And we begin - in Ireland!

We left America for Ireland in early October. Because who doesn't love wet, windy, and cold!? We arrived in Cork, a smallish city in the South. If Ireland were a rectangular clock, Cork would be at about 6:00. We had flown all night, and transferred twice, first in Charlotte and then in London. We picked up our car at the Cork airport and experienced a long reckoning in the parking lot. Were we REALLY going to attempt a right-drive car in a left-drive country? After no sleep and 4,000 miles? During our planning phase, we had agreed that Ron would drive, and I would navigate. My maps and notes were bound in an organized stack on my lap, except for the one page clutched tightly in my fist that was to get us from Cork to Kinsale, our first stop. This was our moment of truth. Would we pull into traffic, or would we spend ten days in this parking lot and fly to the next country? Fingers crossed (mine) and knuckles white (Ron's) we began.

"This isn't so bad" Ron mumbled. "At least it isn't raining" I responded in what I hoped was a cheerful, encouraging tone. Stay left, stay left, stay left went the silent prayer.

The drive to Kinsale (pronounced "kin SALE" in Irish) was mercifully short and almost pleasant. Kinsale is beautiful. It is a small coastal town about 25 kilometers south of Cork with a natural harbor and tons of history, none of which I will share at this time because a paragraph or two will simply not do the town, or its people, justice. I offer instead a few pictures I was able to snap when the clouds parted.

Kinsale Harbor at high tide

Kinsale Harbor at low tide

All the sailboats aground!

Kinsale harbor at low tide, all the sailboats aground.

Our B&B "The Cloisters" is across from St John the Baptist, the "new" church built in 1832.

St. Multose Church, pictured below, was built in 1190 replacing an earlier church of the 6th century. If her stones, and graves, could talk...

Ron at the grave of a "victim of the Lusitania outrage 7 May 1915", which was sunk by a German U-boat just off Kinsale while on its way from New York to Liverpool.

A replica of a mast from the Spanish Armada that filled the harbor in 1601 to oust the English, erected in 2001 to commemorate the 400th anniversary of the Battle of Kinsale. Had the Spanish and Irish (rebels) won, our tour guide would be giving us the tour in Spanish!

Kinsale is determined to regain the Tidy Town award, and recently painted a section of its town square lively colors to brighten the dull winter days. Can you find the fairy door on the orange shop on the corner? Here is a hint.

Far from a fairy, the not-so-bonny Kinsale native Anne Bonny was a vicious pirate who plundered the seas in the early 1700s. She was eventually captured, tried, and sentenced to death by hanging along with her pirate cohorts. She avoided the gallows by claiming to be with child (she wasn't), and was even given permission to accompany her boyfriend to his death to say goodbye. Her parting words have been immortalized in Irish lore: "If you had fought like a man, you wouldn't be dying like a dog!". The street art mural painted on the narrow steps just off the town square says it best: "Well-behaved women seldom make history"

The weather held for most of our time in Kinsale, and we were able to take several long walks, including one along the north side of the harbor to Charles Fort, and another along the south side to James Fort. Along the way, we stumbled on a perfect little fixer-upper "For Sale" sitting up on the ridge and overlooking the harbor. I have always wanted a castle! Fairies welcome...