DOING CRAIC / IRELAND 2007/ PART 2-2

We pulled into our first B&B, Waterlands, around 6:30. Half a mile outside of Kinsale, it’s a tidy little one story with modern amenities. The owner’s daughter Rachel, a pretty and pleasant dark haired twenty-something, took our breakfast orders, gave us dinner some recommendations, and pointed us downhill toward town.

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Kinsale reminded us of our state capital, Annapolis. One of Kinsale’s designated twins is Newport, Rhode Island. The others are Juan-Les-Pins in Antibes, France, and Mumbles, Wales. Peg and I spent our honeymoon in Newport. We loved the place. Can only imagine we’d enjoy Juan-Les-Pins and Mumbles, too.

I mean, come on, how could someone not love a place called Mumbles.

The harbor, banked by wandering medieval streets lined with trendy restaurants, pubs, and shops, and in the distance, the haunted Charles Fort cliffs, is full of boats moored to floating docks. Off the Celtic Sea, the tides rise and fall six to ten feet. There are work boats and pleasure boats galore. None of which anybody is operating.

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And none of Rachel’s dining recommendations had seating available for us. We decided on the Blue Haven restaurant located in the hotel of the same name.

The restaurant was vaguely designed like the hold of a ship. Not so much you’d get seasick, just curved lines and porthole shapes. Upscale. We ate local oysters, prawns, scallops, and steak. Cole knocked off another batch of fish and chips, while I savored three or four of those delicious Guinness pints. A great dinner was tarnished just a bit by our waitress Noreen’s significant overestimation of the standard tip.

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But hell, she probably deserved it. We’re not an easy bunch to serve, and at least one of us tends to be very loud.

You know who I are.

We finished the night with a walk. It was cool and breezy, and we started to relax, settling into our flow. I told the girls the local ghost story of The White Lady.

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We got a cab back to Waterlands and said goodnight.

At quarter past midnight our rented cell-phone started ringing. The tone was so unexpected it took us a minute or two to figure out what it could possibly be. In the meantime, it just kept getting louder and louder. And freaking louder.

Peg and Nicole were sure we’d awakened the whole house by the time I tried to whisper, “Hello.”

2 thoughts on “DOING CRAIC / IRELAND 2007/ PART 2-2

  1. Loved your description of Kinsale, Brent. It took me back a few years when my husband and I visited there. It looks a little more “spiffed up” now than it did then, but just as charming.

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