Let's move to a historic capital city that'll soon be underwater! This week: Dublin

What’s it about?

Birthplace of Oscar Wilde, WB Yeats, James Joyce, and George Bernard Shaw, who all emigrated as soon as possible, Dublin is truly one of Europe’s great cultural centers.

Whether you’re a hammered Brit, a shitfaced American or an international corporation looking to create a European headquarters to wash profits through under astoundingly low corporate tax rates, then Dublin’s the city for you.

Any good points?

Dublin’s small, making it eminently walkable for Leopold Bloom in 1904 and you today. Which is just as well as it’s amazing how a modern capital can boast such a profoundly dysfunctional public transport network.

Established as a port town by Vikings to use as a base for raiding nearby Christian monasteries, over a millennium later, this proud spirit of theft and pillaging is carried on by the heroin addicts who congregate by the banks of the Liffey looking for tourists to pick-pocket.

Ireland’s love of traditional music makes Dublin a haven for buskers. As such, it’s nearly impossible to walk down Grafton Street without seeing an Ireland’s Got Talent reject doing a shit Ed Sheeran impression.

Wonderful landscape?

Building a city on an estuary’s flood plain was no big deal in the 10th century, but global warming is making that decision increasingly untenable. If you like your streets flat and soon to be submerged, you’ll love Dublin.

Why not enjoy a wonderful al fresco lunch in the beautiful Stephen’s Green, while you still can? Sample overpriced lunch options near a body of stagnant water erroneously named ‘a pond’ while fending off some of the most ravenous and aggressive seagulls Western Europe has to offer.

Or go for a seaside paddle at Sandymount Strand, being careful to heed the frequent ‘Do Not Swim’ signs which should append ‘unless you wish to be covered in human effluent from the nearby sewage treatment works.’

Tourism landmarks don’t come more disappointing than the Spire, a large metal pole in the middle of O’Connell Street – a former shopping street now full of bookies and grim casinos. You’ll be grateful for this 121m folly when your iPhone’s stolen and you need a familiar landmark to return to.

Hang out at…

After a night out in Copper’s, or any of the other grim, sticky-floored subterranean nightclubs on Harcourt Street, why not head to Charlie’s to console yourself with the other single losers by drunkenly gorging on a spice bag in a halogen-lit hell-hole?

In the mood to see groups of American tourists jokingly fondle the bronze bust of a Victorian fishmonger? Why not visit the statue of Molly Malone?

Or spend a lazy afternoon lounging in the grounds of Trinity College, Dublin, Ireland’s oldest, and most pretentious, university. Pretend you’re in a Sally Rooney novel and ignore the pissed privately-educated Irish wankers and the English students too thick for Oxford and Cambridge whose parents still wanted them to go to a nice old university.

Where to buy?

Millionaire? No? Fuck off then. Or be grateful for whatever dilapidated, single-bed hovel in the commuter belt you can afford. Enjoy your two-hour odyssey into work each day from Mulhuddart, until your home’s bought via compulsory purchase order by a multinational corporation looking to level it and develop a data centre on the land.

From the streets:

Tom Logan, 47, sociopathic Facebook employee and neo-slum landlord: “I love Dublin. I moved here from California to buy a small two-bedroom investment property in Rathmines to sublet. It’s true what they say about the Irish being friendly, all 13 of my tenants are delightful.”

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Mash Blind Date: 'Being stood up went better than 90 per cent of my dates'

IS it wrong for a 34-year-old career woman to find more fulfilment in the vacant space where her date should be than if he was present? 

Mary on being stood up

First impression

Weary disappointment that my date texted ten minutes late to say ‘sory cant make it’, followed by rising elation when I realised I wouldn’t have to pretend some dick off the internet had interesting opinions or could tell jokes. I could just relax instead.

How was the conversation?

Incredible, best I’ve ever had on a first date. I ordered my food then ate in blissful, comfortable silence. Didn’t have to share a bottle of wine. Would recommend.

Memorable moments?

My bill got paid by the restaurant who took pity on me, failing to notice I was having an amazing evening. Just when I thought it couldn’t go any better. I left a massive tip.

Favourite thing about being stood up?

The lack of pressure. The lack of wondering if he likes me. The lack of worrying if he’s going to kiss me. The overall lack of everything was just top notch. Being stood up was the relationship I’d always dreamed of.

A capsule description?

Funny, attractive woman eats alone in a fancy restaurant and realises that it’s way better than any available man.

Was there a spark?

Yes, when I realised I could order the sticky toffee pudding without sharing it.

What happened afterwards?

I went home, changed into my pyjamas, opened a second a bottle of Merlot and scrolled Instagram for two hours before treating myself to a wank.

What would you change about the evening?

Nothing, the date was perfect from start to finish. I’m even glad I shaved my legs.

Will you see each other again?

I’d honestly be disappointed to go on a date where the guy actually turns up. I’ve set too high a bar.

Being stood up on Mary

First impression

A dazzling, confident woman who likes a laugh and prefers the complete absence of a man to a man. Which suits me.

How was the conversation?

Not existing, I’m kind of a silent type, which she loved.

Memorable moments?

How delighted she looked when she realised she wouldn’t have to be on for the evening. I don’t think most men have ever seen a woman so happy.

Favourite thing about Mary?

Her ease in my company. Her willingness to accept me for who I’m not, ie anything at all.

A capsule description?

A mix of nitrogen, oxygen, carbon dioxide and trace noble gases opposite a woman who’s enjoying the best date she’s been on in her life.

Was there a spark?

Mary was really into my complete lack of substance. If I were sentient that might damage my self-esteem.

What happened afterwards?

I dispersed into the surrounding atmosphere. Part of me drifted round the corner to the kebab shop, while the rest of me floated up into the ceiling fans.

What would you change about the evening?

Nothing. Existing would have ruined it.