Then we went to Ireland and left all that behind. We came to visit Jason - who worked with Brian in a pub in 1998 and later found him again via Facebook - and his fiancee Jenna. Jason picked us up at the airport in Cork and a few hours later we were standing on the beach at Spanish Point outside of Milltown Malbay, County Clare. Spanish Point is named for the wrecked ships of the Armada that crashed here in 1588.
Much of Jason's family lives in Clare. We stayed with cousin Jon who owns a guesthouse in Milltown Marbay and runs a pub on the little high street. The town is a destination for surfers - thanks to Neoprene, there was plenty of surfing happening in December - and for tourists driving down the Wild Atlantic Way on Ireland's west coast. From what I gathered the Wild Atlantic Way is nothing more than a lot of coastal country roads linked together with nice signage, and is remarkable for just how un-developed and well-marketed it is. The attraction, of course, is the beautiful coast line and the pretty little towns along the way. Even in the dead of winter, most of Jon's guest house rooms were rented out.
We took a walk on the family land in the Burren, which is a rocky inland region with its own mild microclimate. The grass grows here all year round. So do the wild goats, who we ran into on our hike up the hill.
That evening, we saw many of the dozen aunts and uncles who grew up on this land at the annual family holiday dinner. And Brian and I became part of the family. The wine glass never quite went empty and somehow I ended up at the head of the table. The two aunts who ran the show were pros - four courses for fifteen people and they didn't break a sweat. Then we headed back to the pub for a few, then a few more.
No comments:
Post a Comment