If ever in need of recovering your Zen, or just finding it for the first time, Ireland will gladly supply you with at least a few months' worth of self-actualization.
Before going shopping for a new pencil case to lock myself up in the library this year, a last meander around the country of the leprechauns was on the agenda.
Somewhere in the middle
This time beginning in county Kerry. I hitched a ride with a lovely couple 'in favour of random acts of kindness' from the airport to Killarney, a small town at the top of the Ring of Kerry.
Killarney
Never have I ever in such quick succession met such warmth from strangers...with the exception of the tourist office several hours later. As I happily walked down from the bus station towards the National Forest, the men driving the horse carts all turned, grinning at me: "Hey, howarya", went the typical Irish nod of the head.
Arriving finally after snacking on some lemon puffs and a buttery english/british/irish/no difference scone at Ross Castle at the lakes, I had already found what I had been pining after. No pictures can capture the serenity of sitting at the edge of a pier watching the fishermen and the ducks putter around with misty hills in the background, but of course I tried.
Ross Castle
They're super serious
about their blarney
Soon enough I was on a bus to Limerick to meet up with Mari-Liis and Cathal. The following day we three set off on the inescapable journey nibbling on hot n spicy Monster Munch to find the gift of gab. Yes, you guessed it. And we did. We kissed that stone. And felt a bit sheepish after, too. Cathal noticed a quick difference in his wit, but we girls must have long ago reached our quota.
View from Bunratty
Next was Bunratty, after a good sausage breakfast. I still chuckle at the name, although at that time Cathal was getting a bit fed up by my slandering Irish jokes (can't help it, it's in me blood).
Mari-Liis and I cautiously peered into the homes of the preserved village, avoided some of the farm animals, and sat in the wooden desks in the two room schoolhouse before treading up the narrow, white-washed, circular staircase up the castle.
Waiting for my subjects, or a hog feast. Whichever.
At Bunratty, the Irish capitalize on their medieval history by reliving it. Hog dinners on steaming platters amidst vegetables and potatoes (won't include obvious joke here..) are brought out for nightly feasts in the dining hall where you're invited to come dressed like a princess (or knight). After gasping at the horror of blacksmith and farmer accommodation in the village, the four poster beds and pillowed window seats in the castle seemed pure luxury, even in the small stone rooms. I whispered to Mari-Liis, 'Now I could have lived here,' to which she rolled her eyes.
Then on the road again, this time munching salt and vinegar chipsticks.
If ever in need of recovering your Zen, or just finding it for the first time, Ireland will gladly supply you with at least a few months' worth of self-actualization.
Soon enough I was on a bus to Limerick to meet up with Mari-Liis and Cathal. The following day we three set off on the inescapable journey nibbling on hot n spicy Monster Munch to find the gift of gab. Yes, you guessed it. And we did. We kissed that stone. And felt a bit sheepish after, too. Cathal noticed a quick difference in his wit, but we girls must have long ago reached our quota.
Next was Bunratty, after a good sausage breakfast. I still chuckle at the name, although at that time Cathal was getting a bit fed up by my slandering Irish jokes (can't help it, it's in me blood).
At Bunratty, the Irish capitalize on their medieval history by reliving it. Hog dinners on steaming platters amidst vegetables and potatoes (won't include obvious joke here..) are brought out for nightly feasts in the dining hall where you're invited to come dressed like a princess (or knight). After gasping at the horror of blacksmith and farmer accommodation in the village, the four poster beds and pillowed window seats in the castle seemed pure luxury, even in the small stone rooms. I whispered to Mari-Liis, 'Now I could have lived here,' to which she rolled her eyes.
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