Going to Ireland with Karlos was awesome. Not long after we very first met, at the beginning of 2007, I went to a St Patrick's Day BBQ at his place and he spent most of the early evening making me laugh with his Irish accented 'potato joke.' Our close friends in NZ will know the 'potato joke' well, mostly for the fact that I am the only one that ever found it funny. And I really did - mostly because Karlos and his feigned Irish accent was just so darned endearing.
(Insert Irish accent here:)
"What's oval, dirty, and only has one toe?"
"A po-ta-toe!"
Dublin was our first stop - we came by car on the ferry from Liverpool - and found ourselves a youth hostel in the city centre so we didn't have to faff around with taxis to and from camping grounds. Karlos deserved to drink, not drive. This was Ireland! So we went to a pub right next door to our hostel, filled ourselves to bursting with Irish stew, and then wandered along The Temple Bar district and hopped in and out of many a pub. The Irish know how to have a good time, to be sure (to be sure).
We headed south on day two and stopped in a town called - Kilkenny.
We found a camping ground there - and wandered streets of buildings painted pink, yellow, green, blue, and met locals in pubs over pints of beer. The Irish accent filled our ears and was a treat to hear. Often we couldn't understand a bloody word they were saying - but it didn't often matter. We found a pub with an Irish band playing traditional favourites - we were about the only people in the bar who didn't know the words to sing along - but we jigged out with the best of them, none-the-less. Some lady got chatting to Karlos and I and told him he was lovely, and I was lovely and that he needs to look after me as ladys like me don't come around often. I was pretty happy about that. We both were. We got back to our camping ground rather late, and had another hilarious time trying to get the bed pumped and ready whilst half smashed.
We moved on again on day three - continuing south to Cork, as Karlos has family history in Co Cork, and stopped for lunch in a bagel cafe. Cork was a gorgeous town and, even though I don't often enjoy shopping, looked like a place I would love to come with a full wallet. We stopped in a furtniture store and we (mostly I) admired types of dining room table sets I would like us to buy when we get back to NZ and settle together.
As we sat in the sunshine eating our bagels, we were approached by an Irish man named... wait for it... Patrick! Who wanted to chat with us. We humoured him for some time, until our bagels had long been eaten, and watched him rush off and tell us 'give me two minutes,' before he came back with printed information on Charle Upham, a celebrated Kiwi who he had an interest in. It was very sweet, if a little - odd.
We arrived in Kilarney later that day and spent the next couple of days there. I just love Kilarney, and Karlos also has history in County Kerry, where Kilarney lies, so it was perfect. We spent an entire day walking through the Kilarney national park, through green fields, and past crystal clear lakes, and in between native trees - and lots of ferns! The countryside reminded us very much of NZ, in parts. After 4 hours walking, Karlos had "had enough," and so we retreated to the pub next to our camping ground, before spending the evening BBQing and watching the sun and misty night air descend on the mounatins flanking Kilarney. A wonderful place.
Car issues have been plaguing us. It appears our bargain 600 quid car has a leak - in the radiator, or cooling fluid tank, or something or other - Karlos has it all under control, and my job is to remain positive that 'keep topping it up with coolant' should do it. I'm sure it will be fine - the car still runs, and the temperature is stable - so we should still be able to drive it up to Scotland and back south again, before flogging it on to some unsuspecting car dealer.
And so, after another fun night spent back in Dublin, including a tour of the Jameson Distillery, and another evening spent in a youth hostel which taught me that I really have outgrown youth hostels these days - we boarded to carferry back to England, en route to Scotland, the next stop.
As each day goes by I am finding myself becoming a lot calmer and a lot happier. Days spent on the road, to come and go as we please, is having a wonderful affect on me, generally. I think about coming home to NZ a lot, what I plan to do in the future, and how I see myself settling down and so on. And I find myself excited, and full of passion life, more than ever. Shit really does happen - but life is what we make it.
Peace and love and fiddle-dee-dee from Ireland.
~ Comet xo
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