We were quite hungry and looked around for a place to eat. We saw the Lincoln in but it didn't appear to be open. We cross the street and stuck our heads in and sure enough there was one guy at the bar and one waitress. So we came in set up shop, ordered and before you know it the whole place was full. We had a great lunch but the strange man that was there at the beginning was still there. When we left I snapped a picture of him clandestinely. He was making a very strange doodle or cartoon, I couldn't be sure which. This neighborhood is where Oscar Wilde was born and where James Joyce met his wife.
