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This June we led a tour of Ireland and Scotland and throughout, our eyes and hearts were smiling. Ireland is a lush and lovely land. Its people remarkably kind and its history compellingly conflicted. Our group oohed and ahed our way through the Emerald Island bemused by its splendor and its aches.

Our tour began in southernmost Ireland, in the city of Cork. After greeting our group with hugs and kisses we were off to the Blarney Castle to kiss the Blarney Stone. Climbing ten stories to the top of the castle, each of us leaned over backwards and smooched the recently cleaned stone wall behind us. Welcome to Ireland! 

Ireland is an island in the North Sea. We soon discovered the geological and romantic aspects of its identity. We drove out and along one of Ireland’s many peninsulas and encountered the Cliffs of Moher. Here we beheld the results of water and rock meeting together. Equals yet opposites, together land and sea made these cliffs of sheer beauty. 

Our destination that day was another peninsula, aptly named Clifden. We drove through the charming city of Galway and walked its pub lined streets and some of us downed a local favorite; oysters and Guinness. Our coach bus traversed the undulating green landscape speckled with white sheep and lambs. Upon arriving at our overnight accommodations on bounded our host for the evening. Ronan and his family were the proprietors of the Abbey Glenn Castle and invited us to enter its crenelated walls as kith and kin. At the champaign welcome we all did feel a bit royal. 

The following morning we were off to encounter the rich heritage of Ireland. First stop was the Clonmacnoise Monastery. This indomitable community has endured a dozen sackings at the hands of Vikings over a period of 300 years and continued to rebuild and offer hospitality to travelers over the ages. We were the most recent pilgrims and found its now broken walls still a haven for reflection and rest. 

Our next stop was the much heralded National Stud Farm. Here we were treated to a tour of the elegant thoroughbreds who race and win the most esteemed races in the world. Our whimsical guide jockeyed us through the paddocks and pastures as we were able to grasp the intricacies and thrill of this countrywide passion. 

Later that afternoon we entered the much anticipated city of Dublin. Home of literary and musical legends we settled into our digs then headed to the pubs of Temple Bar. This is the city whose heroes are known simply by one name; Bono, Joyce, Wilde and Swift. This and other nights we were treated to live music that seems to be playing in every establishment we passed and at the one where we ate. It made for a bit of shouting over our bangers and mash but the revelry was enticing.

The next day was a walkabout in downtown Dublin. Smack dab in the center of the city is Trinity College, expertly hid behind unassuming walls. We felt like overawed freshmen as we traipsed across the quad where its famous alumni once walked. One of the most splendid structures ever built is the Long Hall Library of Trinity. Perhaps you have seen it in a Harry Potter movie. It is half the length of a football field, rising fifty feet to an arched roof. From floor to ceiling are rows and rows of books beautifully bound in leather. Breathtaking. Stupefying. Awe-inspiring! 

On a more pedestrian level we settled our spirits on the other side of town at the Guinness Brewery. Here we made a self-guided tour and ascended to the 7th floor where we were rewarded with a pint of the dark stout. Informed and enlightened we toasted to the skyline of Dublin. 

Walking the streets earlier in the day we spotted adverts for that night’s production of the musical, ‘West Side Story’. Sarah and I jumped online and acquired a set of tickets for that night’s performance. Although the play is set in the slums of New York City, it’s storyline of the tragic conflict between the Sharks and the Jets was an entrée for our next day’s journey to Northern Ireland.

Nowadays the border between Ireland and Northern Ireland is seamless. And the results of the 1998 Good Friday Accords continue to bode well, but the tension of the Unionists and Nationalists continues to simmer. We checked into the elegant Europa Hotel in Belfast, as our guide mentioned with an aside it was the most bombed hotel in the city! Our first trek in the morning was aboard a Black Taxi Tour of West Belfast.  Each cab held five passengers and was driven by a local who had lived through ‘The Troubles’. 

It was an eye opening experience to drive into their neighborhoods and stop at the memorials of their friends slain over the 30 years of bloodshed. We passed along the famous murals of Falls Road and the flag bedecked Sankill neighborhood. Our driver’s name was Paul who was Catholic and hoping and praying his children’s generation would continue to find the ways of living in peace with their protestant neighbors. 

Belfast is also famous for another sad memory, the Titanic. In the slip where she was built now stands a state of the art museum that interprets not only its fatal maiden voyage but also the thousands of laborers who built the behemoth. Belfast was a shipyard and linen manufacturing center. It was industrial and intricate at its core. Both activities have long gone.

One final stop on our Hibernian trek was a visit to the birthplace of one of my heroes - C.S. Lewis. There were five other like minded fans who hailed a taxi from the sober Titanic Museum into the first ring suburbs of East Belfast. We stepped out of the taxis and into a park that recreated the key characters of Narnia in metallic statues. There to greet us were Aslan, Mr. Tumnus and the White Witch. 

As a gentle rain began to fall we made our way to 47 Dundelea Road, the site of Lewis’ birthplace. Unfortunately it was demolished and replaced with a two story apartment. However, a blue plaque marked the location of the home where this imaginative writer came into the world and breathed joy and faith into the souls of millions. 

In many ways our journey to Ireland was like stepping into the wardrobe of Narnia. Both are magical lands filled with conflict and yearning for peace. They alike are places of contradictions and consolations. We departed the next morning on a ferry crossing over to Scotland. We stood at the railing looking back on a land that brought us much wonder and hopes of a return.