When Irish Eyes are Smiling.

Tomorrow morning Jon and I embark on an eight day driving excursion to Ireland. The country of my ancestors! I am a European mutt of mainly Irish, English and German, but it was the Irish in me that was fueled with pride as a child. It was the Irish folk-songs that were sung to me. Saint Patty’s Day warranted cards with a few dollars in them from my grandparents. When meeting strangers I was asked on numerous occasions, “You are Irish, aren’t you? I can tell by your skin tone.”

This trip is like a tribute to where my family comes from. To my identity. To the O’Halloran, Murphy, and O’Leary names in my family tree. It has long been dreamed of and not just by me. My mother has dreamed of Ireland for years. Sadly, she would have joined us if my grandmother were not in ill health.

My grandmother may have dreamed of Ireland as well. It was she that instilled the Irish pride into us, even though she is not Irish but instead of the Jackson family. It was her late husband, my mother’s father, that was a Holloran. But that pride ran deep and my wonderful grandmother has kept it alive for us.

We are taking a ferry from Liverpool to Belfast with a brief stopover at the Isle of Man. We will be in Northern Ireland by the evening. We are going to work our way counter-clockwise around the island until we end in Dublin and ferry from there to Wales.

My goal is to post every night, given access to internet. There will be tons of great photos and hopefully some fun anecdotes about a pregnant woman (me) trying to kiss the Blarney Stone.


Check out Lonely Planet Ireland – the only travel guide that interests us! If you haven’t noticed by now, we love Lonely Planet.


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