"It's a Good Day for a Guinness"

"It's a Good Day for a Guinness"
Originally uploaded by elsamart

I never did get all my photos up from our quick sojourn to Ireland the first week of October. You saw me put up videos previously on this blog and my youtube channel. The trip was quiet, beautiful weather (sun!) and uneventful but just fine.


Click on slideshow below for more pictures - -

Ireland 2010

More Ireland Videos

Medieval Town of Carlingford - P actually admitted if we moved back to Northern Ireland that he'd prefer to live here than in County Down (!) Shocker to me...



Visiting the famous 3000BC (that is before the Pyramids, ya'll...) prehistoric burial chamber (not good for those of us who get a little claustrophobic - -




walking around a lovely, sunny day in Dublin - -

Ireland Summer 2009

Yes, I am back-logged - - or shall I say 'back-blogged' on here. We've been having technical difficulties at home and very busy so I am barely getting up my Ireland 2009 pics (and more) on here!

Ireland this year was vastly different than my first trip there in May of 2007. This time around, we had P's daughter Ciara with us which kept us home-bound a lot more than our last trip (see previous blogs by scrolling through year 2007). Also, the 2 biggest reasons for this trip was 1). to visit and spend time with Patrick's aging 84 year-old mum and 2) to have a small Catholic Wedding blessing ceremony there that his parents could partake in as Patrick's mom won't be able to travel to the USA for our bigger ceremony later this year. Of course it was the wettest summer in decades. So wet that Patrick's folks commented that even Father (the priest) was in a grumpy and blue mood due to all the rain.

Finally, I had sprained my back badly the week before at work and was in intense pain - the flight over almost killed me sitting cramped up for hours. So, I was the entire time doped up on muscle relaxers and painkillers - not that it stopped me from doing any activity when possible(!)

Thus we spent the majority of time at their beautiful home in Warrenpoint, shooting photography and taking long, long serene walks around town, through P's old neighborhoods and where he road his Arabian pony. I loved the stories as I am an avid story-listener as much as a story-teller myself :)
Ciara had more of a blast than any of us. She goes every year there and is a superstar of sorts, being from America. She commented to me, "it's the few times she is really the coolest kid there" - as the children are enamoured of her accent, clothes, her dancing, etc etc. Also, it is relatively safe there so she can just go out and play in the park and walk into the town for an ice cream with the kids until dark - sadly, she can't do that here in San Diego. It's wonderful to see her enjoy her freedom and independence there.

Lastly I wish to point out for my family that it was hard not having them present for the Catholic Blessing - - although I am very grateful to have done it there for P's mother. She held my hand through the prayers and I felt (of COURSE) the tears of happiness and gratefulness welling up in my big eyes and then plop! fall down onto my silk skirt. After all was done she waved my hand in hers, scolding me in her brogue, "You're a big Softie, Elsa -- that's what you are!"

Click below on the slideshow for more!

Ireland09

Ireland - more Day 7 and Day 8 - Dublin

Finally it was time to move on and we continued south to the capital city of the Republic - Dublin. After having spent my entire trip in nature, coastlines, fields, and seeing so much green green green - I really had to switch gears upon entering the city and hitting the modern and inconvenience of... traffic. Dublin was full of people - tourists, students, immigrants from all over - it was bustling with activity. I liked it, though. Not as much as our days, drives and hikes through Nature, but it was a welcome change.

Since I had planned and organized everything for our trip to Peru last October, and this is P's native country, after all, I had left all planning to him. Of course, he didn't book a hotel. We were not sure where we were going or what we were doing most of the time so we ended up really walking around a lot. We didn't go in anything, but I could see there was definitely some fun window shopping and I enjoyed the people-watching, that can be sure! It was extremely expensive and a lunch of a personal pizza and spaghetti (without even any bread)and 1 coke set us back more than $50 - YIKES! But what can you do?

