Failte!

Traveling in Ireland, I’ve come to believe that some stereotypes are are just plain true – and that's not necessarily a bad thing. We had heard that the Irish were warm and welcoming folk and every day we have witnessed this firsthand in our interactions. It began with Sam who met me in the courtyard of St. Columba’s Church in Kells and proceeded to take me on a personalized tour in his car for an hour which included running to the town square to see if a large cross had been repaired (my original query), taking me above the town to the tower built as a folly in the 1800s for the elite to watch the hunt and races (which afforded an incredible view of 7 counties!) and then finally a tour of his farm that had been in his family for five generations. He even brought me into his kitchen to introduce this stray American he had picked up in the town to his wife and offered me a glass of Irish whiskey which I reluctantly accepted (so as to not offend) only after dousing it with water and 7-Up to make it a little more palatable for my non-drinker tastebuds. The next day it was Ann, the desk attendant that we unfortunately awoke at her home at 10:45 p.m. when we arrived in Killarney well past their closing at 6:00 p.m. She graciously got dressed, came and joked with us as she rather cheerily let us in to our apartment. The next morning we met Dermot O’Sullivan, the founder of O’Sullivan Cycling, who regaled us with biking tips, street humor, and colorful language. And that’s not to mention the singing waiter who buddied up next to me at the pub or the dog show prize winner who stopped and chatted with us for about twenty minutes in the parking garage or the man that helped me to get on the internet here. At every turn, we have found the people of Ireland to be exceptionally inviting, genuine and charming. If churches could be equally so, there would be far fewer empty pews.

I commented in Iona that I felt like I had ventured there as a Hospites Mundi (“Guest of the World”) and our stay in Ireland has only reinforced that for me. Everywhere you turn, you see the sign Failte which is Gaelic for “Welcome.” It's clear that this is far more than a way of marketing the quaint towns and villages that dot the landscape; it is a way of life for so many of the good-hearted people who have laid out the Failte mat for us so generously. I do, however, want to dispel one stereotype about the Irish and their love of drinking: there is not a pub on every corner – more often there are two or three (for real). Cheers!