All that is good in a city (and much of it that is bad) can be discovered in the first hour after landing, via that mine of knowledge, the taxi driver. In my limited experience, they are an indigenous group more-or-less identical the world over: fiercely patriotic, but aware of a city's pitfalls. And you learn so much from them.

And so it was that Connor, my guide and driver for the morning, told me all about Dublin, and not a lot about the cricket. Unsurprisingly he was completely unaware that a Quadrangular series was about to take place in the city he was born and raised in, but was pleased and amazed that West Indies ("the Windies are comin'? Fantastic!") were in town. No advertisements, no flags or posters - not a thing was to be seen promoting the tournament. The chequered blue and black flags forlornly draped on lampposts and pot-plant holders were for a Celtic football contest.

Of course, this comes as no surprise but it's a familiar and faintly depressing trend that an international series might go completely unnoticed. We will have to see whether the Irish Cricket Union's decision to lower the ticket prices - excellent though it is - is sufficient to entice the locals to Clontarf tomorrow. I fear not.

Connor's interest in cricket stemmed from the World Cup. Sat in a dingy local - "I love it, but it's certainly not one for the tourists" - supping "the milk" (Guinness, apparently), he and his friends were busily talking about everything and nothing when one local, propping up the bar, began shouting at the TV. Within an hour, most of the pub were pumping their fists and cheering Ireland on (against Pakistan), oblivious of the rules but attracted to the green uniform on the pitch, and the throng of distinctly Irish-looking fans in the crowd.

But that, for him, was that, as far as his knowledge and interest of cricket went. If the weather will allow it, a strong performance from the hosts would do wonders for local interest and promoting the game to a wider Irish audience.