As I previously mentioned, brilliantly, Patrick hadn't booked a hotel for us - and we realized walking around and inquiring on a Friday late afternoon was becoming ludicrous since everything was booked and the few things vacant were ridiculously expensive. We were starting to really tire and got caught in the rain when finally we saw a tourist center. We dashed in and grabbed the next ticket to be called - the place was closing in 10 minutes and we were fearful they would turn us away. I prayed as I watched the light board ticker count the numbers towards ours as one by one people were called up to get help. At the last minute it called our number - what a relief! A nice Spanish girl helped us inquire into hotels at about the rate of 100 euro. She knew it was last minute and we didn't quote her a great rate so she politely looked at her computer with an air of resigned helplessness. Suddenly she found one but it wasn't in the city center where we wanted to be - we didn't really want to deal with expensive cabs, traffic or walking too far late at night - when it might not be safe. P asked her if she had even heard of the place to which she replied, "No..".

What else could we do? We accepted it and she called the hotel to confirm for us and then ran the credit card for the deposit. After showing us on a city map of where it was, we set off. By this time we had been walking for a couple hours, were tired, looked pretty bad, wet, stringy hair, I was lugging my Peru hiking backpack with both our clothes and necessities as P had his special, but heavy, camera bag with his professional lenses. Let's just say we weren't looking that posh or polished. Or like we had any money whatsoever.

We finally found the hotel, the Premiere Suites, and went inside to find that it was extremely posh with metrosexual furniture and red mood lighting that I love - I mean, it looked like a "W" hotel! I couldn't believe it! We weren't expecting that at all and I must admit I felt extremely unattractive and unkempt next to the coiffed blonde, middle-aged woman with nice perfume who checked in before us with her Louis Vuitton luggage. We looked like backpackers in wet jeans and sneakers! A very nice African man checked us in as I looked around admiring the place. I saw him type in the computer and a shadow cross his face. "Oh,no!" my heart sunk as I saw it. I thought there was some mistake and we weren't staying there after all!! I mentioned before anything, "We just had the girl at the tourist center call you about a half hour ago and we ran the credit card for a deposit so there shouldn't be a problem." He then commented, "You wanted a double bed and I mistakenly put you down for 2 twin beds..." Now, evidently at this point P was so distracted by the metro sexual furniture or so tired that he didn't really understand what was going on. The receptionist continued, "Would you want the 2 twin beds?" - Again, I must point out that P, for whatever reason, didn't seem to understand what was going on and he just shook his head stating, "No, we want a single queen." Now, I at the same precise moment was opening my mouth (because I was so tired and didn't want to cause trouble NOR try to look for another place to stay) to say, "That is fine, we will take the twin beds.." but as I mentioned above P beat me to it and the man then continued on to say, "Well, I have no single queen bed rooms vacant, so I will just have to upgrade you for free" (P later said he still didn't get what was happening, but I was holding my breath when I heard the word 'upgrade') "to the......Penthouse Suite."

??!*&%$!!! Jumping Jehoshaphat! My heart leaped as I kicked P ecstatically under the desk out of sight. We got the Penthouse Suite at the top of the hotel for the rate of 100 euros!! It easily would have been 3 times as much!! I couldn't believe our luck! He asked if we needed help with our luggage - HA ! We had backpacks!! In the elevator we pressed the special button reserved for penthouse guests. Hilarious! P said as we rose, "I didn't get what was happening..." "I know!!" I replied gleefully. We walked into our suites and I was so excited by the metrosexual, minimalist interior design and decor that I started snapping pictures. Now, I must admit, that a penthouse in the USA would have even more bang but this was absolutely amazing to us when it was so unexpected and so lucky that we fell into it! It even had a kitchen, 2 flatscreen TVs, a rooftop patio and a wonderful hot bath that I promptly indulged in. After relaxing a bit, eating the cookies left for us and watching some TV we left the hotel to go on the Literary Pub Crawl. Well, doesn't that make us sound both refined and touristy all at once? hehehe. It is a pub crawl visiting the bars that were frequented by the famous Irish writers: Yeats, Shaw, Beckett, Joyce and Swift (that is all I can remember anyway). We arrived at the bar The Duke for the the beginning of the crawl. Crammed into a smaller backroom, we paid our entry and everyone got their drinks and watched as 2 professional actors (a man and a woman) welcomed us with some witty lines, an overview of the evening to come, a famous Irish drinking song (we all heartily joined in the chorus with my classically-trained voice leading the way) and then enjoyed a few minutes of playwright Samuel Beckett's fabulously absurd, "Waiting for Godot".

