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R. Linda:
So where was I? Oh yeah, about to return to the castle for the night.
It was our last day; we had DDTD (done Dingle to death), as Weasil said and were headed home for our last gourmet dinner (ever). I'd be going home to Lean Cuisine, so I knew the pig fest was over. So sad. As we passed by beautiful places with turquoise seas and sandy beaches, you'd think we'd just sigh. But no, Dragon looked down upon such and soon the American ideal of capitalism kicked in. She remarked she felt she was in the Caribbean for the colour of the water and pretty secluded beaches. All we needed were palm trees, so I pointed out to her we did have something 'palmy' in the way of cabbage and dwarf palms like this:
"Well, then, why don't you people use your beaches? They extend for miles and miles, all that clear water and sandy beach and not a soul . . . or a hotel in sight." She huffed.
"Because," me da felt inclined to tell her, "the water be extremely cold, and you'd shrink your begeegaul off if you went into it. Oh, excuse me, you don't have a begeegaul. But, just sayin' IF you did, you'd shrink it."
There was dead silence in the car, me mam's eyes were wide, and she looked straight ahead like she couldn't believe those words came out of her husband's mouth in mixed company. Dragon fussed with whatever she had in her lap and all I could see was the back of Big Tony and our driver's head as they looked at the road like they never heard any of that. The only one that was stifling his laughter was WEASIL, who had his face pressed up against the window glass to contain the howling with glee.
Tonya quickly changed the subject, but I wasn't paying any attention, I was still thinking about me Da and why he'd address the Dragon in that fashion. All I could think was it was his last day of putting up with her, and he was starting to unravel.
So here are some pictures of our lovely but deserted beaches.
R. Linda:
So where was I? Oh yeah, about to return to the castle for the night.
It was our last day; we had DDTD (done Dingle to death), as Weasil said and were headed home for our last gourmet dinner (ever). I'd be going home to Lean Cuisine, so I knew the pig fest was over. So sad. As we passed by beautiful places with turquoise seas and sandy beaches, you'd think we'd just sigh. But no, Dragon looked down upon such and soon the American ideal of capitalism kicked in. She remarked she felt she was in the Caribbean for the colour of the water and pretty secluded beaches. All we needed were palm trees, so I pointed out to her we did have something 'palmy' in the way of cabbage and dwarf palms like this:
We'd been passing these and the tall cabbage palms the entire time |
"Well, then, why don't you people use your beaches? They extend for miles and miles, all that clear water and sandy beach and not a soul . . . or a hotel in sight." She huffed.
"Because," me da felt inclined to tell her, "the water be extremely cold, and you'd shrink your begeegaul off if you went into it. Oh, excuse me, you don't have a begeegaul. But, just sayin' IF you did, you'd shrink it."
There was dead silence in the car, me mam's eyes were wide, and she looked straight ahead like she couldn't believe those words came out of her husband's mouth in mixed company. Dragon fussed with whatever she had in her lap and all I could see was the back of Big Tony and our driver's head as they looked at the road like they never heard any of that. The only one that was stifling his laughter was WEASIL, who had his face pressed up against the window glass to contain the howling with glee.
Tonya quickly changed the subject, but I wasn't paying any attention, I was still thinking about me Da and why he'd address the Dragon in that fashion. All I could think was it was his last day of putting up with her, and he was starting to unravel.
So here are some pictures of our lovely but deserted beaches.
Well, at least we take tourists down to see them even if we don't lie on them (this is the beach that Ryan's Daughter was filmed on) |
 |
| You can't begin to know how bracing the sea breeze is unless you are standing on the sand, burrr |
Leaving Dingle behind, here are a few parting shots:
And there were some green places too!
And some wild ones:
The trip home was filled with people snoring, the four older amongst us. I wondered how our driver stayed awake with Big Tony snoring next to him. Even the Weasil was dozing. Tonya and I were awake, and she was deep in her thoughts of going home to see the kiddos. I know she missed them, and I did, too. I did see where travelling with family takes your mind off missing those at home, you don't get two minutes to yourself to think!
When we got up into Clare again, it was lovely sunny. Our last stop was Bunratty Castle, but we arrived too late to get into the park. But that was all right. Instead, we went to Durty Nelly's Pub next door, and I felt (while it looked like an Irish Pub) that I was back in America. The transition was beginning. The walls and ceilings were covered in police and fire badges from the States. There was even an American flag outside. We had our favourite, Irish coffee, and I tell ya, I will miss those coffees. Unlike England, Ireland has decent coffee. If only they'd stop the British habit of putting milk in it instead of cream. There are enough Americans in Ireland that the demand for good coffee is now an Irish habit instead of the traditional British tea. But I tell ya, the Guinness, the Jameson, the Bushmills, even the Paddy's tastes better in Ireland than here. Weasil told me the Guinness in London tastes nothing like you get in Belfast, and I have to agree. So if you want a decent Guinness or fine Irish whiskey, you need to go to the old sod or forget about it. Well, if you don't go, you won't know what you're missing, will ya?
