Hot diggty dog… I’m home!
It was wonderful trip to Ireland. But then again, I think you’d have to really try hard not to have a wonderful trip to Ireland. Just sayin’…
And miracle of miracles, the weather the last six days of my stay was spectacularicious! Blue skies, sunshine, mild temps… The kind of weather that you always dream about when visiting Ireland but know you’ll never, ever get. Ever.
The kind of weather that sends the “Visit Ireland” photographers frantically running around the country as fast as they can go to take breathtaking photos of a stunning land of azure skies, white sheep in emerald green pastures, dramatic ocean cliffs, ancient ruins and bright sunshine before the normal weather returns. And it always does return.
Rain, mist, wind, coolish temps. That’s the norm. But in my seven trips to Ireland, I’ve learned the weather is just secondary to the “Irish experience”. Yes – I said seven trips.
Don’t judge me.
On this trip, I stayed with a lovely Irish family in County Waterford for nearly a week. I mean, after that many visits, AGMA’s managed to make a friend or two. Clearly their character judgement is suspect…
This was an eye-opening experience. Just like you never know a friend until you travel with them (trust me, I have personal experience with this… ), you never really know a country until you’ve lived in a home with a family for a week.
I’m very jealous of my Irish friends. Because they’re Irish.
There are 4.6 million people living in Ireland. And there are over 35 million people around the world who can claim Irish heritage. Despite their prolific reproductive abilities, I am not one of them.
I hate that.
Thanks (or no thanks) to my husband who’s into genealogy research, I was in my 40’s when I found out that my Irish great great grandfather was actually German. Crap. It was a sad day when I had to put away my “Kiss Me I’m Irish Button”. I blame my husband every St. Patrick’s day when I feel like a sham and a wannabe wearing my green “Guinness Is Good For You” shirt.
It’s just all so humiliating…
However I feel strongly that I may have been Celtic Irish chieftain in a past life. Possibly a High King. I’ve absolutely nothing to base that on other than I feel I have to come up with some explanation as to why I keep going back to Ireland. The “I love to drink fresh Guinness” excuse is getting pretty thin. Being Túathal Máelgarb in a former life just makes so much more sense.
So stay tuned for AGMA’s Irish travel blog post, “How I lived with an Irish family for a week and they survived” in a few days.
‘Cause it ain’t easy having a crazy AGMA living with you.
So happy to be back on WordPress!