We were informed that we would be attending 4 different pubs (where each time we'd grab a drink for about a half hour before moving on). But we also learned that some of the skits and performances and history would also be given outside in stops between the pubs (for example: Trinity College). Okay, my native San Diegan warm blood aside: it was a FREEZING night - with major icy winds and some rain - as a matter of fact - the hotel people as well as the actors commented it was unusually cold and windy for Dublin. Well, let me tell you: it was BLOODY cold!!! We only had jeans and a lighter jacket, others had coats, hats, scarves, gloves and umbrellas. I actually HAD to drink to get buzzed so I wouldn't feel my pain!! By the time we hit about 1.5 hours it was pretty miserable - but the 2 actors were wonderfully talented and I truly enjoyed their performances and told P how I felt their pain - struggling for work and having to take a job like this - performing for drunk tourists (albeit an older, more intelligent crowd), straining their voices in the cold night air and noisy bars - I really felt for my fellow thespians and the sacrifices we must do for our art. (Was that dramatic enough for you???)

We met up at the last bar of the crawl with some lovely bright young American (from Washington DC) women in their late 20s whom we invited to join us at our next bar since P knew which bars to go to. After talking a lot to them about being liberal (ha ha P), the worry of teens today in America, acting, their jobs as journalists and our travels, one of them finally felt comfortable enough to point out, "I noticed you 2 right away at The Duke." "Really?" I felt flattered, "Was it because I was laughing and applauding so loudly for the actors?" "No..." she answered, "It was because you were the only one not drinking a pint!" I looked down at my pitiful vodka and orange juice - "I don't drink beer," I replied suddenly un poco self-conscious. As a matter of fact, it took me 6 drinks (a record for me) the whole evening to get a buzz - 6 drinks for a lightweight like me is insane! I should have been pulled off the floor and dumped into an ambulance for that many drinks!!! But in Ireland those stingy bastards measure out the smallest shot of hard liquor in their drinks for the few of us who don't drink beer that I felt nothing for so long. AND those weak, wimpy drinks, by the way, STILL ran us about $10 each!! Holy Frijoles!!

I must admit that by the end of the night I felt a little loopy and we said our goodbyes as the pubs close at 11:30 or so - a HUGE surprise to me! I never would have expected that. P was in a rush to get back to the hotel - not only for the freezing wind but as he warned, "In a few minutes hundreds of people will be spilling out of the pubs, drunk, and with nothing better to do than to pick a fight." "Let them try.." I giggled dizzily making fists and 'putting up my dukes'. Thus back to our penthouse with a quick stop for some late night snacks and some TV before hitting the hay exhausted.

The next day we stopped at a bagle bar another overpriced breakfast served by some nice Polish girls. Them we bought tickets for the uber-touristy double decker bus. With 21 stops (we only did about half) our driver was very funny and it is a great way to hear the history of the city and certain buildings and areas. One can get off at any stop for another bus will come along every few minutes. Time was running out on us (and thank GOD P had previously been to the Guinness Brewery so we didn't have to go - besides the line was huge). We got off and walked through Temple Bar - pity we didn't get to go to the bars in that area the previous night. We saw a couple bachelor parties going from pub to pub with the lucky man wearing a dress and freezing his arse off. (By the way - these were starting as early as 11am or so and would go on drinking the rest of the day). Since we were not going to be drinking anymore or shopping and we were leaving back the USA early the next morning we went back to the car and drove back north to County Down for our last dinner and tea before heading out the next morning to the airport.

