Ireland in a nutshell

Where has the time gone?

I am en route back to Portland and while I am incredibly excited to get back and absolutely thrilled that I am goign to be in my house where I can sleep in my own bed TONIGHT, I am also a little sad. I'll be coming back to Ireland, just for the day and then I'm off to Croatia again. It feels like I just got here yesterday and now my time here is done and gone for the year.

Pete McCarthy wrote "Is it possible to have some kind of genetic memory of a place where you've never lived but your ancestors have? Or am I just a sentimental fool?"

My thoughts exactly Pete. I have never fully understood my fascination or connection with Ireland, but from my very first trip (10 days back in 2002 with two wonderful friends), I have always felt absurdly comfortable there.

I'm sure it started with Oma. Almost every Irish granny that I meet makes me think of Oma. They somehow have the same adventurous soul, peppered with a mental toughness that can only come from great challenges in life and topped with a slightly disheveled appearance. They are smart. Still sharp as tacks with piercing wit well into their 70s and 80s. I guess that's the irish humor in general, but the grannys are no exception. Even if they are not the ones making the jokes, you can rarely frazzle them.

It extends beyond the grannys too. I love that every time I ask our local walking guide a question I get a "smart" reply from him first. I love that the owner of a five star hotel where we stay rushed us out the back door to help us escape a guest who was "absolutely mad". More like forced us out the back door. I love that we can trust every single one of our subcontractors to go above and beyond with our guests. Most recently one went home and looked up in the government archives the family history for one of our guests then showed up at brunch with the fruits of his labor- not looking for any acknowledgement, just excited to help out.

I love the GREEN. And the blue and the red and the purple and yellow. All the bright colors of the towns we pass through and all the moss covered trees in the "four-est" that remind me of hiking at home.

I love the big swooping curves of Healy's Pass and Caha Pass on a bicycle.

I love feeling connected to the earth and being surrounded by others who seem to prioritize the little things in the world higher than wealth and material items. They sincerely care about people. It is refreshing. They know your name and your story...in a good way.

Last night as I sat talking to our local guide- and friend- he said it is always harder for them to say goodbye to us because they never know if we will get sent back. It is true.

I can never be sure if I will get sent back. Here is hoping.