Ireland. To many non-Irish a blessed Middle-earth style shire landscape with a soundtrack of fiddles and flutes.
Riverdancing strawberry blondes pour Guinness to thirsty travelers in an old village's inn.
Steaming stews with sodabread fills bellies of rugged walkers who crossed the cliffs of Moher with their faithful setters.
Irish Draughts galloping over green meadows, past Blarney castle who tells stories about maidens' kisses and long lost vows of eternal love.
Celtic crosses, druid spells, the Boyne valley whispers the tale of Étaíne and the ancient hills of Tara.
In Dublin a streetlamp lit at dusk lights up 1 Marrion Square. And the humour and wit that comes with the ticket names its owner the "The Queer with the Leer".
From past to present the strong Irish folk have proved lore is what keeps one alive. In hardships and laughs you find an unbendable spirit, in their word-games you may find the truth.
Ireland - a place for strong souls to merge and connect with some secrets on earth.
"Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home" - thank you Joyce, wise words I admit, but now Temple bar calls for a rum.
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