda bread and colcannon".
We've got another four days of this.