“To be Irish is to know that in the end the world will break your heart.” - Patrick Moynihan

Friday was travel day of my very last family vacation. On someone else's dime anyway. So we hopped a plane from Jacksonville to Philadelphia, and then Philadelphia to Dublin, and then a bus from Dublin to Derry. Or Londonderry if you're British. Or Protestant. 

I shall graciously screech my blog to a halt for a brief history lesson. After King James I "conquered" Ireland (bully to you, Mr. King, when all they'd had to eat for years were potatoes [COINCIDENTALLY did you know that potatoes actually originated from South America? They did. In what is now Colombia, people started growing them about 7000 years ago, and they didn't make it to Europe until the Colombians started stomping through Peru, who took the potatoes to Europe in the mid-1500s.]), he started dishing out Irish land to English people who had no land, and needed some on which to sow their seeds. So, they were planted in Ireland, in an event that you can google called the Planting of Ulster. Long story (about 800-1000 year long, actually) short, the Irish and the English, who were Catholic and Protestant, respectively, fought and fought and fought. Are there any wars that AREN'T over land and religion? Sheesh. Eventually Ireland liberated (most of) itself in 1919 after a guerrilla army called the Irish Republican Army, which is still in existence today and aren't the nicest people, rose up against the British forces. All but six counties were liberated, making the Republic of Ireland, and Northern Ireland, which is still technically part of Great Britain. Those six counties are referred to as Ulster, and are: counties Derry, Antrim, Down, Armagh, Tyrone, and Fermanagh. The IRA would, of course, like those six counties back, but after the "Good Friday Agreement" in 1998 (which I won't detail because I don't know much about) the fighting has calmed down for the most part. It's really very interesting, and worth looking up if you like history. I suggest googling the Easter Uprising, the IRA, the Orangemen, and Sinead O'Connor's version of The Foggy Dew to get you started.  Here's a map!

I'm currently in Derry, and I certainly don't feel like there is a war going on. There are, however, different street corners and neighborhoods that have painted the curbs in blue, white, and red, and fly the Union Jack, and other neighborhoods boasting orange white and green. Often, when you see signs for Londonderry, someone has scribbled out the "London" part. In years gone by, when I've headed over to Donegal to the beach, I've had to stop at checkpoints  as I cross the border and declare all manner of things. There are no checkpoints now, though, and markedly less car bombs. Back to my trip! 

We actively traveled for 13 hours, and waited in airports and bus stations for another 4. But then I fell asleep in my Granny's house, and woke up to family, and it was lovely. Yesterday, we headed over to Rathmullen, where some of my uncles were racing their sailboats in the regattas. Just another summer's day in Ireland. 

Literally my whole family is in shorts and t-shirts, and that's how I'm dressed. But then I visited my aunt and saw THIS VIEW which made all the cold worth it. Would you ever leave your house if this was what you saw? 

If you look extremely closely, you can see two sailboats on the water, one being my Uncle John's, and the other being my Uncle Paschal's. No, I don't know which one, I can barely see them.

This morning I woke up early and went for a light jog/walk with my mom, and was very happy to see this...

... but very UNHAPPY to have to trudge up this. 

I have yet to have anything from my granny and grandad's fish and chip shop, as it's probably around 900 calories a meal, so I'm holding out, but I can't wait. I'll be spending another regatta day today on that bouncy inflatable boat, and praying that it doesn't rain, which is hilarious, because it's never NOT raining here. The rain is even beautiful though, it's like standing under the misters at Disney World, only less weird. 

After I freeze to death on the boat, maybe I'll sit here in my grandad's garden, where the grass is softer than any carpet I've seen, and have a drink. 

Slainte!