A Wee Irish Weekend
You never miss the water till the well has run dry.
--- Irish proverb
So true! We should all feel grateful for at least one thing at the end of every day – even if it's only for the water!
Right now, I feel grateful for many things, actually. Especially because Sean and I got to spend last weekend in Ireland with our friend Jennifer Boyle and her lovely family. She lives in Glenbeigh, which is a tiny village seated on the south side of the mouth of Dingle Bay in County Kerry. By tiny, I mean everyone there knows or is related to everyone else there due to the three pubs and the church, which make excellent gossip stations. In Jennifer's house were also her mother Mary, daughter Caoimhe (pronounced Kiva), age 7 and baby son Fionn, age 6 mos.
We flew from Barcelona to Shannon on Friday and picked up a rental car. Driving in Ireland is quite entertaining enough, as it's done on the wrong side of the car and road! Sean did all the work, and I was his trusty assistant yelling, "keep left!" whenever appropriate. Appropriate, meaning, at all times.
The 3-hour drive was gorgeous as we passed rollicking hillsides the shade of emerald green, newborn lambs and sheep spotting them like daisies. A lazy horse lay down with limbs and neck sprawled out for maximum sun exposure, looking quite drunk. Birds were everywhere, chirping. It was like we'd stepped into the Bambi movie during the scene when all the little creatures are born in springtime.
We finally arrived to Jen's house around 6pm, and she had oodles of Chianti and food for us. We spent our first night chatting with her, playing with the kids and watching the DVD, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Caoimhe gave us an exact interpretation of the Oompa Loompa dance, which was lovely.
On Saturday morning we drove down to Burke’s Equestrian Center and went on a lovely "trek" down on the beach astride two HUGE Irish Draught horses. Mine was Paddy and Sean's was Harvey. We trotted down the narrow road to the beach and went walking in the ocean up to the horses' bellies. Harvey stopped at one point with Paddy close behind and nearly dropped his road apples on my leg! (Never forget, the sea is full of everything.) We took an hour's ride, and by the time our ride was over, Sean had really finessed the art of posting. (Posting is what riders do during the trot in English-style riding. It's the up-down-up-down motion.) For what it's worth, I should probably mention here, that Sean put a lot of, mm, pelvis in his posting.
Later Saturday, we had a nice lunch at Jennifer's friend Jackie's cafe and then took a drive up to a beautiful secluded lake in the mountains. The lake is as pristine as it is silent, and the only other beings we saw there were two backpackers and about 100 sheep that seemed rather bothered by our existence.
Saturday night we hit the town with Jen and her girlfriends Jackie and Gina. Sean was the token male, and he did all right! Jen treated us to a lovely dinner in Kilorglin (the next village over from Glenbeigh) at a place called the Top Deck. Then, the five of us went on a pub crawl. All the pubs were stuffed with Irish revelers drinking pints of Guinness and Harp. I had overeaten my seafood dinner, so I steered clear of Guinness. Sean, however, took the challenge and consumed about 10 thousand calories – just like the best of 'em! That night, with the girls, we got to hear about all the goings on between the two villages. It was a good reminder that even in small towns, big news is a daily occurrence. This type of story-telling and gossip-swapping appealed to the journalistic sides of me and Sean, and we were thoroughly entertained to hear all about it. We left Kilorglin at nearly 1 AM and took a cab back to Glenbeigh. Sean proceeded in going out longer (after hours) with Jackie, who was bent on meeting up with her husband (so she wouldn't miss anything) at a pub called The Towers, right down the road from Jen's house.
The next morning, Sean told me that when he walked into The Towers with Jackie, he felt every eye in the room turn on him, wondering who that man was with John's wife! But, he said, once word spread that he was a friend of Jenny's up the road, it only took moments to have more pints handed to him as welcome gifts. John told him that he would be tomorrow's gossip at church. Needless to say, Sean rolled in around 3:30AM, smelling quite ripe I do say!
Sunday we lounged. The weather that had been gloriously sunny had turned to the mythical mist that is just so quintessentially Ireland. We took a little drive into Killarney (my favorite Irish city) and had lunch. There was something called the Rally Races taking place in the area the whole weekend, which made the narrow roadways jam up like L.A. freeways on a Friday afternoon. Rally Races, we learned, are basically back-road car races run by hooligans driving supped up Porches and Mini Coopers. It seemed pretty crazy to me because from what I could tell, the races took place on the same roads that residents use – with virtually no designations or signage. The only time something like that would happen in America is never. But we managed to avoid having a head-on with a rally car, and made it into Killarney safely, albeit a bit slowly.
Sunday night, Jen fixed us a lovely dinner and then we had to hit the road back to Shannon. Our flight Monday morning to Barcelona was early, so we stayed in a B&B near the airport.
I hope I was able to convey a slice of life in Ireland the way we experienced it last weekend. For an island country of hardly more than 3 million souls, Ireland is full of mythic places, jolly folk and now, a thriving economy. In fact, we learned that Ireland has the fastest-growing economy in the EU. It's quite obvious, actually, by the construction and development we saw in nearly every village. Good for the Irish! In fact, we heard that an immigration reversal has begun. From American cities with histories of Irish immigrants in search of better life like Boston, Chicago and New York, the Irish are returning to Ireland where work is aplenty and boom is abound. To the Irish who helped America grow, I say thank you. To the Irish who are coming back home to help Ireland grow, I say, "Slainte!"
---- Kate
To view all our photos from Ireland (with the added bonus of an assortment of Spain photos thrown in) click here: http://www.imagestation.com/album/pictures.html?id=2106804605
--- Irish proverb
So true! We should all feel grateful for at least one thing at the end of every day – even if it's only for the water!
