There is not an Irish gene in my body but Ireland
has always been part of me. You see, I’m a St. Patrick’s Day baby! Yes, every
year growing up Mom and I would try to think of some treat to take to school
that wasn’t so green the kids wouldn’t eat it. When my co-travel addict, my
husband, decided Ireland was the next place on the bucket list to visit, there
was no argument from me.
We started in Dublin and traveled clockwise around
the whole island ending back in Dublin. Along the way we feasted on Irish
delicacies, visited ancient sites, roamed quaint streets, watched the ocean
crash into huge stone cliffs, heard tales of giants and leprechauns, drank in
the purpled fields of heather, and marveled at the numbers of sheep we met in
the middle of the road. A month on the road stopping for a night or two in
places like Waterford, Cobh, Kinsale, Killarney, Galway, Dingle, Potrush,
Londonderry, and Belfast passed by quickly as we sampled Irish hospitality all
along the way. It all sounds so romantic. And looking back now, it was.
We came home with over 1500 digital pictures. But
the things that I value most from the trip are the impressions of people and
places that will enrich my characters and settings in novels yet to come. For
example, we had heard that in order to preserve the original Gaelic language,
there were pockets in some communities where only Gaelic was spoken. In one little town where we stopped for tea
and scones, an elderly gentleman started past our outdoor table on his way in
to the bakery. The gentleman, weathered and bent from years of perhaps
shepherding or farming, tipped his hat to us and rattled off a greeting in
Gaelic, none of which we understood. We smiled and nodded and he continued to
speak to us never halting to see if we would answer. I have no idea what he
said but it appeared to be friendly from the expression on his face. With a
wink, he disappeared through the door leaving us to wonder what we had missed
with no translation. Somewhere he will fit into a story, I’m sure.
Towns and cities were representative of their
struggles of the past. The playfulness in the colors of Kinsale’s homes and
businesses reflected the release of restrictions from British laws that
required more “proper” decoration and were a stark contrast to the intense murals
of Belfast that mark the period called the Troubles. So much history shapes the
country and the people of the Emerald Island as it does all countries and
peoples. Whether as a writer, one gets to travel the world or only their own
community, there is a wealth of material on which to build characters and
settings. The key is to observe, tuck the images in your mind, and look for
what makes them so unique.
I also learned that the Irish are great
storytellers. There is a story behind most everything you see in Ireland. The
Giants Causeway in Northern Ireland is a prime example. The natural wonder was
said to be made by two fighting giants, one from Scotland and one from Ireland.
Through a very clever trick of the Irish giant’s wife, he won the battle
without even fighting.
Thinking back to all those great Irish
storytellers we heard along the way—well, maybe I do have a bit o’the Irish in
me after all.
For a look at our Ireland trip use the Ireland Posts Page.
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