On a cold Thursday evening, I tidied up my office desk, clearing away briefs, notes and grabbed my coat and scarf, I piled my car into the daily traffic jam that would move bumper to bumper until I usually arrived home. This Thursday evening was a little different, instead of turning off for the estate I live in, I continued onwards into the centre of Dublin city. I was heading to Bolton Street, to a building that houses some of my favourite things in the world.