Lizzie goes to Ireland for un-Thanksgiving

My first flight in many years was just fine, thank you very much. Lots of cute red headed Irish flight attendants with pink cheeks. I was prepared with my noise canceling headphones and my eyeshade (which I made - cute, right?)

I checked into my awesome hotel (AbsoluteHotel.com) in Limmerick on the River Shannon (which was raging by) and had 3 hours of sleep before touring the Cliffs of Moher, stopping at King John Castle, dating to the early 1300's

(reached by traveling over a relatively new bridge - only 500 years old!) along the way and Ireland looking just like well, Ireland. It is beautiful. I've seen so many rainbows, I've lost count.  And, it's true about the 40 shades of green. The temperature is comparable to Maine right now but there are palm trees. Weird. Here are the Cliffs of Moher.

The bus broke down at the Cliffs so I missed the dinner at Bunratty Castle, darn it. I did see the pub where Frank McCourt's father "looked for work every day" called WJ South, if you remember the book, Angela's Ashes. Also the church where he had his first communion. The neighborhood where he grew up has been torn down and replaced by habitable dwellings, thank goodness. People seem a bit embarrassed that Frank McCourt would tell about this blight in Limerick. 

I definitely stepped outside my comfort zone again the next day when I rented a car. It was a bit nerve wracking, especially the roundabouts but the drivers are all very courteous. The hedgerows are amazing - it's like you're driving in a narrow little green maze.  I went to Blarney and climbed to the top of the castle which was rather terrifying and I almost stopped and went back down a few times but I made myself do it. I DID NOT however kiss the Blarney Stone - gross! Imagine the germs! But I saw it (it's at the very top).  Then, I shopped the Blarney Woolen Mills which were not all that spectacular. The town of Blarney is very cute and I walked around and had smoked salmon in a pub for lunch.

I had to circumnavigate many villages as they were  flooded. You can see evidence of high water everywhere and I saw a car that had gone off the road into the flooded fields. Yikes!

So on to Killarney. It is a resort town so about half full right now, nice and quiet, however the pubs are all open and I went out to hear some traditional Irish fiddle music.

I met a nice bunch at dinner the first night (really good piece of cod and yummy local goat cheese) and they dissuaded me from driving the Ring of Kerry by myself, for which I'm glad - very narrow and windy with sheer cliffs off to the side plus a lot of flooding. I took the motor coach (about 15 of us) and it was wonderful. What a beautiful country. The sky was blue (!) and our first stop was to gaze at the Magillicuddy Creech, topped with snow. Lovely against the green farmland dotted with sheep.

The guide was Tony and he is sort of the Irish version of Richard Gere. Very charming and funny and knowledgeable too and I loved the sound of his brogue.

We stopped at a traditional bog village with the thatched roofs and peat fires where there were the most gorgeous, albeit wet and muddy, Irish Wolfhounds in a paddock, as tall as me – looked me right in the eye! So I got a little doggy fix.

Check out the pile of peat next to the cottage

Went to the Red Fox Inn for lunch and could have kicked myself for not having the fish and chips. Wow – it looked amazing. Had the potato leek soup instead. We had two shopping stops where we were served Irish Coffee when we stepped in the door - apparently in appreciation for shopping with them this time of year. Hot coffee with brown sugar and a pile of fresh cream on top! Not a lot of tourists around. Saw the Atlantic from this side and went to Lahinch where surfing is  relatively new to Ireland - they apparently have 50' waves here!  I was taken by the circle forts where the people and their cattle lived 2000 years ago. Like in England, you get such a sense of history and what a grain of sand you are in the whole scheme of things.

It is so easy to live in the now in Ireland where there is something new and fabulous around every corner. Not too much time to think about any worries.

      

Saturday night in the pub. In what must be the highlight of my trip, I spent Saturday night at O’Connors Pub. I went with four new friends and we found a small table in front of the peat fire, not three feet from the musicians: a squeezebox, a fiddle and a guitar. They were wonderful. The pub filled up fast and in comes a little old Irishman, straight through the door and dancing a jig right in front of us, heels hitting the floor hard.  Every time they sang a song about Ireland (most of the songs actually), pints were raised, eyes closed and the lyrics belted out by every voice in the pub, an occasional tear running down a cheek. Oh my. It was a sight to behold.

Suddenly, a man with a broom jumps onto the floor in front of us and does the “brush dance”, the broom moving in a blur of motion up, down, between the legs, twirled in front of him. Amazing and the crowd went wild.  The best part though, was Folks: Tiny from Cork is going to sing us a song. Up comes a HUGE man with a GIANT beer belly. He takes the microphone, stands in front of the fire, finds his note, and out of his mouth the sweetest tenor you’d ever want to hear! As he gets into the song, his eyes close and the hand with his pint drifts down. Rhonda (new friend from Chicago, a professional singer) takes the pint from him and puts it on our table. He sang three or four songs and then disappeared to get another pint with much backslapping along the way.

I got quite the beer rinse in my hair, let me tell you, as the night wore on.  So much fun. I left my friends there around 11pm and walked back to the hotel.

Unfortunately Cashell and Dublin were wash-outs. Literally.

here is Cashell

It was pouring when I woke up, poured all day and all night. So, after looking through the raindrops at some of the sights around the city (the oldest pub in Ireland was kind of cool: The Brazen Head, dating to 1198!), we voted to do the tour at Guinness. It was seven stories of the history of the making of Guinness. It was interesting and hope the beer gods don't strike me dead but I am not a huge fan of the taste of Guinness. 250 years ago the founder signed a 9,000 year lease and you can see that set into the floor. The present day factory is on 60 acres and has the tallest public space in Dublin - although with the rain, the view was not exactly crystal clear.

So, a week later found me back on Aer Lingus for the trip home. I had a lovely and somewhat turbulent flight, picked up the girls and drove to home sweet home. I am a huge fan of Ireland and inordinately proud of myself for making the trip. I plan to go back and tour Dublin and points north as I pretty much stuck to the southern routes, mostly due to the flooding.


Thanks for the love and support and you know who you are, and thank you, Dan, for telling me, just go to Ireland, just go!  xoxo