As we stepped out to go into Durty Nelly's, Weasil asked Big Tony if he knew the difference between an Irish Catholic and an Irish Protestant.
"Besides their religious differences, is there one?"
"Yup, a Catholic drinks Jamesons and a Protestant drinks Bushmills."
Oi! THAT stupid joke had him near to burst if he didn't get it out.
After our drinks, we went back to the castle for dinner with everyone.
As with last dinners of family together, we laughed a lot about some of the crazy things that happened. The Italian women at the brewery, the sheep escaping and holding us up, the handsome Irishman who Tonya thought was in love with her, the speeding through Belfast, and then the slowing down in the Shankill with the Republican license plates glaring that "HERE BE A VAN LOAD OF CATHOLICS," and the many 'cateedrals' we were taken to that none of us wanted to see, well, see one you've seen them all. We got quite good at picking out the spires of the Catholic churches in the distance to the square towers of the Protestant ones.
Mam's only regret was that the fuchsia and heather weren't in bloom, but the gorse was! Achoo Dragon, LMAO. Da said it was grand to have someone drive him around for a change, and he got to see parts of Ireland he never had, as well as learn a little about the country he was brought up and had lived all his life. Dragon said she enjoyed being with "us" -- for joy! Big Tony told us we had a beautiful country, but we needed to get some roofing on the antiquated thatched houses. Arugh! Tonya loved the whole experience, and if it wasn't for the kiddos, she'd want to stay, though she did admit she wanted to see forests full of trees instead of empty pastureland. As for me, I had a good time despite the fact I was with other people constantly and did a lot of things I wouldn't have done. When I think about it, if we had just stayed with me parents, I would have been doing odd jobs like I do at home, so it was all good.
As for the young whippersnapper, world traveller extraordinaire, he said it was fun being with his bestest bud in the whole world to visit the land of me ancestors, ruins in particular, all the sheep and cows, etc., I cut him short because this expounding on crazy stuff would have lasted until the next day.
The next day, Weasil had left us that morning for God knows where. We bid me parents goodbye as they still had our driver and were being taken back to Newry, probably at warp speed. The four of us had a new driver who was just as speedy as our last one. We were at Shannon Airport in plenty of time to sit around, AND the plane was late, plus customs wasn't open.
We were all shipped to British Airways to stare at THIS for two hours.
Finally, they opened customs, and we went right away. None of us were picked out of line, just through the X-ray machine and out the other side. I don't remember even seeing a full body scan. The security wasn't as tight as Logan Airport in Boston. We were asked if we had any food items and that was it. Off to Aer Lingus gate, we trucked, but at least it wasn't like Dublin when it seemed we covered ten miles from airplane to baggage retrieval.
The seats home were comfy, and the movie selection was excellent again; only the mystery chicken was so bad I couldn't eat it. But tea and scones made up for it. That was the good part of our trip.
When we arrived at Logan, we had the Abdullahs staying with us for the weekend (I won't say a word, but you knew what I was thinking). As we got out to the limo area, there were all these drivers holding signs with names, none of them being O'Sullivan. I was wondering what happened to our driver when one of them who was trying to pick Tonya up ("Hey, I don't have to wait for the Smolke family, I can take you wherever you need to go") told me there were a few drivers congregated in the lot to our left. And sure enough, there were four of them coming towards us and one had my name FINALLY.
The driver was the spitting image of Barack Obama wearing sunglasses. A tall, lanky man with a big smile who told us to come this way. But, and it always seems to happen, an Abdullah puts their foot in it. Big Tony headed to the left, where he saw the driver first, but the man turned around and said to him, "No, no, to the right. I'm parked over here," Big T's response made Tonya turn herself around and go way far away from him was, "Oh okay they all look the same to me!" Oi, oi, oi! And his wife is black, so go figure!
"Daddy!" Tonya hissed in a whisper at him.
"I meant the black limos, Tonya." He said as an excuse. Which was probably true, but still!
If the driver was offended he didn't act it, he was very professional, kept the happy going and off we went for home.
And I knew we were back because we sat in bumper-to-bumper traffic for two hours! Welcome home, Gabe, I tell ya! We went from light speed to no speed. In Ireland, they may drive like demons, but you never see an accident or rubbernecking to see what's broken down. Oi!
