Photos of Kerry and Bunratty Castle

McGillicuddy Reeks, County Kerry

Looking back toward Kenmare, County Kerry

Strawberry Fields Dutch Pancake House, just outside Kenmare, County Kerry

Wood stove at Strawberry Fields Pancake House

Caoilte at Strawberry Fields

Caoilte at Strawberry Fields

Nom nom nom!

My pancake - met ham, kaas, tomaten en prei.  Lekker!

Caoilte's pancake, met appels, suiker en kaneel

My favourite tree (Killarney National Park)

Tree in Killarney National Park

My favourite tree

My favourite tree

Yes, I really love trees

Killarney National Park

Killarney National park

Caoilte at Bunratty's drawbridge

The bar in Bunratty Castle (Shannon)

The great room in Bunratty Castle (Shannon)

One of the rooms in Bunratty Castle

View of the river Shannon from a turret of Bunratty Castle

View of the Shannon from a turret of Bunratty Castle

One of the rooms of Bunratty Castle

Strawberry Fields, the Dutch pancake house in Kenmare

A tree in Killarney National Forest

Killarney National Park

On the road between Kenmare and Killarney

Caoilte at Killarney National Park

Killarney National Park

Torc Waterfall at Killarney National Park

Killarney National Park

Killarney National Park

Killarney National Park

Killarney National Park

Caoilte at Killarney National Park

Killarney National Park

Killarney National Park

Killarney National Park

The Gap of Dunloe

Killarney National Park

The Gap of Dunloe

The Gap of Dunloe

The Gap of Dunloe

The Gap of Dunloe

The Gap of Dunloe

The Gap of Dunloe

I'm in love with a violinist.

I decided last night to stay in Limerick for the weekend.  We can't do any house hunting until Monday anyway, and I really didn't fancy a five hour drive to Leitrim, so despite knowing Limerick by it's more common name, 'stab city,' I made a reservation at Patrick Punch's Hotel, just outside the town centre.  Well, why not!

We arrived in Limerick around 1430, and when I realised how close it is to Bunratty, I simply had to make a detour to see Bunratty Castle.

Bunratty Castle rises from the verdant county Clare countryside as imposing as any keep I've seen, tall and light-bricked and perfectly square, crisp corners stretching to blocked  towers on all four sides.  Very impressive.  The castle also puts on medieval banquets, one of which was scheduled for 1730, so I bought tickets.  Touring the castle just after 1500 we could smell dinner cooking, so we walked around with rumbling tummies and watering mouths until 1715, when it was time to show up at the drawbridge.  Those of you who know me will be shocked to know I wasn't late, no siree!  The whole thing kicked off with a reception in the grand hall replete with Bunratty honey mead, and after finishing my cup I was really looking forward to having some more at dinner.  In the centre of the grand hall was a harpist, a really exceptional harpist, and I was mesmerised by the gentle, quick movements of her fingers on the strings, the rapid adjustments she made to the tuning pins between string plucks, and the perfectly serene look on her face as she played.  I was also fascinated by the playing position of the harp - she pulled it between her legs and rested it against her breast and I couldn't help but see it as both instrument and lover.  It sang to her and through her.

So I was all caught up in the harpist when the violinist appeared, a mop of dark hair, broad smile and shoulders, and tantalisingly muscular thighs wrapped in 80-denier or so black tights.  For the next 20 minutes I don't think I moved.  The music continued through all four removes of the banquet, where to my disappointment the mead on offer at the reception was replaced by white and red wine, but I was fairly delighted to find the violinist playing at the head of the table at which Caoilte and I were sat.  When the banquet was over we left through the gift shop, where we bought a couple of bottles of mead and a CD of the evening's music.  I listened to it all the way to the hotel.
                          Well, mostly just to the violin.

The Irish Rental Car Fiasco

The thing about the Irish that I've discovered is the most difficult to deal with is the fact that so many of them can lie to you with a perfectly sincere and innocent smile.  I realise that there are certain things that put me at a disadvantage; for example, my American accent, the fact that I clearly don't come to Ireland the way my grandfather left it (poor), but that ability to distract you with a wink and a smile while digging into your pocket with all the stealth of a half-starved mosquito is shocking.  It's like they can smell an opportunity as soon as it lands in Dublin.

I arrived in Ireland on Saturday with a rental car already booked.  €108 a week was the rate, and I'd declined the extra (it said optional) insurance to keep the rate as low as possible.  I knew they would hit me with CDW (collision damage waiver), but it's not as if this was the first time I'd rented a car in Dublin and I was prepared to wind up paying a bit more.  "A bit" in Ireland, when you're an American on the paying side of a transaction, is a quantity that is never fixed, but fluctuates depending on how much money the person on the beneficiary side of the transaction thinks is in your wallet and how easily they think you can be parted with it.  It's one of the only things about living here that really irritates me, and I've come to think the Irish view it as a game. 

So I arrived at the rental desk with my Irish debit card in hand and, as the counter agent rang up the charges (14 days to be paid in advance, of course), I nearly had a stroke when she pronounced the total to be €982.  It's not easy to render me speechless, but I was quite literally at a loss for words.  I was exhausted and still coming down from the in-flight valium, and I had sent my two cats ahead on Thursday's Aer Lingus flight and I needed to get to the quarantine facility at Lissenhall to get them, so I was scraping the bottom of the barrel for motivation to argue...and she knew it.  My limp protests fell on deaf ears.  The Irish can, indeed, see us coming, my friends. 

I stuck it back to Europcar the only way I knew how.  On day four I went to Dublin, bought a 2000 Saab 9-3 convertible, returned the car to the airport rental counter and couldn't help smiling as the agent refunded me €672. 

It would have been much more pleasurable (for me) if she'd been Irish.

Out and about in Wexford and Waterford

I spent quite a lot of time researching whether there were parts of Ireland outside County Donegal that might be better to live in, and I came to the conclusion that perhaps County Wexford might offer more job prospects, or at least commuting access to Dublin, Wexford town, and New Ross, where there might be further job prospects.  The idea was that if I could get a job in Ireland, then Milo could eventually stop these deployments and we could spend a happy existence together in Ireland with at least one of us employed.

Caoilte and I spent a few days in Wexford when we arrived on Saturday.  We stayed in the small village of Curracloe, a beautiful little place on the coast.  The holiday cottage was not so nice, it was old and kind of dirty, but we spent much of our time out exploring the area so we really only used is as a place to sleep.  During our forays we discovered that Wexford, while sunny and pretty, is really not a terribly interesting spot, and probably not somewhere we'd particularly want to settle.

The gems of the region were Wexford town and New Ross, both on the water, both beautiful and interesting, both nice places.  A bit further west, however, we discovered Waterford, with its bustling city centre, interesting shops, and beautiful waterfront.  It reminded us of Roermond, or Heerlen (Netherlands) with its central shopping plaza and selection of shops, cafes and restaurants, and we were mightily impressed.  Caoilte and I had dinner in the Munster Bar, which served excellent (but quite pricey) food.  It's just up a small alley by the waterfront, down from the clock tower towards the Tower Hotel.

I bought some Clarins powder at Debenhams because I was nearly out.  The cost: 38 euro.  I never said Waterford was cheap - hence, it has been crossed off our list of potential settlement places.  Nice place to visit, though, if you've got some spare cash.