We're having afternoon tea in The Nude Cafe.  It's slick and hip and something of a disappointment after the build-up its name gives it.  The food is good but pricey and the coffee is, well, the same I get everywhere in the UK. 

Here's a hint for all you Irish, British and (I suspect) Continental cafe employees: diluted espresso resembles coffee in the same way that a wet raisin resembles a grape.  If you're not going to actually brew any decent coffee then for God's sake at least have a jar of instant on hand. 

It rained a bit in the early afternoon, so we ducked into Dublinia for some indoor entertainment.  This, too, was pricey and ended with a view but since the observation deck was a church steeple there was no one up there handing out free pints.

Dublinia is an interactive exhibit about medieval Dublin and it possessed all the professional polish of the Santa's Grotto my local garden centre used to toss up every December for the amusement of their customers.  To be fair, that's how it was advertised in the guidebook so that's what we were expecting to find, and it was great fun playing with the exhibits and pressing the different buttons so we could hear about the Black Plague in French and German. 

From the observation deck, we had a grand view of the mist and low clouds similar to the one we'd recently seen from the Gravity Bar.  There were pay telescopes mounted in front of each window (a euro a view; they're only a quarter in the States) but clouds look the same close up as the do far away so we gave that a miss. 

By the time we made it back to the street it was beginning to clear up, so we headed, once more, toward St. Steven's Green, this time to do some shopping. 

St. Steven's Green Shopping Centre rivals many malls I've seen in the States.  It was vast and bright and multi-levelled and filled with overpriced tourist kitsch for people like us, and overpriced boutiques for the locals who liked to suffer for their fashion.  It was also filled with gangs of local school girls whose uniforms had been modified to feature unbuttoned collars and loose ties in the Avril Lavigne style, while her latest single blared through the mall's loud speakers.  I take it the Canadian waif is popular on this little island. 

Having had our fill of the trendy shops inside the mall, we decided to try the trendy shops outside the mall.  But first we needed some refreshment so we stopped at an O'Brien's Irish Sandwich Bar--Ireland's answer to Starbuck's.  I can't recall the details but there was some language-barrier confusion in the till queue about what I wanted and/or what was available and I ended up paying €4.50 for a bottle of water when I was already carrying one. 

Refreshed, but chagrined, we headed for Grafton Street. 

Grafton Street is an amazement; a pedestrian area filled with shops and cafe's and more people per square meter than the mosh-pit at an Eminem concert.  And if the pedestrians magically disappeared and you were tempted to swing a cat, you wouldn't be able to without hitting a street performer.  The crowds were so thick I missed the sign for the cigar store, but my wife (bless her) pointed it out and we ducked inside where it was much less crowded. 

When you're shopping for cigars with a non-cigar lover, it's difficult to explain how a box of Montecristo's priced at the equivalent of $250 is really a good deal.  Even I had to admit we couldn't afford to save that much money, so I contented myself with picking out a few singles.  While I was browsing, an American couple entered, looking to buy some gifts for friends back home. 

"Our friends aren't really cigar lovers, but they do smoke occasionally and we thought they'd like a nice Cuban cigar," they explained to the eager clerk. "You can't buy them in the US, you know." 

I might have also pointed out that you can't bring them into the US, either.  In fact, a strict reading of the law will tell you it is illegal for a US citizen to buy them and/or smoke them even in a foreign country.  And, technically, it's not a misdemeanor; it's treason.  And in a time of war, doesn't treason qualify you to be guest of honor at a firing squad party? 

Neither I, nor the American couple, noticed anyone handing out blindfolds, however, so we happily bagged up our purchases.  As long as they have sense enough to hide them in their luggage and not in their carry-on bags they should make the transition from law-abiding citizens to death-marked traitors with no problem.  The problems will begin when their friends light them up. 

A causal cigar smoker, unfamiliar with Cubans, is going to have quite a challenge handling the $20 torpedoes they picked out.  They should have simply taken the bands off, put them on White Owls for their friends to smoke and given me the genuine articles.  Then everyone would have been happy and in no danger of having their last cigarette while tied to a stake. 

Except for me, of course, but I'm willing to take the risk.