Talkin' about Ireland

My prior post got me ta' thinking about my trip to Ireland, my first trip out of the U.S., courtesy of my brother Craig's many frequent flyer miles, and so I got to ride in style, first class all the way. Not bad for a first trip overseas. It was 1993. I look back now in wonder - I made no plans, except arriving in the country, a room in Dublin and plans to stay with a friend's mother in Cork. Other than that, it was 'play it by ear'. I went out from PDX in the biggest snowstorm we'd had in years, wondering who was going to pick up my dog Max and care for him (my brother Thad and my Dad in a four wheel drive in a foot of snowdrift). I made it, they made it and Max made it for another 12 years, so the finger of God was on our heads.

At this point in my life I would probably never do that vagabond thing again, but what fun it was then! After Dublin and Cork, I rode a bus out of Cork City to Kinsale, accompanied by little blue eyed, dark haired Irish children in Catholic school uniforms, who sang songs in honor of their friend's birthday halfway from Cork to Kinsale. In Kinsale, "Auld Pete" told me it was just a 'wee' little walk up to the fort, offered me his gloves to wear (which I took!), and miles and hours later, I was puffing my way back down to the tourist office where "Auld Pete" was gleefully wheezing away at yet another American he had put on the treadmill. The Fort was worth it, by the way.

Then on to Killarney, as so many tourists have gone before. I always travel off season, so much easier. And, as I frequently travel by myself, I'm pretty much aware of my surroundings (I've been robbed at gunpoint, but only here in the good old safe USA - but it does make you aware). As I was wandering around Killarney town, down an old cobbled street without much traffic, I became aware of footsteps behind me. When I stopped - they stopped. I walked on - they walked on. I stopped again, they stopped again. I was obviously looking for a person following me, but, no, no one was there. Finally, I got out my camera, walked on and then whipped around and took the picture of my follower! He didn't have a gun.

But he was mighty cute!

The Dog of Killarney. I've never forgotten him.