And with this last Quote I finish narrating my first of many trips to Ireland :)

From Brandon (The Protestant), a drinking buddy of Patrick's dad:
"Have you had a Guinness yet, Elsa?" he inquired my 2nd day over lunch.
"I actually don't plan on having any. I don't like beer," I replied as
politely as possible.
"Guinness..." he breathed in, replying slowly so that I coudl really be affected, "is not a beer..."

Click on slideshow below:

Ireland - Day 8 - Dublin

Ireland - Day 7 - Newgrange, Knowth

Alas, on Day 6, we meant to drive up north to the Giant's Causeway - but were rather tired of being stuck in a car. So we opted to stay at home in Warrenpoint with Patrick's mother (I am sure she appreciated seeing more of us anyway). It was a relaxing, nice day.

Friday, Day 7, we set out on the road, newly refreshed, to visit the World Heritage Sites of Newgrange and Knowth in County Meath. We spent a couple hours first looking at the well-done museum, and then finally boarding shuttle buses that took us to the 2 different sites. These are stone-age passage tombs that are about 500 years older than the Pyramids (!). They are both big circular mounds of earth and stone. We first went to the smaller Knowth. The mound of earth was encircled by faint carved stones of varying designs. Amazingly, those stones contain one-fourth of all known megalithic art in Europe! With 2 passages facing the east and west for lunar reasons, many of the artwork on the 127 stones could represent lunar counts and calculations. Surrounding Knowth were 18 smaller satellite mounds. Unlike Newgrange which is larger, and we were allowed to go inside - I preferred Knowth for it's quantity of art.

After an informative guided tour and free time to walk around (even on top of the mound!) and explore we all headed back on a shuttle bus to take us to nearby Newgrange. One of the world's most famous ancient monuments (built around 3150 BC)it also has the engraved stones (97 compared to 127 at Knowth). Legend says that the foundations of Christianity were laid here.

Its major attraction is that on the Winter Solstice, the light of the rising sun enters the roofbox and penetrates the passage, shining onto the floor of the inner chamber. The sunbeam illuminates the chamber for just 17 minutes. They actually have a drawing in the Visitor Centre for this - and we promptly dropped our names in. They only allow 100 people a year over the course of 5 days to enter the very narrow passage and see it. Did I mention 'narrow'?? Our guide led us in groups of 16 inside - and warned us that those who are claustrophobic should stay at the back in case they need to head back out right away. I shot P an apprehensive look - I hate it but I do get claustrophobic at times. But being the BigShot I am, I led the group in right behind P and the guide - shoot, it got pitch dark instantly and the ceiling lowered as we squeezed through the narrowest part of the passage, I felt a surge of panic when I couldn't even see P right in front of me. But I continued on and it opened up to a SMALL, circular chamber where the guide explained how the Solstice worked by pressing a button that shown a light made to copy the real thing. It was very impressive - I am told - because I was behind a bunch of tall Germans and couldn't see the floor! It is amazing that with simple stone technology, these wonderful people captured a very significant astronomical and calendrical moment in a most spectacular way!

Click on Slideshow below

Ireland - Day 7 - Newgrange, Knowth

Ireland Day 4 - Aran Islands (Inis Mor)

After our lovely drive through the Midlands and the West, we finally arrived to the city of Rossaveal where a ferry makes several daily runs back and forth to the 3 Aran Islands that straddle the mouth of Galway Bay in the Atlantic Ocean. This was an incredible treat for both of us (Patrick had never been there yet either).

To give a little history and insight about this must-see attraction, the Aran Islands are pretty much made of limestone rock and form a natural break in the water. The largest of the 3, Inishmore, is the most tourist-oriented and was our destination. It is 9 miles long and 2 miles wide with a population of 800. These islands have, mind-boggling, been inhabited long before recorded history and still contain pre-Christian remains. Another very noteworthy fact is that the islanders speak Irish daily here - this is known as the Gaeltacht (although pretty much all inhabitants were bilingual English speakers as well). It is one of the last places in Ireland where the ancient Celtic language is preserved. As a matter of fact, the Government evidently subsidizes people to live there and to retain and teach the Irish language and traditions.

