When we moved to Texas nearly 10 years ago, we had a debate standing in the front yard of the 14th house we saw on our one and only day of hunting.
“The lot is perfect. But if the inside matches the outside, we’re in trouble.”
“And the address is Emerald Drive. That’s embarrassing.”
“But the lot is perfect. We can get over the Emerald thing, right? And whatever we don’t like inside we can demo.”
Eventually we went in, didn’t pay nearly enough attention to the hot mess inside, and fell further in love with the backyard. That night, we made an offer. And after surviving the home renovation that wouldn’t stop, getting to know some of the finest neighbors in Texas, and making nearly a decade of memories on Emerald Drive, I’m still embarrassed by the address.
But hey, now I’ll think of Ireland when I turn onto our street in Jewel Estates [blech], now that I know what it looks like close up.
Day one, we landed in Dublin and headed straight for a nice little Italian restaurant for lunch.
Tired but determined to stay up until a “reasonable hour” on Dublin time, we did the Hop On/Hop Off bus tour thing for a little while and lucked out with the funniest driver/tour host we’d have the whole trip.
Taking advantage of our Hop Off privileges, we stopped at Christ Church Cathedral to take a look around.
Dating back to 1030, founded by Vikings, the church has a famous sculpture of a sleeping, homeless Jesus which I didn’t read about until after taking this photo.
Opting not to Hop (back) On, we grabbed an Uber to our hotel, nested for a little bit, then walked down the street past this gorgeous old hospital building to dinner.
The first of many times we practiced saying Slainte! If I had known this was the one and only place we found where I could enjoy a Guinness 0 on tap, I would have had two.
The morning of day two, we met up with our walking tour guide for a stroll around Dublin. Like nearly everyone we would meet, he was friendly, passionate about Irish culture, and could recall facts and dates with incredible speed. Or he was just a good storyteller who made stuff up. Either way, he was good at it.
After many centuries, Ireland finally won its independence in 1922. I couldn’t stop thinking about how that really wasn’t very long ago.
The Temple Bar area of town…
…where places stay open late.
After checking out what a boxty was all about for lunch, we went to Kilmmainham Gaol, which housed many of the leaders of the 1916 Easter Rising, 14 of whom were executed here. Interestingly, there wasn’t a lot of public support for that particular rising, but the execution of its leaders turned them into martyrs and led to worldwide sympathy for the cause. In 1921 the Anglo-Irish Treaty established the Irish Free State that was in full effect by 1922.
The jail is now a popular tourist stop that’s regularly used for film production.
Here’s a full Irish Breakfast, with white and black pudding. This is not on the Lite Bites section of the menu.
Heading out on day three, we visited the Rock of Cashel, which turned out to be my favorite ABC [Another Bloody Castle] stop we made together.
Eventually we made our way to Mount Juliet Estate near Kilkenny (haha, Kill Kenny) where we stayed for one short night.
The manor house wasn’t too shabby.
While wandering around, looking for the walled garden (because you gotta have a walled garden if you have a manor house), Ella found the playground.
Buzz buzz.
Day four, we went to Lyrath Estate to try out their Falconry School which was easily the coolest thing we got to do.
That’s an owl. It was nice to start off with a slightly kinder, gentler, fluffier bird of prey before getting up close with the hawks and falcons.
We made Ella go first. Sixteen year-olds have no fear that the hawk might take out an eyeball instead of landing where they’ve been trained to go.
After we took turns allowing the falcon to land on the gauntlet-glove-like things we wore, John, who runs the school, showed us how she would hunt and strike prey. We learned that peregrine falcons are the fastest animals on the planet, reaching nearly 200 mph while diving.
It was a sight to see (from a safe distance!)
Leaving Kilkenny, we drove toward Killarney, taking a short hike to Torc Falls before arriving at our hotel for the night. Ella and I learned that hiking to the very top doesn’t improve the view of the falls, but we got in our steps for the day. Nana and Molly were much smarter and stayed down below.
On day five, we took a jaunting car ride through part of Killarney National Park, which was nearly ruined by the tour guide who told more bad jokes than Disney’s Jungle Cruise, but we just tuned him out after awhile.
The scenery was stunning as advertised.
The one stop we made was to walk around Ross Castle.
You can’t go inside the castle’s keep, but there was a little snack stand with postcards and a bored teenager.
After the carriage ride, we Ubered over to the Muckross Estate.
If I were a bagillionaire, I’d be making an immediate offer on Muckross House. It sits on the most beautiful plot of lakeside land and the basement kitchen made me drool a little. Molly and I both took a few illegal photos so I can beg Wes to build something like it for us one day.
Back in Killarney proper, we went out in search of dinner and ice cream, looking in the shop windows as we went.
In Ireland, it’s TK Maxx.
The carnies were in town, too.
Home base for this part of the trip was The Great Southern Killarney.
The morning of day six, we headed out to drive the Dingle Peninsula.
