Dublin is a low Georgian city of brick terraces and brightly painted doors, built for talking and drinking and telling stories.
Trinity College guards the illuminated Book of Kells, Viking foundations lie under the streets, and literary ghosts-Joyce, Yeats, Beckett-are everywhere. The pub is the real institution, where a slow-poured Guinness arrives with live music and conversation from strangers.
It rains, it's grey, and none of that dents the warmth or the wit of the place.
Eat a sausagey coddle, drink a proper pint, and stay for the trad session that breaks out by the bar.
Round trip from Prague, any dates in October 2026.