Dublin for The Curious Wanderers: a Friday-to-Monday weekend

Two jewellers' shop stocked only with Irish makers: Arran Street East pots, Mourne textiles, and the knives and brushes you will want to carry home.

The first new distillery in the Liberties in over a century, in the quarter that once had thirty; the tour ends at the copper stills with three drams.

A corner pub on the Liberties' oldest market street turned into a serious kitchen, with pies, offal, and a cheese trolley the cooks of the city come for.

The Saturday makers' market on the cobbled lane behind Essex Street: printmakers, leather, ceramics, and no tat.

The Victorian east wing's glass-roofed panopticon and the stone-breakers' yard where the 1916 leaders were shot; book the tour, it sells out weeks ahead.

A dim bar named for the year poitín was outlawed, with a Belfast Coffee made from it and a short menu of toasties and oysters.

The guided route goes below the state apartments to the Viking-era wall, the moat steps, and the stump of the Powder Tower.

A mining magnate's collection of Islamic astrolabe treatises, alchemical and medical scrolls, and papyrus gospels, free and in a quiet wing behind the castle.

A tiny room across from the barracks serving whatever came off the day boats, with natural wine and a chalkboard that changes nightly.

The counter that built the Irish farmhouse-cheese trade; ask for the Durrus and the Coolea and whatever is best this week.

The studio behind the shop throws the pots sold across the city; a taster session at the wheel gets you one fired and posted.

A ham and cheese toastie and a pint under paintings for sale, in the pub where the city's writers have been not writing since 1973.