We plunged headlong down the street anxious to see the most bombed hotel in Ireland, but then the sky let loose enough water to drown fish–
Our two friends and my husband voted for shelter in the historic Crown Bar across the street from the hotel. The Crown Bar and Saloon is know as the most beautiful bar in the world, but I’m sure they were drawn more to the promise of Guinness and shepherds pie. Me? I go with the crowd, but only literally.
Striding out, loving the puddles at my feet and the gift from the clouds, I splashed on ahead of my umbrella holding and hooded companions. We left a drought and threats of forest fires back in New Mexico. I tossed back my hood and laugh, just loving all that water.
Soaked from head to toe, and totally delighted, I shoved open the stained glass door of the Crown Bar and Saloon and stepped into the darkened establishment.
The three men who were sitting at the long bar turned their heads in unison and stared. The bartender stopped pouring and looked up at me, too.
Now you need to understand that Irish gentlemen are a wee bit conservative in their attitude toward the women of Ireland. I knew that. I knew the women in Ireland weren’t given the rights to seek divorces until the mid 1950’s. That’s just a hint of how women in Ireland haven’t yet caught up to their American counterparts, but momentarily, I had forgotten these cultural differences until I saw the look on those faces.
I felt more than self-conscientious. I stared back not knowing what to say about my rude intrusion.
“Say, lass, where de ye come from?” The elderly man in the middle raise his hand toward me. The other two men held their mugs steady in their hands and their eyes steady on me.
“America–North America–actually New Mexico–that’s in the United States.” I took a tiny step closer and kept eye contact. I’m no fool. I’m not about to show fear.
“Well, then, let me ask,” he said, “did ye swim all the way?”
I so love Ireland.
There’s a reason why Ireland is called the Emerald Island, there’s a reason why New Mexico is a rather brown state. Here in New Mexico we celebrate rain, in Ireland they apologize for all the wetness.
But think of this, weather–it’s not good, it’s not bad. It just is. Granted, hurricanes, tornadoes, droughts, floods, and all extreme weather is frightening when we don’t feel safe. But each time when temperatures hit 100 degrees in June, or when rain storms pound down in July, or when the snow piles up in February we face change from what we’ve considered normal during that year.
As a writer, I love all variations in weather. I’m one of those when the radio announces a tornado watch, I run out to watch. Not living in tornado alley is probably a good thing in my case.
I don’t want normal. I want experiences that lead to emotion, urgency, and something unusual. I’m sure you might discover stories of the unusual and a sense of urgency if you checked out the most bombed hotel in Ireland, but I’ve found changes in weather create an urgency, the unusual, and always connect to honest emotions.
I learn so much from others. Please share your weather secrets in the comment section below. Is weather an important part of your life and your writing?
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Just for fun:
Lucky you, going to Ireland. Someday I’ll get there. Have you tried the recipe? The photo looks like it has a flaky crust, but the recipe calls for mashed potatoes. Was there mashed potatoes under the crust?
Hi Kathy, You can’t go wrong making a trip to Ireland a future goal. Nope, haven’t tried that particular recipe, but it had five stars so I figured it had to have some merit. You’re so right, the one in the Crown did have like a puff pastry top with mashed potatoes underneath. I do make one similar to the recipe that I’ve linked to, but I use beer instead of wine, and I’m too lazy to hold fast to the little particulars of many recipes. I think any meat that falls apart after simmering in a rich brown gravy with some good veggies and served with buttery mashed potatoes would give you a great yummy-Irish-like-tummy sensation. Even though you’ve not made it to Ireland, thanks for visiting through my adventures.
For the rest of my readers, Kathy has a wonderful blog that I’ve followed for quite some time. Even though it’s slanted toward children’s books, the illustrations of the authors she showcases are a journey themselves. You’ll love seeing how illustrations come to life, step by step, and the advice and information on writing is often appropriate for all writers and authors. Thanks so much Kathy for giving me so many fun hours of escape. Children’s picture books are a treasure for all of us.
The hotel is beautiful. Food look real good. The beer of Ireland are my favorite. You took me back to my days of traveling Europe. Thank you.
You’re right, the hotel is a luxury hotel and I rarely drink beer, but Ireland–Glad you enjoyed the memories. Thanks for stopping by.
I like your blog, and i like your recipe too. 🙂
Thanks Hilal, for commenting and stopping by my site. I love to cook when I have time. I don’t care how difficult, but the end results must be tasty. I also love learning about people when I travel. Do you travel/cook? I guess I need to check out your site, too.
I apologize for my bad english.
Yes, you are correct. I love to cook, I cook almost every day for my own. I cook since I was teens.
I also love traveling.
Around the date of August 15, 2012, I will be traveling by car from my city, Jakarta to Yogyakarta city, within 600 km in Indonesia. Along roads and in cities which I passed, I usually enjoy a typical meal in the restaurants at those cities. Then I would guess the seasonings, and when returned to my city, Jakarta, I will try to cook it.
I will also pay attention to language, behavior, and the lives of people in those cities…. I like your blog, and I will read your other posts. 🙂
Oh my goodness, Hilal, (Is that the right way to address you?) don’t ever apologize for your English! If it’s one thing I’ve learned about traveling, it’s that most of the citizens of the U.S.A. are negligent in learning to speak a language other than their first learned language. I know just enough Spanish, French, and Italian to keep myself out of trouble and to ask where something is, but outside of that–my conversational language, other than English, is pathetic. And here’s the thing: No matter where I go around the world, I can always find someone who knows my language, even if I don’t know theirs. Now that’s embarrassing! Your English makes my heart sing with joy because look at how far away you are from the UK or America. Amazing.
You’ll have to share some of your recipes with your readers, and I promise to share a few of my more unusual ones in some of my upcoming posts. Thanks for reading, and commenting, and sharing a bit about yourself.