Right now, I feel grateful for many things, actually. Especially because Sean and I got to spend last weekend in Ireland with our friend Jennifer Boyle and her lovely family. She lives in Glenbeigh, which is a tiny village seated on the south side of the mouth of Dingle Bay in County Kerry. By tiny, I mean everyone there knows or is related to everyone else there due to the three pubs and the church, which make excellent gossip stations. In Jennifer's house were also her mother Mary, daughter Caoimhe (pronounced Kiva), age 7 and baby son Fionn, age 6 mos.
We flew from Barcelona to Shannon on Friday and picked up a rental car. Driving in Ireland is quite entertaining enough, as it's done on the wrong side of the car and road! Sean did all the work, and I was his trusty assistant yelling, "keep left!" whenever appropriate. Appropriate, meaning, at all times.
The 3-hour drive was gorgeous as we passed rollicking hillsides the shade of emerald green, newborn lambs and sheep spotting them like daisies. A lazy horse lay down with limbs and neck sprawled out for maximum sun exposure, looking quite drunk. Birds were everywhere, chirping. It was like we'd stepped into the Bambi movie during the scene when all the little creatures are born in springtime.
We finally arrived to Jen's house around 6pm, and she had oodles of Chianti and food for us. We spent our first night chatting with her, playing with the kids and watching the DVD, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Caoimhe gave us an exact interpretation of the Oompa Loompa dance, which was lovely.
On Saturday morning we drove down to Burke’s Equestrian Center and went on a lovely "trek" down on the beach astride two HUGE Irish Draught horses. Mine was Paddy and Sean's was Harvey. We trotted down the narrow road to the beach and went walking in the ocean up to the horses' bellies. Harvey stopped at one point with Paddy close behind and nearly dropped his road apples on my leg! (Never forget, the sea is full of everything.) We took an hour's ride, and by the time our ride was over, Sean had really finessed the art of posting. (Posting is what riders do during the trot in English-style riding. It's the up-down-up-down motion.) For what it's worth, I should probably mention here, that Sean put a lot of, mm, pelvis in his posting.
Later Saturday, we had a nice lunch at Jennifer's friend Jackie's cafe and then took a drive up to a beautiful secluded lake in the mountains. The lake is as pristine as it is silent, and the only other beings we saw there were two backpackers and about 100 sheep that seemed rather bothered by our existence.
Saturday night we hit the town with Jen and her girlfriends Jackie and Gina. Sean was the token male, and he did all right! Jen treated us to a lovely dinner in Kilorglin (the next village over from Glenbeigh) at a place called the Top Deck. Then, the five of us went on a pub crawl. All the pubs were stuffed with Irish revelers drinking pints of Guinness and Harp. I had overeaten my seafood dinner, so I steered clear of Guinness. Sean, however, took the challenge and consumed about 10 thousand calories – just like the best of 'em! That night, with the girls, we got to hear about all the goings on between the two villages. It was a good reminder that even in small towns, big news is a daily occurrence. This type of story-telling and gossip-swapping appealed to the journalistic sides of me and Sean, and we were thoroughly entertained to hear all about it. We left Kilorglin at nearly 1 AM and took a cab back to Glenbeigh. Sean proceeded in going out longer (after hours) with Jackie, who was bent on meeting up with her husband (so she wouldn't miss anything) at a pub called The Towers, right down the road from Jen's house.
The next morning, Sean told me that when he walked into The Towers with Jackie, he felt every eye in the room turn on him, wondering who that man was with John's wife! But, he said, once word spread that he was a friend of Jenny's up the road, it only took moments to have more pints handed to him as welcome gifts. John told him that he would be tomorrow's gossip at church. Needless to say, Sean rolled in around 3:30AM, smelling quite ripe I do say!
Sunday we lounged. The weather that had been gloriously sunny had turned to the mythical mist that is just so quintessentially Ireland. We took a little drive into Killarney (my favorite Irish city) and had lunch. There was something called the Rally Races taking place in the area the whole weekend, which made the narrow roadways jam up like L.A. freeways on a Friday afternoon. Rally Races, we learned, are basically back-road car races run by hooligans driving supped up Porches and Mini Coopers. It seemed pretty crazy to me because from what I could tell, the races took place on the same roads that residents use – with virtually no designations or signage. The only time something like that would happen in America is never. But we managed to avoid having a head-on with a rally car, and made it into Killarney safely, albeit a bit slowly.
Sunday night, Jen fixed us a lovely dinner and then we had to hit the road back to Shannon. Our flight Monday morning to Barcelona was early, so we stayed in a B&B near the airport.
I hope I was able to convey a slice of life in Ireland the way we experienced it last weekend. For an island country of hardly more than 3 million souls, Ireland is full of mythic places, jolly folk and now, a thriving economy. In fact, we learned that Ireland has the fastest-growing economy in the EU. It's quite obvious, actually, by the construction and development we saw in nearly every village. Good for the Irish! In fact, we heard that an immigration reversal has begun. From American cities with histories of Irish immigrants in search of better life like Boston, Chicago and New York, the Irish are returning to Ireland where work is aplenty and boom is abound. To the Irish who helped America grow, I say thank you. To the Irish who are coming back home to help Ireland grow, I say, "Slainte!"
---- Kate
To view all our photos from Ireland (with the added bonus of an assortment of Spain photos thrown in) click here: http://www.imagestation.com/album/pictures.html?id=2106804605
posted by Sean McMahon | 4:55 PM
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