A single butterfly flaps its wings and chaos is set in motion; that chaos is currently clogging the WiFi in all of Ireland. Okay, perhaps a wee bit of blarney crept into my story thus far. The chaos has followed Jimmy and me (and the fifty other people with our tour group) from Dublin to Ballina and on to the Connemara Coast, Galway and Killarney. I really can't speak for the rest of the Emerald Isle.
Uploading pictures is out of the question given access to the internet via my computer (and thus access to all my pictures) has been impossible. My cell phone is worthless too. It's 1:45 am in Killarney and the public computer is finally available! So I'll take a few minutes to paint you a picture of a people and a place on the fringes of western Europe where, to quote a young Irishman with a twinkle in his eye (he was boss when it came to a fiddle and a microphone last night) and a song on his lips: "It rains in beautiful Ireland nine months out of the year. The other three months, it's winter!"
Uploading pictures is out of the question given access to the internet via my computer (and thus access to all my pictures) has been impossible. My cell phone is worthless too. It's 1:45 am in Killarney and the public computer is finally available! So I'll take a few minutes to paint you a picture of a people and a place on the fringes of western Europe where, to quote a young Irishman with a twinkle in his eye (he was boss when it came to a fiddle and a microphone last night) and a song on his lips: "It rains in beautiful Ireland nine months out of the year. The other three months, it's winter!"
The Irish don't skirt around what the rest of us might use as a good excuse to be miserable all day. The Irish simply work right through the rain. There's really not much of a choice. More often than not weather related exchanges initiated by the Irish begin with something like this.
"Not a bad day, have you now?"
No chance commiseration is in the cards with an encore along the following lines.
"I'm hearing the rain should let up by early afternoon. I say again, not a bad day, if you be asking me now."
Not exactly a good day, either, if anyone's asking.
Jimmy and I toured the most magestic of castles yesterday, along with a stunning Victorian garden (yes, that would be an outdoor venue) in a steady rain than alternated between a mist and a downpour. My shoes, socks and feet were soaked. Ah, but tomorrow sunshine is actually in the forecast. I should be able to shake the chill in my bones by then. Yes, we Americans (even the ones with Irish ancestors) are an entitled group, aren't we?! Okay, maybe it's just me or something a pair of galoshes could take care of. Let's move on.
I'd have to admit, I couldn't have asked for a bigger box of crayons when it comes to coloring Ireland a thing of beauty. Mountainous vistas along the west coast were a patchwork of all manner of green - Kelly green, emerald green, lime green - outlined in grey stones stacked two to six feet tall where each plot of land paints a picture of pride and prosperity. It really was beautiful (thanks to all that rain)!
Where the farmland gives way to urban centers, a rainbow of colors - reds, purples, yellows, blues, oranges and more greens - are splashed all over the buildings lining the small, quaint towns. No leprechauns need apply for a job finding that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I've found it! Yeah, it's wet, but it's wonderful!
Of course, if there are any leprechauns out there who can work their magic when it comes to WiFi, I'm taking applications!
"Not a bad day, have you now?"
No chance commiseration is in the cards with an encore along the following lines.
"I'm hearing the rain should let up by early afternoon. I say again, not a bad day, if you be asking me now."
Not exactly a good day, either, if anyone's asking.
Jimmy and I toured the most magestic of castles yesterday, along with a stunning Victorian garden (yes, that would be an outdoor venue) in a steady rain than alternated between a mist and a downpour. My shoes, socks and feet were soaked. Ah, but tomorrow sunshine is actually in the forecast. I should be able to shake the chill in my bones by then. Yes, we Americans (even the ones with Irish ancestors) are an entitled group, aren't we?! Okay, maybe it's just me or something a pair of galoshes could take care of. Let's move on.
I'd have to admit, I couldn't have asked for a bigger box of crayons when it comes to coloring Ireland a thing of beauty. Mountainous vistas along the west coast were a patchwork of all manner of green - Kelly green, emerald green, lime green - outlined in grey stones stacked two to six feet tall where each plot of land paints a picture of pride and prosperity. It really was beautiful (thanks to all that rain)!
Where the farmland gives way to urban centers, a rainbow of colors - reds, purples, yellows, blues, oranges and more greens - are splashed all over the buildings lining the small, quaint towns. No leprechauns need apply for a job finding that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I've found it! Yeah, it's wet, but it's wonderful!
Of course, if there are any leprechauns out there who can work their magic when it comes to WiFi, I'm taking applications!
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