Ireland

My Ryanair flight sat on the ground for about four hours on the icy tarmac in Belgium. I was pretty stressed about getting to Ireland, but I read my copy of The Diary of Anne Frank. This gave me a healthy dose of perspective. I finally arrived in Dublin around midnight and caught the bus out to Shankill. My gracious hosts, Kara and Emer, waited outside the grocery store for me until about 1:15 am and then chased down the bus when it took off with my suitcase. We spent the following day wandering around Temple Bar, drinking cider and eating delicious Italian food. Kara and Emer introduced me to my latest food addiction: chocolate chip cookies from Marks & Spencer. Before I knew it, I was on the bus to Swinford.

It was either the best time or the worst time to arrive in Swinford. My cousin Claire’s friend Tara was celebrating her 21^st birthday in one of the pubs on the two main streets that make up this small Irish town. Every citizen of Swinford between age 18 and 24 was there, drinking and being merry. One of them was merry enough to greet me by licking my face. However, it was a very fun re-introduction to Swinford. I was shocked to see how old my cousin Jack looked. I had not seen him in about ten years. Of course, I always enjoy spending time with Claire and the rest of the McDonnell family.

Claire and I went to Limerick to attend an end-of-semester party at her friend Grainne’s. It turned out to be a pretty fun party even though it ended quite abruptly. Claire and Andrea and I went shopping in Limerick for Christmas presents. Limerick is a lively city with some cheeky youths. Although, I have to admit that my favorite part was chatting with Claire and Andrea during the car ride. We giggled a lot and came to some serious conclusions.

This winter was one of the coldest and snowiest in Ireland’s history. It was my first white Christmas ever and I spent it coughing and sneezing on the McDonnell’s couch. At least I got to watch a lot of bad TV from the other side of the pond. Santa brought me some nice little gifts, and I was touched. However, my favorite thing of Christmas in Ireland was all of John McDonnell’s stories. They always ended with “You can google it!” with an appropriate typing hand motion.