The Green Green Grass of Home

The Green Green Grass 

A grande merci to all those who emailed and messaged me wondering where I had disappeared to from blogland - I was on holidays in the land of saints and scholars, the ole sod, the island of welcomes, home to  leprechauns and fairies, aye, that's right , that's right, we were in Ireland to be sure to be sure...

Although Ireland can be a victimised cliché and everyone likes to pigeon-hole a nationality ; the English are leery, the French are arrogant, the Germans, serious and straight and the Irish, well, they're all just friendly alcoholics, aren't they?

Whatever about the alcoholic label, it really did strike me just how friendly and lovely and helpful and open and chatty and , well, how un French the Irish people are. The recession may be the best thing that has ever happened to the Irish, with everyone making the most of it and helping each other out at every turn.

Preparing for Irish picnic

We had a fabulous fun filled time, despite the weather ( it rained every day) and  for food lovers like ourselves, we were in heaven. We dined out on fresh fish caught by ourselves nearly every day, leaves and floury spuds from the local markets, artisnal cheeses, home made chutneys and jams and breads washed down with some divine Domaine Treloar wine that we brought from France ... and then there was the craic..

Another grande merci to the Mammy , the Mammy in law and all the friendly alcoholics that made it so special. What a country!
At the end of the day : Níl aon tinteán mar do thinteán féin!

Slainte!