I want to see all the shades of green my mother saw, kelly, emerald, olive, fern, lime, jade. I want my husband Bob to taste his favorite beer, Guinness, in its country of origin. “Of all the places you’ve visited in your life, what is your favorite?” Bob asked the elder travellers in the family at a family wedding in Canada, August 2015. “Ireland,” my mother said. Ireland. She has been to China, the Canadian Arctic, Florida, England, Barbados, France. Now Mom will never see another St. Paddy’s day. I want to make a list of names of the enticing pubs I visit, Molly Malone’s, the Merry Ploughboy, Old Thatch and the Swan Inn. “I came to this pub in Surrey/I’m thirsty I said so lets hurry/the barkeep said no/I said that blows/and ran off to find somewhere else to get blurry.” I want to visit Trinity College and the Dublin Writers Museum; Mom so loved to read. Visit the Hugh Lane Gallery; Mom was an artist, and the impressionist collection would be my favouite to see. I want to Dublin crawl in search of a Celtic Harp and glow to a fiddler’s vibe, my cheeks pink from fresh Irish mist and liquid cheer. Get up and dance. Pull a stranger to her feet. Kiss the Blarney stone. Say a limerick in Limerick. Visit the hometown (home of Writers Tears whiskey) of the young bartender we met at an Irish – of course! – pub at Blue Mountain, Ontario. Tears for a mother. A toast for my mother. The flavours in the amber drink are a trip of their own, peat, green apple, vanilla, caramel. Walk the Cliffs of Moher and dream. Take a ferry across the churning sea to the cliffs of Aran. Cycle, my wheels crunching on the gravel road, past ruins, stone walls and thatched cottages. Take in the pinks, yellows, greens and blues of Claddagh Village and picture a painting made there. Shop the Old English market near the Grand Parade in Cork. Pigs feet for Bob, and oysters and glistening fish. See the pretty little houses in a row, get winded climbing the road to the Cobh Cathedral in its picturesque setting. Where will I stay? A castle grey, in the grandest highland? Watch the embers in the fireplace glow red, warm my cool face. See white sheep dotting the verdant hills. Wear a creamy-colored sweater knit from the wool of a local herd. Ramble down the road to the next historic pub, belly up to the weathered wooden bar and hear that delicious mellifluous accent offer me a pint. Order a dish of Irish beef stewed to flavourful perfection. Ask questions of the locals and tourists. Where else should we go? What is your favorite thing to do here? Point my Irish cheek bones with a freckle or two, towards the edge of a cliff. Make a wish on the thundering deep, dark, ocean waves. And say thank you mother, thank you for everything
A Trip to Ireland often becomes a favorite for many experienced travelers – Who can resist the beauty of the vast green and blue landscapes, the warm hospitality of the locals, or the historic Ireland Castles that stand tall even after hundreds of years. Want to discover it for yourself? Give us a call to start planning a custom vacation that stops at all of the places you are interested in!