Guinness!!!

Today I finally had a glass of Guinness. I have been craving it since my yummy taste of Guinness at the Brewery in DUBLIN BABY!! Anywho, I've had Guinness before, liked it, yummy, move on. But man oh man is it different in Ireland and it's even better fresh from the Brewery. It was like a cold glass of refreshing water but Guinness yumminess instead.
I miss Ireland. I can't even really explain it. Yes the country was beautiful, the rich history, and the people were great. But I didn't make lifelong friendships or anything with some real Irish people. I just miss it. I really feel as if something, a part of me belongs there. I felt totally at ease walking hand-in-hand with my fellow Irish husband down the streets of Dublin, Cork, Killarney, and Galway( he is not as Irish as I am...the truth is we are both very German..like so German we're from the same Jewish group of people in Germany "Ashkenazic") . Maybe it was because we had just been bitten by the world-traveling bug and we settled in easily.  But I really think it was the country.
Brand and I have been dreaming our whole lives to go to Ireland. We separately had a dream to visit this beautiful country and together we got to experience that dream. That was really special. Even walking around Paris was great and I was so excited to be in the city of love with my love (kissing under the Eiffel tower was beyond surreal and romantic) and it was great for those four hours but Ireland felt almost like home. Like if God told me to pack up everything and move to Ireland...I think I could do it. Not because I wouldn't miss my family, my home, American TV, driving on the right side of the road, or Taco Bell (or any Mexican food for that matter...Ireland needs to get with it). But because it would make sense. It feels right.
I felt this when I was in a pub in Dublin watching the England vs. Ireland Rugby match. The pub was beautiful and filled with people (standing room only) cheering on their fellow Irishmen who were playing mere miles away at the stadium in Dublin. I was standing, drinking my pint of Guinness of course, listening to everyone join in singing a traditional Irish song when I realized how much I loved the place. This was our second to last night and it really hit me that I was in the country of my dreams. Amazing chocolate, my pick of violent sports (hello Gaelic football), and a diet made up of lamb, beef, potatoes, and Guinness...its no wonder I'm so drawn there. (Just then I actually put "here" instead of "there", guess I got swept away and was dreaming I was back in Ireland).
I think another thing that made me fall in love with the country was Kilmainham Gaol in Dublin. This was our last day in Dublin and we had to see it. We walked an hour and finally found it and it was totally worth it. The Blarney castle, the Cliffs of Moher, and Christchurch Cathedral were all awesome and wonderful and unforgettable but Kilmainham Gaol (Gaol=Jail) touched me deeply. We learned about how the Irish persevered through many failed revolutions and of course the famine. I felt connected to these people. I thought that if I was faced with famine or the choice to flee to America, which would I choose? Would I choose to send my children to steal so that they'd have a bed at the jail? Or would I try and be honest but risk starving? I felt the connection with the revolutionaries. As they continued to fight (and lose) against the British for their rights. Being within feet where they were executed was surreal. Being in the chapel where one was married ten minutes before he was executed was heartbreaking and then visiting the wife's cell of that revolutionary where she would live after her own political protests and to see the painting of the Virgin Mary and baby Jesus in her cell was breathtaking. I...love...these...people. They were true underdogs, just like US (see what I did there?), and then finally gaining their independence from England. No wonder I love them so much!
I will go there again. Maybe when Brand and I have raised our children. Maybe when we're old and wrinkly. We'll go back. It'll be different. We won't be walking an hour to get to that jail. We won't be running to see the sights of the majestic cliffs. Maybe we'll never come back. Maybe we'll settle in one of the quaint Irish homes, take up the harp, and drink Irish tea anytime we want. I don't care really, as long as we get back there...because I'm running out of Moro bars, they don't sell Cadbury Mint Crisps here, and I'm sorry but the Guinness truly flows much better in Ireland...