Along the way, we paid a few Euro each to walk through some nice gentleman’s backyard so we could check out the ancient beehive houses. Across the water, you could also see Skellig Michael in the distance. It’s most famous in recent years as the filming location for Luke Skywalker’s secret hideaway in a couple of the Star Wars movies.
The sheep were not as impressed as we were by the scenery.
This view, from Slea Head Drive (yes, at the tip of the Dingle Peninsula), was breathtaking.
In just about every souvenir shop, you can find jewelry of some description in the shape of these curious bleeding heart blooms.
Still along the day’s drive, we visited the Gallarus Oratory…
…as well as this beautiful 12th century Kilmaldedar Church and graveyard.
Finally we found the cute little down of Dingle.
Then motored back “home” for the night.
Day seven, we were back on the road, this time with a surprise first stop for Nana to the Kerry Woollen Mills.
Yes, they shipped.
The owner gave us a tour of the whole process, from shearing to final textiles.
He also had a super awesome Golden Retriever named Millie. (Get it? Millie?)
Next stop: The Cliffs of Moher.
First by land.
(Where it was down right blustery and we had exactly 15 minutes to look around before rushing on.)
Then by sea.
It was a long day and way past lunchtime. We weren’t sure Ella was going to make it, but there was a delicious burger truck in the ferry parking lot that sold some insanely good fries.
Or chips. Not chips like crisps, but chips like fries. Irish food can be confusing for Americans.
Revived by the yummy chips, we finished driving to Dromoland Castle.
I mean, you gotta stay somewhere.
Day eight, we took another ferry — with this adorable sweetie pie — to Inis Oirr, the smallest of the Aran Islands.
Moo.
Learning about the shipwrecked M.V. Plassy and the dramatic rescue of her crew was a point of pride of the locals. The elements have done a number on it and it’s beginning to collapse over the limestone burren.
Our guide told us this church, Cill Ghobnait, a religious site believed to be used since the 6th century, was discovered in modern times when islanders were digging a grave.
Day nine! We got to see horses and also this little guy.
Neigh-neigh.
Safety first. Can’t risk getting creepy crawlies in or from the riding helmets.
Irish sheep are very calm from what we could see.
After patting all of the horsey noses goodbye, we drove back to Dublin where we spent our two last nights before flying home.
Day ten, we made time to shop-shop, first visiting This Is Knit in Powerscourt Townhouse, which was something of a knitting mecca we gathered.
We also wandered around Grafton Street and Ella bought some new kicks, which she hasn’t shared with me yet. Guess I might need to buy my own.
Not to worry, that’s my Heineken 0.0 Ella grabbed before posing for this pic.
One of the tastiest dinners we had was at Lincoln’s Inn, where author James Joyce met his eventual wife Nora Barnacle who was a chambermaid at Finn’s Hotel. Ironically, we had no idea about the building’s history when Molly spied it as good place to stop. We were surprised to learn all about it on the following day’s walking tour.
Which brings us to the morning of day eleven, when we went to Trinity College where they have the Book of Kells, a 9th century manuscript with unbelievably intricate illustrations. Each week, a different set of pages is on exhibit. Unfortunately for us, there were some interior pages with little illustration on display that day but there’s a well done museum to walk through which gives you the full experience.
Moving on to the university’s library, we all stopped and gapped as we looked around. This space is said to be the inspiration J.K. Rowling drew on when dreaming up Hogwarts. Whether that’s true or not, the room does make you feel that similar kind of reverence and smallness you feel stepping into an ornate cathedral, where the devotion to religion is replaced with devotion to knowledge and learning.
Evidence of the gaping. ;)
Here is one of the original posters from the 1916 Easter Rising which is much like our Declaration of Independence.
Also on exhibit in the library is the Brian Boru Harp. This instrument is the stuff of legends in Ireland; for centuries it was part of the papal collection in the Vatican, it was once stolen in 1969, and you might recognize it from the Guinness logo, trademarked to sell suds in 1876. It was also adopted as the official symbol of Ireland in 1922 after they officially won their independence. Super cool.
More of the Trinity College campus.
The walking tour took us back through Grafton Street…
…past the pretty flower stalls…
…and some back-alley shortcuts.
We also stopped and learned all about this important place that I can’t remember a thing about.
We gathered that for Dubliners, Leo Burdocks is to fish and chips as Popeyes is to red beans and rice in New Orleans.
Our final tour stop was St. Patrick’s Cathedral.
Brilliant merchandising move to put the gift shop two feet away from the stone that once marked St. Patrick’s legendary well.
We were tiiiired. While our exuberant tour guide stepped away for a few minutes, we conspired to call an early end to the day and asked him to lead us on to a good place for lunch.
Nearly back to the hotel, we made one final spin around a shop that looked inviting.
The Davenport Hotel, once known as Merrion Hall, formerly a Plymouth Brethren house of worship and the largest gospel hall of its time, had it’s interior almost entirely destroyed by fire in 1990. It was then reimagined as a hotel and we enjoyed the comfy beds.
It was a wonderful trip but there’s no place like home. We were all ready to hop on that bus with wings and fly east.
