Ireland 2026; Day Five

 

I just can't help it.  

Every time I walk past this little house, I have to take a picture.  

Never mind that I've done so at least a dozen times over the years. 

It's just plain photogenic, charming and so Ireland. 

And, that, I must confess, is a weakness I've noticed every time we come back to this country. 

Often we grow wearing of seeing the same-o, same-o scenes. 

Not in Ireland. 

These scenes all around the country have a sort of magnetism that keeps tugging at one's heart. And, when we see them once again, the heart is full of nostalgic admiration. 

So, I won't apologize about capturing some of the same images time after time on our visits. 

The little house is located along the street where we walk to The Moorings Restaurant for lunch. 

Yesterday's menu included mixed vegetable soup for me and bisque for Bill, along with fresh-baked Irish brown bread. As usual, we enjoyed our server Jacob who moved to Ireland three years ago from Slovakia.

As always, our meal was delightful---every last spoonful and bite. 

Port Magee is where passengers board a boat to visit or cruise around Skelig Michael of “Star Wars” fame.  Bill, Annie and I did that once a few years ago. 

We opted for the cruise around the island, which is alive with adorable puffins, but we also enjoyed an unplanned step off the boat to the island, thanks to some other passengers who were seasick. 

It was brief, but we could still wear the figurative badges of saying we’d been there and done that.

Port Magee also has a bridge that takes folks across to the Valencia Island. 

We’ve done that route a few times on our travels, and it has become an essential ever since 2023 when we went there the day after our Border Collie Liam had to be euthanized back home in Idaho.

As you might imagine, the grief of suddenly saying good bye over the phone to our beloved dog six thousand miles away was unbearable.

The next day was a “put one tear-filled foot in front of the other” as we processed what had happened.

I remember feeling numb and empty for most of the day, but when we drove to the highest point on Valencia Island and looked down at the green fields, then filled with white sheep, we could both envision Liam down there doing his work.

Yesterday Bill pointed out one field, and said, “That’s Liam’s field.”

So, it’s an emotional trip but also one filled with awe at the sheer beauty of the ocean, its foamy, white waves crashing the shore, the lighthouse and those green fields where Liam now resides in our minds.

We also enjoyed some amazing views of Skelig Michel and thought of the day in 2017 when we enjoyed the good fortune of setting foot on the island.

Our hours here in Kenmare involved Bill taking and minding the laundry next door and enjoying walks in between.  I worked extra time on my blog and took some nice walks around the neighborhood as well as to Quill’s Woolens a few blocks away.

A few years ago, I bought most of my Christmas presents at Quill’s and had them mailed home.

I probably won’t do that this year, thanks to the advice from the clerks who said they would be happy to mail my purchases if I didn’t mind tacking a 17-percent tariff on top of the purchase, mailing and insurance price.

No thank you, I said.  Their suggestion:  buy an extra suitcase for those items and you can shop at several stores and take it home with you.

Thank you, Donald Trump, for your “beautiful” tariffs, but I’d rather see that my money does not go to your ball room, your arch or all the other places you are spending money.

I don’t know if we want to deal with that hassle, but I’ll still pick up some souvenirs that fit in my bags.

After returning from Port Magee, Bill and I relaxed for a while and then walked to P.F. McCarthy’s to say hi to Vince. 

His wife Mary had already left. Still, we took a group photo and caught a shot of the man Vince had jokingly told our friend Janice Johnson was Vince. 

That man’s name was Mike, and he says he does get confused as Vince occasionally.

It made for good laughs all around.

After saying good bye to Vince and the gang, we headed to the Kenmare Brew House where the two-man band was playing mainly American favorites. 

I enjoyed some more sweet potato tarragon soup while Bill ordered the favorite dish to many---steak and potato cakes.

It was another fine day in Ireland, including the weather, so we are pinching ourselves.  This morning we’ve seen a little rain and some rather blustery wind, but it’s pleasant outside.

We may go to Dingle today. That will be decided when we’re both ready to make some plans.  For now, we’re enjoying a quiet and pleasant morning here in the cottage.

Happy Tuesday. 

Enjoy the photos. 

 

From a prior trip, when Bill, Annie and I visited Skellig Michael, a World Heritage site of the coast of Ireland. 

Our friend Vince.  

He's a chef who creates amazing baked goods, and we've seen him on every visit since Bill and I started doing trips on our own through Ireland.  

Besides working as a chef and a business owner, Vince is a gifted writer with a wicked and hilarious sense of humor.  For locals back home, he could be an Irish version of Patrick McManus. 

Vince pulled our neighbor Janice's leg when she and her hubby Mark were in Kenmare a few days ago. 

After I suggested that she go to P.F. McCarthy's restaurant and ask for Vince, she did just that. 

Vince's quick wit took hold, and he pointed to a man outside the establishment having a cigarette and told Janice that was Vince. So, she went outside and met Mike, who was not Vince. 

The group all enjoyed a great laugh once the truth about the real Vince was known. 

This little 4-legged cutie apparently also serves as the paper boy. 

This is an Irish crow. 

Don't ask me why the different color, but when you see the difference between an Irish robin and an American robin, you'll note that birds, like people, are not uniform the world around. 

Still, they have some universal tendencies, and, in crows, it seems to be the personalities and the range of sounds. 

We have several crows hanging out and flitting from roof or high wire to another in the lane leading from our cottage. 

Nice to feel at home with their ever-present busYness, even if they don't look the same. 

Hydrangeas and fuchsias are as common in Ireland as daisies in America. 

We arrived in time for the hydrangeas to still exhibit their beautiful blooms, but they are slowly fading. 

Fuchsias, on the other hand, are ubiquitous and always elegantly beautiful.