Learning to Grow in Ireland

In a previous post I suggested I was made for London. But surely my soul belongs to Ireland. There is no doubt a magical tingling in those emerald mountains. Where London was busy, noisy and bustling with people, Ireland was quiet, serene and everyone moved at a more leisurely pace. It was the perfect ending to the trip.

What I loved about Ireland:  The scenery. It’s stunning! While winding up one of the mountains, I came across a house nestled in a valley of bright green sheep pastures. Sheep dotted the mountain, and this cottage overlooked a small harbor on the Atlantic Ocean. What else could you want?

What surprised me about the Ireland: There were SO many American tourists! I ached to hear a native Irish accent and instead I was surrounded by folks from California, Virginia and Ohio. Also, the roads are so narrow and winding my children got car sick. I mean real car sick.

What I’ll remember most: Surfing at Inch Beach, Kerry Co., Ireland. Click here to read the entire tale. My family also had the pleasure to watch an entire sailing fleet leave a harbor. I pray little Sean didn’t tip his boat. The poor child was determined to make his first sailing lesson work.

What I ate: I had to have Irish stew in an Irish pub. The pub atmosphere was just like I imagined, dark and gloomy. Unfortunately, our waitress was also a little gloomy, which made the stew hard to swallow. But I tried not to let her ruin my Irish fairytale. Ireland also has an incredible variety of root vegetables.

What I missed from home: My writing journals. Ireland is begging to be written into poetry. I wrote lines on napkins, receipts and even on the back of my daughter’s homework.

Turning sliver out of dark grasses
Where the skylark had lain,
And her voice coming softly over the meadow
Was the mist becoming rain

– Austin Clarke, “The Lost Heifer”

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