After a 40 minute ferry ride we docked at the Island's pier. The bad news was that it began to downpour on us. Our previous luck with the weather had run out. It was miserable, cold and wet. Of course, Patrick had scoffed at me packing a small umbrella stating that no one uses them in Ireland. Well, when we found out that we had a 20 minute walk to our B&B would you believe that P actually accepted that dumb umbrella of mine after all??? If that wasn't funny enough, it turned out the umbrella was on it's last leg and broke, blown inside out as P cowered under the pelting rain. ha ha ha!! I took out my camera to record but didn't get too far as my battery died :( See below

As we kept walking (and uphill) to our Bed & Breakfast hostel suddenly a car that drove past us, stopped. We ran forward and jumped in. A kind but sweaty bohemian-type woman about my age coming back from yoga took pity on us in all that rain and drove us the rest of the way to our hostel. So kind. I had never hitched a ride with a stranger before :) Our B&B, the Mainistir House, was economy budget, but colorful with pink, lavender and teal painted walls. Dripping wet, we checked in at the front desk with the owner and supposedly creative and imaginative chef, Joel - a gay Frenchman of African descent.

Well, if one knows me or reads my blogs they know I get along with and enjoy gay men's company. And they 99% of the time adore me. But not bitchy queens. Joel was just that. Bitter and bitchy, he didn't greet us, but took our money and told us where our room upstairs was with a most disinterested air and turned up his nose, not wanting to be of any help, when we asked questions such as what pub plays traditional Irish music at night. We finally retired to our room where we were elated just to get out of our wet clothes. Upon that I commented to P, "Did you notice how bitchy the owner was??" He agreed that had I been perhaps more cleaned up, I would have gotten my usual reaction from a gay man. Our mood was not enhanced by the continuous pouring rain. Patrick, especially was quite broken up about it stating that is was the worst day of our trip to rain so - because the Islands are meant to be walked and cycled outdoors - they aren't as up-to-date on modern conveniences so there was nothing to do BUT be outdoors. I pleaded with him to keep a positive outlook that hopefully it wouldn't rain the next day, but our night was definitely ruined. We didn't dare step outside in that black rain. There was nothing else to do but go to bed - at 8pm. The next morning, still jet lagged, we awoke very early - before anyone else in the hostel and on the entire Island for that matter. But the good news: it stopped raining! Knowing it could start again at any moment, P rushed me grabbing his camera. Now that we could actually see things and we loved it! The Island was full of small fields separating each other by stone fences called "Famine Walls". These essentially were limestone rocks piled on top of each other during the years of the Great Potato Famine as labour so to earn money for food by the government. The Island was completely delineated by these rock walls. I gazed at them thinking of the hard, physical labour from starving, weak hands and bodies that made these walls many years ago. It was very humbling.

Within these rock-walled properties would usually be some old, abandoned, rotting shelter alongside a newer, more modern one (undoubtedly helped paid for by the Government subsidizing). I mean, the Island is wild, windy and beautiful in it's bleakness, but who would voluntarily live there? - we pondered. Evidently it has long attracted artists, writers, filmmakers, philologists and antiquarians. And that was evident in the artist colonies and shops that we walked past that early morning just past dawn. Interesting to note: we saw no sheep on the island - just cows and horses in the pastures. I point this out because a huge tradition from the island is the Aran Sweater - a traditional sweater knitted from sheared sheep wool and then dyed. First used long ago by the island fisherman, the sweater is made up of different stitches which each family had to represent their own individual sweater.

