IRELAND DAY 3 - OUR NEWEST OLD FRIENDS

 

We wake up early and take breakfast at the hotel.  One more important stop before we pull up stakes.  We bundle up and take a brisk walk to the Phil Lynott statue.  Phil was the founding member of Thin Lizzy and was Ireland’s original rock idol a few decades before Bono.  A visit to the statue remains an important pilgrimage to many an old rocker.

Back at the hotel we meet Allison and Steve, her husband, for a leisurely cup of tea before we hit the road.  About Allison and Steve… they’re our oldest, dearest friends who we’ve only met once.  In June of 2022, we did a Spanish cruise with our friends Jay and Judy.  Jay had worked with Steve for many years, so when Steve heard we would be in Mirabella, where they summer, Steve volunteered to pick us up and host us at a beach resort for the day.  We spent the day drinking and laughing and generally enjoying life and formed an instant bond with the easygoing couple.  When we asked Alison to take a look at our Irish trip itinerary, she immediately responded with “we have to meet you there”. 

Our bags loaded into their Audi Q7 we head on down the road.  The Wicklow Mountain drive to Glendalough is everything you’d hope for when touring the Irish countryside.  Insanely narrow roads with crazily tight blind turns wind across wide fields dotted with adorable homes and farm buildings.  It’s spring so the landscape is just starting to turn that trademark emerald, but huge swaths of bright yellow fields are what really catch your eye.  We ask and Steve explains it’s rapeseed, used primarily for its oil, and better known to us Americans as canola.

We arrive in Glendalough and get dropped off at the visitor center.  We start off up the Derrybawn Woodland Trail, aka, the orange loop, while Steve and Ali get the lay of the local pub scene.  The 7km hike circles up to the top of the mountain then drops us down onto the Poulaness waterfall, passing some stunning photo ops along the way. 

Our final leg takes us past the Monastic City, the ruins of the 6^th century settlement founded by St. Kevin, and still one of Ireland’s most important treasures.  It’s beautiful and macabre at the same time, the huge black birds and tilty headstones really lend the Hitchcokian vibe.

Back in the car, we finish the drive into the center of Kilkenny.  Mandy and I want to get a feel for the place, so the four of us hoof it into The Pumphouse for a proper pint of Guinness.  This concept was a little curious, and I had to ask Steve to explain.  If you look at reviews of Irish bars, the most common note next to a five star review is “Great pint of Guinness!”  I didn’t get it.  In America, no one would say “Great Budweiser!  Highly Recommend!”  Steve explained to me that a real Irish barman understands the art of pulling a pint of Ireland’s signature brew.  It’s done in stages with time between to allow the beer settle and the tiny nitrogen bubbles to create the creamy head.  A poser just pours the beer like any other and the experience, and taste, suffers.  We do not suffer this day.

We check into the storied Mt Juliet Estate, our very swank digs for the evening.  Built in 1757 on a 500 acre plot bisected by the River Nore, the estate was home to seven generations of aristocracy, rising and falling with the fortunes of the Earls and the country itself.  Several iterations later it’s now part of the Marriott Autograph Collection providing guests with a taste of long forgotten nobility.  We dine at The Hound, finally retiring into the high ceiling lounge at the Manor House, sipping cocktails while speaking in hushed tones late into the night as people have done in the very spot have for the last 250 years.