|Battling the wind on Maulin.|
I think one of the best things about Dublin is that CountyWicklow is right next door. “The Garden County,” full of rolling hills, sandy beaches, nice towns, and lots of outdoor activity potential, has been a major weekend destination for me over the years I’ve spent visiting and living in Dublin. Here are two recent weekends I spent there.
In the 1970s, Kev’s grandparents bought a holiday home in a little estate a couple of miles outside of Wicklow Town. It has since passed to Kev’s parents, and it’s where Kev was lucky enough to spend his summers growing up. Tennis and golf facilities are in walking distance, as is a beach, and lots of fields and cows. I’ve been down there twice, the second time being two weekends ago.
|Who needs a path?|
Back at the house we struggled but eventually succeeded at lighting a fire – I love peat briquettes! – and getting the TV to work for some serious late-afternoon lounging. Kev made a fancy pasta sauce from scratch (tasty, but too much cream), and we ate dinner while watching Taoiseach (Prime Minister) Enda Kenny’s speech at his party's (Fine Gael) national conference. (Then for dessert I put on "The Forsyte Saga.") We overate, read our books, and were generally very cozy. Lovely.
Sunday dawned gray and misty, but we went out for a walk anyways. Whenever you go for a walk with Kev, you somehow end up off the path and clinging to the long grass on the side of a cliff overhanging the pounding ocean below. For example, here we are in that situation the first time I visited the Wicklow house, in August 2011:
|Smiling through fear.|