After a medium walk and P taking tons of early morning pictures, our rumbling stomachs made us return to the hostel. Upon entering we were hot and thirsty and there was a large sign clearly stating, "Free cold drinks" with some arrows pointing to the dining area. We definitely were up for that and I saw Joel at the front desk scribbling on some paper. I approached but patiently waited for him to finish writing. That said, he made me wait a LONG time - to the point that it was awkward. He obviously didn't want to deal with us and seemed clearly irritate by our presence. In fact he never looked up, said good morning or anything outside of raising one eye to look NOT at me but at the small sign next to me that said, "Reception hours 9am - 9pm." It was about 8:30am and he was making it quite clear that he did NOT have to help me with anything at the current time. He even left his post without saying a word and I followed him, slightly annoyed myself at this point, "Your sign says, 'cold drinks'.." I started only to be rudely cut off with a queeny roll of the eyes and muttered, "No!" We couldn't believe his rudeness and vowed to never recommend anyone to his B&B ever. Gay snap to that!!

After a bland but free breakfast with a bunch of noisy French families who kept stealing our toasts in the toaster - we left again this time to rent bikes at the pier. This is the major tourist thing to do. I love riding bikes and rarely do so - although some of the hills proved to be a little tough for my old man. We set off on the small road that goes around the entire island and stopped off at places, buildings or ruins of interest. The island was definitely beautiful - very different than all the other more modern places on the mainland. But I wouldn't stay for more than a day and a half there. One doesn't need to. Within a few hours we had biked to everything worth seeing and had leisurely taken our pictures. It was fun and definitely worth the hard work when we had the ascents to peddle or walk our bikes up. Inis Mor has 4 perfectly preserved Celtic stone forts. My favorite was the spectacular triple-walled fort of Dun Aengus. It is supposedly one of Europe's finest prehistoric monuments dating somweher between 4000 and 1000 BC. (CHEEENGADOOOOOHH that is a long time ago!!!) Sitting on the edge of a 200 foot terrifying cliff that drops into a turbulent but gorgeous sea crashing against the rocks far below - the fort was breath-taking! I am not good around heights and it amazed me that they don't put up some sort of barrier to stop people from slipping to their deaths! Even Patrick was somewhat nervous sitting on the edge of the cliff. I mustered up the courage to get on my knees and peek over the ledge to snap a picture of the crashing Atlantic far below. YIKES!

Alas, our long day came to a close with a stop at the pub for P's pint and the last ferry back to the mainland. Click on slideshow below!

Ireland - Day 3 - Aran Island

A Couple of Irish Asses

If you read the Ireland Day 3 blog, you read about the donkeys who, after being pet and photographed, followed us into our car! I pushed them out, took my seat and they still stuck their heads in my window to seek out goodies! They charmed the pants off me! :)

80s Song of the Week - U2 "Bloody Sunday"

I've been lagging on updating my 80s Song of the Week blogs. For those who know me or have been reading my blogs, they know I love my 80s New Wave music. Well, I'm back!

When I was a teen and this song came out I always really liked it. It was back when mega-group U2 was young and raw, their music not slick and overproduced like nowadays (don't get me wrong, I still like and appreciate them). But I could feel that it was bigger than just a pop tune by its lyrics and militia-like drum rhythms and guitar riffs. But I must admit that I did not really understand what "Bloody Sunday" was. (How could anyone unless they had a specific connection to the horror of it??)

I believe we skimmed over it in a paragraph in World History in high school, but it was not until my 20s that I looked more into it. And when I started dating Patrick he showed me the movie portraying the senseless tragedy in Derry of 14 civilian deaths during a peaceful, unarmed civil rights march on January 30, 1972 - 4 months before I was born.

I think the Irish band U2, along with this particular song and video featuring parts of the movie are absolutely appropriate in my having returned from a wonderful and fascinating trip to both Occupied Ireland and the Republic. Things have come far it seems with the demilitarization of the border and absence of the British Army, but, as P's father mentioned, someone stole a car and set it on fire behind the Catholic church in their town the night before our arrival. Coincidence? An accident?

