Rick Steves Is Wrong About Killarney
I don’t care what Rick Steves says about Killarney. To quote him directly: “Killarney (Ireland): This is a place where most tourists wear nametags — a traffic jam of tour buses. If you have the misfortune to spend the night in Killarney, you'll understand what I mean. The town is a sprawling line of green Holiday Inns and outlet malls littered with pushy shoppers looking for plastic shamrocks.”
Rick, I don’t know what side of the bed you got up on when you wrote that, but you obviously don’t know your shamrock from a bowl of shite. Get up and see the real Killarney. Take some time to know the people. Have a Guiness or four. And believe in the fairies!
And I promise you, you will fall in love with the place just like I did over 53 years ago.
Killarney and Ireland forever!
pexels-design-diva-1056406356-30669212.jpg
I don’t care what Rick Steves says about Killarney.
To quote him directly: “Killarney (Ireland): This is a place where most tourists wear nametags — a traffic jam of tour buses. If you have the misfortune to spend the night in Killarney, you'll understand what I mean. The town is a sprawling line of green Holiday Inns and outlet malls littered with pushy shoppers looking for plastic shamrocks.”
Rick, I don’t know what side of the bed you got up on when you wrote that, but you obviously don’t know your shamrock from a bowl of shite. Get up and see the real Killarney. Take some time to know the people. Have a Guiness or four. And believe in the fairies!
And I promise you, you will fall in love with the place just like I did over 53 years ago.
Killarney and Ireland forever!
***
by Edmund O'Rourke
By Killarney's lakes and fells,
Em'rald isles and winding bays,
Mountain paths, and woodland dells
Memory ever fondly strays;
Bounteous nature loves all lands;
Beauty wanders everywhere
Footprints leaves on many strands,
But her home is surely there.
Angels fold their wings and rest
In that Eden of the west,
Beauty's home, Killarney,
Ever fair--Killarney.
Ireland Taught Me To Love Myself
Ireland Taught Me To Love Myself
Apr 2
Ireland was the perfect teacher. She taught me how to love myself - to be proud of myself.
I began my adventure there as a recent college graduate along with my best friend, Marygrey, in the summer of 1972.
We started out green in a lush green land - so eager to please, yet so naive.
Our British employer at Ballyseede Castle in Tralee, Mrs. Devlin, was not impressed. Not with our American short skirts, our friendly American attitudes, nor our self-preserving laughter when times got tough. She grew tired of our determination to stay, called us "not suitable," and fired us after only three weeks.
It took the rest of the summer for us to become "expedient" as silver service waitresses (a simple bow will do, a big smile won't), but we persevered and found better jobs at the Aghadoe Hotel in Killarney. It was under the professional tuteledge of Dennis, the German maitre'd there, that we came into our own as valued employees and gained the courage to follow our dreams.
By the time our Visas expired (sadly), we'd become Ireland-savvy, self-confident, and proud. I finally loved myself for who I was, thanks to Mother Ireland and all she taught me.
Ireland was the perfect teacher. She taught me how to love myself - to be proud of myself.
I began my adventure there as a recent college graduate along with my best friend, Marygray, in the summer of 1972.
We started out green in a lush green land - so eager to please, yet so naive.
Our British employer at Ballyseede Castle in Tralee, Mrs. Devlin, was not impressed. Not with our American short skirts, our friendly American attitudes, nor our self-preserving laughter when times got tough. She grew tired of our determination to stay, called us "not suitable," and fired us after only three weeks.
It took us the rest of the summer to become "expedient" as silver service waitresses (a simple bow will do, a big smile won't), but we persevered and found better jobs at the Aghadoe Hotel in Killarney. It was under the professional tutelage of Dennis, the German Maitre'd there, that we came into our own as valued employees and gained the courage to follow our dreams.
By the time our Visas expired (sadly), we'd become Ireland-savvy, self-confident, and proud. Thanks to Mother Ireland and all she taught me, I finally loved myself for who I was.