An Irish Blessing

This country is painted all green.
The rain keeps the landscape so clean.
In accents so sweet, the people you meet
Will render your heart quite complete.

With a group of fun and feisty couples, Doug and I recently returned from the Emerald Isle imbibing bucolic scenery, majestic cliffs, ancient castles, rich history, merry music, and the most important imbibery of them all: the ale.

Our journey began with a celebration – a sweet marriage proposal during a delightful performance of fiddles, flute, accordion, harp and dancing from The Irish House Party. You wouldn't think the trip would get much happier than that. But the party was just getting started.

My wish came true the very next day when I got to see Bono! In Dublin! Of course, it was only a large picture of him on the side of a building. No matter, my quest to run into U2 at a pub was quickly forgotten. Every Irish person we met was its own adventure. Take the bartender at the Temple Bar. He had me sized up in approximately five second, grabbing the cocktail menu from my hands, sensing my fickle preferences and commanding my drink choice. We didn't need to add a superstar to our mix. The bartenders were entertaining enough.

From Dublin we routed around the country where we made a stop in Kilkenny to find a bus driver who was as "Mad as a March Hare" as our tour guide warned us. He was ornery, interesting, and endearing despite his capacity to make a "feckin" sailor seasick. This is where I became awestruck by our very first castle viewing! And I never quit being awestruck!  

Then we winded our way to Waterford to relive a medieval soap opera, also known as the Marriage of Strongbow which was mildly reminiscent of Game of Thrones. We viewed Catholic vestments lined with 24-carat gold thread which were hidden underground for 123 years. (Clearly, here's a possibility for a National Treasure sequel.) We quenched our thirst at a pub called The Ginger Man where I almost scored a free copy of James Joyce's The Odyssey. (The bartender was giving away books left behind but "not that one!" I was almost out the door with it. I mean, the book had a price tag of $3.99.)

The next day we were off to the incredible Blarney Castle with its narrow, winding stairs which were designed to foil the enemies and cause tourists to bump their heads. Some of us kissed the Blarney Stone. Some of us missed the Blarney Stone (namely me.) In truth, I don't think any of us on that tour needed to be blessed with more gift of gab. 

We toured the beautiful Ring of Kerry and made much merry in the city of Killarney – not even realizing it was a fashion capital as the men in our group sported dashing, wool, sheep sweaters. You can tell a great city when pubs leave to-go cups at the exit. The next morning we enjoyed a particularly quiet bus ride to the most beautiful place I've ever seen: The Cliffs of Moher. Thank God it rained that day. Not only did it make for great photos, but allowed all of us to wear the cute rain boots we hauled across the pond. Doug would've been devastated.

We found our way to Limerick to feast at a medieval banquet in a (you guessed it) a castle. The music and feast were almost as entertaining as the limericks the resident dog lover in our group created––much better than the crap I wrote above. Laura's Limericks. Watch for something to be published soon. There just aren't enough limericks about egg salad and sheep sweaters.

Speaking of dogs, we tried our best to see some real Irish Wolfhounds, even paying 7 euro a pop to watch two sleeping dogs lie. Luckily, we had a sheep dog demonstration! It didn't disappoint showing the brilliance of dogs who know how to listen, behave and serve a useful purpose. Still, my hubby wasn't convinced of the need for a canine at Kramer Farms, even if our cows did get out while we were gone.

We found much more merrymaking in Galway City, but our group was beginning to lag as our trip wound down. We didn't stay long, and good thing. The birds in that town were quite aggressive, not as welcoming as the Irish people.

Our last night had come, and we had the pleasure of staying in Cabra Castle. It was beautiful with rose gardens and all the ancient opulence you'd expect. There was even a fairy tale wedding happening. Our amazing tour guide hadn't told us much about this particular castle. I'm guessing he thought he had filled our heads with as much Irish history as we could hold. But on the way home, I suspected another reason he hadn't told us much. I discovered it was haunted! I didn't notice any unusual activity, but I'm assuming our loud group had pushed the spirits into the forest for the night.

There was much more on this vacation. But as you may recall, I didn't kiss the Blarney Stone. So I'll wrap it up. It was the longest vacation Doug and I had ever been on. Coincidentally, we spent the summer solstice in Ireland where there was sixteen hours of daylight. My birthday also fell on the day we flew home in which we gained an additional six hours of celebrating – in an airplane no less. Longest vacation. Longest day. Longest birthday. I'd relive it all again.

I vowed to disconnect from work, and I did. But I didn't disconnect. As a matter of fact, I feel more connected than ever. I allowed myself to engage in conversation without planning the next task in my brain. I let myself fall asleep, lulled by the serene countryside, without one speck of guilt. I let myself enjoy history and beauty. I even let myself have cocktails without worrying what the next day would bring. (Maybe I should've worried about that a little bit.) Best of all, I let myself laugh with old friends and new friends.

A huge shout-out to Bambi and Steve at Four Seasons Travel and Mick Mulcahy with Collette Vacations for making an unbelievable and unforgettable experience.

Slainte!