Miriam Lord:Easter week 1916, and the Shelbourne Hotel is under regular fire from rebel forces. Afternoon tea is transferred to rooms in the rear of the building, an area that would later become the Horseshoe Bar. It's been a plush little bunker in the centre of Dublin ever since.
When the hotel closed two years ago for a major revamp, a certain section of society lost a cherished watering hole. Life was once more complete for these people yesterday. The Horseshoe is open for business again. The Shelbourne is a gas place. Arty-farty meets big bucks and everything else in between. It's a great place for gossip.
The Grand Dame of St Stephen's Green was looking a bit down at heel by the time the doors closed in 2005. Her five-star status was in question. Newer establishments were tempting her capricious clientele.
In the new Ireland, history counts for little. The SUV generation are mad for "boutique" hotels. They replicate the minimalist chic in their own delightful residences.
But the Shelbourne has bounced back after a €90 million facelift and is taking on the competition. It reopened for business yesterday and many loyal patrons turned up to celebrate its rebirth.
They've retained the creak in some of the floorboards. "We intentionally kept the launch very simple and low key," said general manager Liam P Doyle. "This hotel doesn't need a fanfare, it's grand in itself."
Noon was the appointed time, and all the staff gathered in the foyer for the big moment. They counted down the seconds, champagne was popped to huge applause and those familiar old revolving doors were set in motion.
Within an hour, the place was buzzing. Eamon Dunphy made a beeline for the Horseshoe and pronounced himself satisfied with the results. The bar hasn't been changed, and a quick look around saw a music business manager, a High Court judge, a business high-flyer, a smattering of journalists, a man in a strange hat and two women with shopping bags digging into the bar stools and leather banquettes.
The Shelbourne is the Shelbourne. A lady of a certain age was in the foyer, marking out her territory. "The last concierge used to look after my Yorkshire terrier," she was informing a bellboy in no uncertain terms.
The "bell team" - as they were described by a PR lady - are wearing new outfits, topped off by pillbox hats. Apparently, there are only two other five-star hotels in the world where the "bell team" wear old-fashioned pillboxes: the Peninsula in Hong Kong and the George V in Paris.
"We have the ceiling height," she explained. Maybe they should have gone for broke and decked them out with stovepipes.
The lift has been removed from the back of the foyer, opening up the entrance space magnificently. Guests can now walk through to the new Saddle Room restaurant, complete with oyster bar.
Upstairs, the historic Constitution Room has been faithfully restored. A favourite venue for political press conferences, it now has air-conditioning. This means politicians will look far less shifty, given that they won't have to make announcements with sweat pouring down their faces.
Meanwhile, the bedrooms have had a makeover.
The "Heritage" rooms start at €335 a night, and include use of the Heritage Lounge, where snacks, board games and stuff are available. Guests, we are told, will be able to "cut their own soap". For that price, you'd think somebody would unwrap the Lux for them.
There are 19 suites, named after famous former residents. The Princess Grace suite is the biggest (€1,800 a night) and it was bagged at 6am yesterday by the hotel's first guest - Irish-American businessman Tom Moran, of Mutual of America, who is also a director of the Bank of Ireland.
Back downstairs at the revamped No 27 bar and lounge, Tom's Irish associate, Niall Kehoe, was enjoying a celebratory drink with restaurateur Dan McGrattan. Niall had booked into the Martin Burke suite and said it was "fabulous".
"This is one of the great hotels of the world, and we just had to be here for the reopening. It's a major event," said Dan, opening the champagne.
A pint of stout is €5.20, a Bloody Mary costs €12.50 and a Black Velvet will set you back €18.50.
John McLoughlin, formerly of Stackstown Golf Club, is the head barman. When you see him shaking cocktails with such panache in the Horseshoe, you wonder what our macho gardaí like to drink after playing a round.
And so to the wallpaper. Which is a cause of great celebration. It's not paper at all, but printed silk. As a result, the walls are rather soft, and feel very nice.
Patrons who have partaken a little too enthusiastically may not just nod off on the leather couches. They could go asleep leaning against the walls, snoring happily against the silk like horses.
The hotel has its very own Genealogy Butler. (So that's a pint of plain for himself, a large Crème de Menthe for the granny and a family tree for Uncle Hubert.)
Seven suites have still to be named. What about the Dunphy, the Pearson, the Mara, the Senior Counsel, the Hack, the Model and the Hanger-on? They'll have no problem getting business.
The chatterati were already out in force. Somebody who knows these things gave us his informed opinion over lunch: "The breast implant brigade have already moved from the Four Seasons to the Dylan. They'll be here by Friday. Very fickle." Aaaah, The Shel-bur-in . . . Good to have it back.