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| No, this is not photoshopped! |
June:
the end of school, the season of sunflowers here in Spain, and the fin
de curso de baile for Tia, Sasha and me.
Oh, and wait…the caracoles are here (every restaurant in town has a sign
announcing them). They are for sale on
the street, climbing around happily until they get dumped (like lobsters and
crabs) into a vat of boiling broth. I’m
not much of a fan, but the Andalucians love them!
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| Delectable slimyness |
And of course, it’s the start of summer
vacation. I have always wanted to visit
Ireland, that emerald isle with the saucy attitude, the verdant hillsides, and
its tragic history. I know a good number
of Irish immigrants in California—fun-loving and quick-witted the lot. Since doing the research on our palace, my
interest has only been whetted, given the interesting and unexpected connection
between my beloved Spain and this very different island to the northwest:
Although still not verified scientifically, the Kings of Spain believed
strongly enough that the Irish people shared deep roots with Galician sailors
and warriors that they granted the Irish immigrants full rights as citizens
during the 18th and 19th centuries.
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| Irish country lass |
Even though the girls’ school didn’t end
until June 22nd, we flew off to Dublin on June 13th to
meet Suzi and Ethan and the boys to toodle through the lush green (and cold!)
countryside of Western Ireland. Renting
a beach cottage in County Clare just a short drive from the famous Cliffs of
Moher, we explored the coast while helping each other avoid head-on
collisions—driving on the wrong side of the road is nothing if not
attention-grabbing!
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| Looking westward |
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| This is also not photoshopped! |
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| Close to the edge |
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| This made Daddy a little uptight |
After the Cliffs of Moher (spectacular
drops on the West coast down to a gray Atlantic), we swung through County
Kerry, lunching in Tralee and passing through the village of Dingle before
returning via Bunratty Castle for a medieval banquet.
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| Imposing fortress |
Everything was perfect, dining while
listening to the harmonies of 15th-century choir songs, until Ado
said he didn’t feel so good halfway through the ribs. By the time we got out to the cars, all those
medieval ribs were coming back up the poor little guy.
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| Bunratty minstrels |
Click here to see the Bunratty Singers in action!
But by the next day he recovered, and we
headed out to Limerick to St. John’s castle, and on to Dublin. A fairy-tale dinner was the next event,
sharing the strong Irish tradition of storytelling and magic of this shamrock,
leprechaun, fairy tree, Blarney-stone-infused culture.
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| Castle of St. John |
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| Ghosts and leprechauns |
But by the end, Suzi didn’t feel so
good. Nor did Tia. Looks like it wasn’t the ribs, after all, but
a stomach virus that laid half of us low!
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| In the dungeon |
We hung out in our little Dublin apartment,
the healthy ones continuing to cruise the city, the sickies resting and
recuperating. I got my fill of fish-n-chips
for the year, and Guinness was, of course, the drink of choice.
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| Irish wisdom |
And then back to Spain we went. I had a performance with my flamenco teacher,
Noelia, in Peña El Chumi. Ho, hum! This is getting so common that none of my
family showed up to see my next 10 minutes of fame on a stage. So here it is for you!
Click here to see me dance...aaaaaagain...
Much more interesting, I should say, was
the Fin de Curso event for Tia and Sasha’s dance class (as well as mine) with
our teacher Lola de Cai. Tia and Sasha
have far surpassed me now in flamenco, dancing an alegria and a garrotin. I, for my part, danced a hilarious tanguillo
complete with the traditional Cádiz fishwife outfit, and then of course
strutted my bulerias skills in the fin de fiesta.
Click here to see me as a fishwife from Cádiz
Click here to see Tia and Sasha dance the garrotin
We packed a lot into these few short days before
leaving on our next adventure: Crete!
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| Sunflower selfie |
