CAA Manitoba Spring 2016 | Page 49

the National Museum of Ireland. The landscape is so dense with history that I’m afraid to blink for fear of missing anything. In fact, Dublin is so hypnotic that it’s a full two hours into our tour before I realize it’s been raining the entire time. Which brings me to another interesting point: It rains in Ireland...a lot. And it’s on the cold side. And it’s like that most of the time. From the moment I stepped off the plane and into the airport, I knew I had underpacked. The Irish wind whips through three layers of fabric and digs into my skin like a frightened cat. Even though it was May and already in the 20s back home, the average temperature during my time in Ireland was about 7°C. According to my driver Liam, temperatures very rarely reach 20°C—even in the middle of summer. Considering that it’s rained for a little more than three full days of my five in the country, I was starting to wonder if, on paper at least, Ireland might not Grabbing a pint at Dublin’s Temple Bar be the ideal destination for me. But then the sun comes out. And when it does (for me, on the road between Killarney and Galway), the true magic of Ireland reveals itself. The quality of sunlight in Ireland simply defies description. Dewdrops on grass blades shine with such clarity that you could count them from 50 metres away. Pastures and perfectly aligned cows give way to hilltop crosses and rugby pitches. Castle ruins from the first century stand watch over the modern towns that now claim them as landmarks. As I begin to tear up at the beauty of it all, a single word sounds inside my head: “Home.” OVER THE COURSE of my five days in Ireland, I am fortunate enough to enjoy some incredible expe