Gabe
Copyright © 2012 All rights reserved
(All photos are the property of © 2012 Irish Memories)
 |
| Yes, that's a pirate's doorway |
When we got up into Clare again, it was lovely sunny. Our last stop was Bunratty Castle, but we arrived too late to get into the park. But that was all right. Instead, we went to Durty Nelly's Pub next door, and I felt (while it looked like an Irish Pub) that I was back in America. The transition was beginning. The walls and ceilings were covered in police and fire badges from the States. There was even an American flag outside. We had our favourite, Irish coffee, and I tell ya, I will miss those coffees. Unlike England, Ireland has decent coffee. If only they'd stop the British habit of putting milk in it instead of cream. There are enough Americans in Ireland that the demand for good coffee is now an Irish habit instead of the traditional British tea. But I tell ya, the Guinness, the Jameson, the Bushmills, even the Paddy's tastes better in Ireland than here. Weasil told me the Guinness in London tastes nothing like you get in Belfast, and I have to agree. So if you want a decent Guinness or fine Irish whiskey, you need to go to the old sod or forget about it. Well, if you don't go, you won't know what you're missing, will ya?
As we stepped out to go into Durty Nelly's, Weasil asked Big Tony if he knew the difference between an Irish Catholic and an Irish Protestant.
"Besides their religious differences, is there one?"
"Yup, a Catholic drinks Jamesons and a Protestant drinks Bushmills."
Oi! THAT stupid joke had him near to burst if he didn't get it out.
 |
| The Grand Bunratty Castle |
 |
| Durty Nelly's very fine establishment next to Bunratty |
As with last dinners of family together, we laughed a lot about some of the crazy things that happened. The Italian women at the brewery, the sheep escaping and holding us up, the handsome Irishman who Tonya thought was in love with her, the speeding through Belfast, and then the slowing down in the Shankill with the Republican license plates glaring that "HERE BE A VAN LOAD OF CATHOLICS," and the many 'cateedrals' we were taken to that none of us wanted to see, well, see one you've seen them all. We got quite good at picking out the spires of the Catholic churches in the distance to the square towers of the Protestant ones.
Mam's only regret was that the fuchsia and heather weren't in bloom, but the gorse was! Achoo Dragon, LMAO. Da said it was grand to have someone drive him around for a change, and he got to see parts of Ireland he never had, as well as learn a little about the country he was brought up and had lived all his life. Dragon said she enjoyed being with "us" -- for joy! Big Tony told us we had a beautiful country, but we needed to get some roofing on the antiquated thatched houses. Arugh! Tonya loved the whole experience, and if it wasn't for the kiddos, she'd want to stay, though she did admit she wanted to see forests full of trees instead of empty pastureland. As for me, I had a good time despite the fact I was with other people constantly and did a lot of things I wouldn't have done. When I think about it, if we had just stayed with me parents, I would have been doing odd jobs like I do at home, so it was all good.
As for the young whippersnapper, world traveller extraordinaire, he said it was fun being with his bestest bud in the whole world to visit the land of me ancestors, ruins in particular, all the sheep and cows, etc., I cut him short because this expounding on crazy stuff would have lasted until the next day.
The next day, Weasil had left us that morning for God knows where. We bid me parents goodbye as they still had our driver and were being taken back to Newry, probably at warp speed. The four of us had a new driver who was just as speedy as our last one. We were at Shannon Airport in plenty of time to sit around, AND the plane was late, plus customs wasn't open.
We were all shipped to British Airways to stare at THIS for two hours.
The seats home were comfy, and the movie selection was excellent again; only the mystery chicken was so bad I couldn't eat it. But tea and scones made up for it. That was the good part of our trip.
When we arrived at Logan, we had the Abdullahs staying with us for the weekend (I won't say a word, but you knew what I was thinking). As we got out to the limo area, there were all these drivers holding signs with names, none of them being O'Sullivan. I was wondering what happened to our driver when one of them who was trying to pick Tonya up ("Hey, I don't have to wait for the Smolke family, I can take you wherever you need to go") told me there were a few drivers congregated in the lot to our left. And sure enough, there were four of them coming towards us and one had my name FINALLY.
The driver was the spitting image of Barack Obama wearing sunglasses. A tall, lanky man with a big smile who told us to come this way. But, and it always seems to happen, an Abdullah puts their foot in it. Big Tony headed to the left, where he saw the driver first, but the man turned around and said to him, "No, no, to the right. I'm parked over here," Big T's response made Tonya turn herself around and go way far away from him was, "Oh okay they all look the same to me!" Oi, oi, oi! And his wife is black, so go figure!
"Daddy!" Tonya hissed in a whisper at him.
"I meant the black limos, Tonya." He said as an excuse. Which was probably true, but still!
If the driver was offended he didn't act it, he was very professional, kept the happy going and off we went for home.
And I knew we were back because we sat in bumper-to-bumper traffic for two hours! Welcome home, Gabe, I tell ya! We went from light speed to no speed. In Ireland, they may drive like demons, but you never see an accident or rubbernecking to see what's broken down. Oi!
Gabe
Copyright © 2012 All rights reserved
(All photos are the property of © 2012 Irish Memories)
