Dublin for The Slow Weekenders: a Friday-to-Monday weekend

Free, with the Caravaggio found in a Jesuit dining room and a room of Jack Yeats; pick one wing and leave the rest for another year.

A bench in the railed garden among the Georgian doors, Wilde on his rock in the corner; the sculptures and the lamps come on around six.

A small room by the old Theatre Royal that lets you bring your own wine, with slow braises and a table you keep all night.

An infinity pool under a vaulted ceiling and a treatment in the hotel made of four Georgian houses; book a morning slot and stay for the steam room.

A long lunch in a corner room of mirrors and banquettes, with a set menu that unhurriedly runs to three courses and a half bottle of Sancerre.

A bench by the cascade in the Guinness family's walled garden, with the maze and the rosarium and nothing you are obliged to look at.

The DART to the harbour, then the granite pier the Victorians built for promenading, a bandstand halfway and a Teddy's ice cream at the end.

Lunch in the old ferry terminal's booking hall with the harbour in the window, fish pie and a glass of something cold, no clock on the wall.

The Martello tower where Ulysses opens, with Joyce's waistcoat and the gun-platform view across the bay; free, kept by volunteers, closes early.

Open at ten and empty for the first hour: Japanese scrolls, Qurans and Egyptian papyri in low light, with a roof garden for the sun.

A Middle Eastern-leaning menu at a Capel Street café, Turkish eggs or mezze and a slow coffee, with a pastry for the last cup of the weekend.

Twenty minutes on the castle lawn among the brick walls before the taxi, the city's black pool now a circle of grass.