Ireland - Day 3 - The Far West, Connemara

"Go West, young man!" goes the saying...

The next morning we awoke early and left to head towards the opposite coast in the west of Ireland and then head south in a scenic coastal drive. Once again, we were lucky in regards to weather. It was a crisp, brisk, but sunny day! Perfect for a lovely drive through, arguably, some of the prettiest part of Ireland.

It was a splendid time (excepting the extremely expensive gas). With map in hand I helped guide P through the main highways and country roads that twist and turn - making a few miles seem greater because of the time it takes to drive it.

Patrick and I both agreed that even though it is beautiful in the northeastern sea coast where he is from, that we both preferred the more rustic, wild and unkempt beauty of the Far West. There still were fields, but it was all much different. They were larger but more sparse - mostly as part of a ranch - and filled with sheep or cows. There were also hillsides here that were different, trees were scarce and vegetation was different than the north - with massive plants of rhubarb growing as tall as me right along the roads.

As we headed towards Connemara things got even more barren. Evidently, many natives here left to London and Boston, USA as it is very poor and hard to eke out a living. Land here is made up of many lakes of all sizes, marshland and mountains in the distance. There are no green, lush fields with grazing livestock here - but, rather, fields of peat - which is the earth cut into rectangles and used to burn when cold. Please forgive that we jumped out and gathered 2 blocks of it for P's parents as they love to burn it as firewood in the winter as it emits a pleasant, earthy smell.

** NOTE - I highly recommend the excellent and tragic period Irish film, "The Field" - which took place in this country and was filmed here.**

We soon found ourselves on an incredible, scenic drive along the coast that led to a main village (I believe it was Roundstone) in the middle of all that barren nothingness. This was such a pleasant surprise as we first saw an outstanding beach with white sands and turquoise waters lapping at its shore. I was shocked to see it - it looked like it was the Caribbean! We quickly stopped the car to gaze at the view of the beach, and then my attention was turned to a field with 2 Connemara ponies - I was a major equestrian as a child and teen, and knew all about all the different breeds of horses but had never seen a Connemara pony in real life. As if things couldn't get even more pleasant for me, suddenly 2 donkeys came down the road towards us! They obviously knew tourists - and were not shy!! I was able to pet them to my hearts delight. After snapping a few photos we headed back to the car and would you believe they came with us and stuck their cute heads into the car???!! As in the door of the car! I thought they were actually going to climb into my passenger seat! We laughed so hard and I, ingeniously, remembered my digital camera can record a little bit - so I filmed them and as soon as I can figure out how to upload them onto UTube, you can bet they will be published on this blog! We were unable to contain our laughter and smiles after this so we decided to stop for lunch at a very quaint pub. Of course, P got to have his Guinness. This pub had loads of character and we imagined was full of locals mixing with any tourists in the evenings. But right now, it was empty save one loan native dressed smartly in a pant suit and jacket, with his wavy, dirty-blond hair combed back. He stood at the bar, speaking with the bartender while traditional Irish music played semi-loudly in the background. At one point I excused myself to the ladies' room and evidently the man turned to Patrick and asked him pointedly in a thick, country accent, "Dew yew like this music?"

To which Patrick replied, "Yes, I do..."

Which made the man grin - exposing a mouthful of rotting, brown or missing teeth - "I feckin' LOVE it!!!" he retorted back enthusiastically.

Such an amusing and candid exchange could only happen in such an out-of-the-way local pub. By the time I had returned, P was still chuckling and recounted me the story. The man turned towards me - not quite making eye contact - I noticed most men didn't do this in smaller towns, but he started dancing an Irish jig. Just perfect!!
Click on slideshow below!

