Irish Countryside Jauntings: A Day in County Wicklow

Since in Ireland they drive on the opposite side of the road, we decided to hire a driver for a jaunt out to the countryside instead of renting a car. (I still think this was a good idea, since I'd have gotten in about seventeen wrecks in the twenty miles, but Taylor thinks he can drive it now that he's seen it. Maybe we'll find out another time.) Our driver, Ciaran, picked us up at 9 a.m. and took us along the coast through Dalkey, a seaside resort where Michelle Obama has stopped to have a drink in a local pub and where the author Maeve Binchy used to drink as well. The theme of Ireland: drinking. 

Dublin isn't a very big city, so it didn't take very long until we were beyond the suburb and passing through fields full of fluffy sheep with black faces, en route to Glendalough in County Wicklow. It's famous for its scenery, including two beautiful lakes and a monastic site founded by St. Kevin and dating back to the tenth through twelfth centuries. 

You can hike through the park to two lakes, but as it was very cold and very windy we did not do this. No one else was up for the hike, either, as the park was almost empty. 

One of the most beautiful sites of the monastic settlement is the round tower, which has six stories connected by ladders; it was used as a bell tower and as a place of refuge during times of attack (including Viking attack!). 

Everywhere is so green even in December that it must be breathtaking in summer (though also, according to Ciaran, absolutely miserable with tourists). The countryside is also very clean--no McDonald's bags tangled in ditches here--and part of that is because there's a yearly nationwide competition for "Tidiest Town." (Can you tell I learned a lot of random trivia from Ciaran?) The towns all are committed to keeping their roads and landscapes clean and beautiful, and then every year there's one winner who gets bragging rights. As someone who enjoys Fabuloso and a good scrub very much, that's a competition I can get behind. 

But back to the monastic site in Glendalough...

From Glendalough, Ciaran took us to Powerscourt Estate, which also happens to be a Marriott hotel--duly noted for a future stay. The grounds have not only the huge hotel in a lovely woodland setting, but also gardens, shops, and a distillery. The gardens were started in 1731 and now include an Italian garden, a Japanese garden, and a pet cemetery, among other things. The estate looked like Mr. Darcy should be striding around, meditating on fine eyes and young women slighted by other men (I know he's British, but whatever).

The Japanese gardens!

The pet cemetery! I don't think these come back from the beyond, but I would like to meet Taffy Topaz the wire-hared dachshund if so.

Part of the state has been turned into shops, full of everything from cookies to risotto to cheese. 

Our last stop, after winding through many unpictured but quaint little villages (it's hard to take photos from a moving car), was a pub called Johnnie Fox's, established in 1798. It's one of the oldest pubs in Ireland and makes it own stout that Ciaran told us rivals Guinness. (Did you know that in Ireland doctors used to recommend pregnant women drink Guinness because it was a good way to get extra iron? Fun fact!)

Johnnie Fox's wasn't serving lunch yet, which was a little disappointing, but we had a drink and moved on. Like every other place in Dublin, it was absolutely dripping with Christmas decor and felt cozy and homey. 

Except for the foxes below--they were terrifying, not homey. 

After our long day of driving around, it was back to the hotel for a few drinks and then onward to a restaurant the driver recommended, Matt the Thresher. Michelle Obama also ate there! Either our driver was a big Michelle fan, or she loves Dublin and has been all around it. 

Matt the Thresher is a seafood place, so the Michelle picture was the most exciting part of the meal for me. Taylor, however, enjoyed his massive seafood platter while I had a burger. 

For dessert, I had an Eton Mess, which is smashed meringue with berries and cream (a deconstructed pavlova, basically). I do love learning about desserts I've never heard of, and this one originated in 1893 and is served as a tradition when Eton plays cricket against Harrow School. 

Next up--Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in Dublin, also known as "everything is shut down except Chinese restaurants."