Ireland Day 3

Elsa's Top 5 Ireland List

Alas, my beau Patrick and I returned safely from our sojourn to his native Ireland! It was lovely to be able to see where he grew up and meet his parents there. But before I detail our trip I have to state my Top 5 Things I Will Forever Think of When I Think of Ireland:

1). It's really GREEN. I know that everyone knows that Ireland is green. But I've traveled to 3 different continents now, and I've never seen any land so lush and green. Of course, we also went during the spring so it was extra lovely this time of year, but I must admit it's even greener than I anticipated.

2). FIELDS. Ireland is FULL of fields. Everyone owns a field. Families pass fields down generation to generation. I think that if you do not have a field in Ireland, you must be poor. But thatcan't be true, because even the poor have their fields. It's a way to make a living there,keep livestock or have as property to build your house upon. Fields are worth their weight in gold there.
3). COWS. Ha ha I threw you all off with that one, didn't I? One would think I'd say 'sheep', but after driving across the country I can honestly say I saw more cows grazing in the fields than sheep.

4). ROSY CHEEKS. Everyone is Ireland has the cutest pink-flushed cheeks! Young and old, male or female. I guess it must be due to that biting wind there, but my Paddy doesn't have it :(

5). PADDY's ACCENT - Ha ha - I LOVED this one! Patrick uses an American accent in the States since he doesn't like the attention he gets having an accent. (Well, he does admit to using it in his young 20s to get some girls here). That said, being the Europhile-accent-loving gal that I am: I have pleaded to hear his Irish brogue for over a year now but there was no hiding it in his homeland where it came out unchecked. *sigh* I listened and imitated it to my hearts delight!! :)

For those of you disappointed (and shocked) that I didn't mention the national beverage of choice, "Guinness" beer: well, I personally hate beer and this trip was more about seeing the culture and nature than going to Pubs. That said, I shall give it a honorable mention so as not to offend anyone. And even though I can't stomach the stuff I did pick up a swell logo t-shirt in duty-free!

Erin Go Bragh!!

Today I awoke from Patrick's call, "Top of the mornin' tew yew!" and off to Ireland we go!

It's Official...

Erin Go Braugh!
When I turned 30 I treated myself to my first trip abroad by meeting my ex boyfriend at his home in northern Italy. This May I am turning 35 and treating myself to a trip with Patrick to his home in northern Ireland... SO excited!! I hope it doesn't rain too much. I can't wait to see the gorgeous, lush countryside where he grew up riding his Arabian horse and being eye witness to historic IRA bombings in his youth. Wow. Only one question remains: "Will it be a nice day for a Guinness?"

Camels Gone Wild!!!!

As I previously mentioned, my handsome beau, Patrick, is in Ireland visiting family and friends for the holidays. It goes without saying that one of his daily things-to-do is go to the local pub and drink Guiness beer for a few hours while catching up with friends.

Now I know that Northern (occupied) Ireland where he is from is still segregated and sometimes still violent - so I admit I will feel much better when he is back home 'safe' with my crazy arse - heh heh heh. But that said, imagine my 'horror' that I have to worry about drunken morrocan camels breaking into pubs and guzzling Guiness - sheeit - even the CAMELS in Ireland have a drinking problem???!!!

And by the way: what the heck is a camel doing in Ireland??!!!

READ BELOW:

Guinness-guzzling camel crashes Irish party
Christmas comes early for ‘Gus’ after he chomped his way through beer cans

DUBLIN - Staff at an Irish riding school were forced to postpone festivities after Gus the camel chomped his way through 200 mince pies and several cans of Guinness intended for their Christmas party.

Gus, starring in the riding school’s Santa’s Magical Animal Kingdom show, helped himself to the feast while staff were getting changed for the party.

“Gus found his way out of his pen and helped himself,” Robert Fagan, owner of the Mullingar Equestrian Centre in central Ireland, told Reuters.

The 11-year-old camel, originally from Morocco, cracked open six cans of Ireland’s famous stout with his teeth after the door to his stall was left open.

Gus appeared well after Monday evening’s feeding frenzy, Fagan said, adding: “We were all looking forward to it, but you couldn’t blame him. He’s really a very gentle, docile sort of camel.”