I drank Guinness, walked in the rain – and then I was Irish!

Double Vision with Charlie Adley

Truly the Kingdom of Kerry is a magical place. I went to Killarney, drank a pint of Guinness, walked in the rain and the next day I was Irish. As I stroll the rain-sodden streets I wonder whether they chose this town for Citizenship Ceremonies because walking around Killarney is like being dropped into an essential oil of Irishness.

Strains of Wild Rover and Maggie permeate the dripping air.

What could be more Irish than the rain?

It rains soft rain and then it rains summertime rain, with huge wet drops that pierce your clothes as arrows through armour. It rains drizzly rain, and then it rains more wet-making rain, and then the wind picks up, lifting the wetness and turning it into sideways rain.

It rains all night and it rains all morning, all afternoon and evening.

Never mind your forty shades of green. Forget Eskimos and all their words for snow.

The Irish have as many for the rain.

Through the cardboard walls of my packed B&B I hear a family next door, also here for the ceremonies. Clearly excited, the adults transmit their exhilaration to their babies, who then need to be placated. Such is the negative soundproofing, it feels as if they’re actually in my bed.

There’s a power shower in the bathroom. This is Killarney and Americans demand it, but the complimentary soap is so tiny it actually fits inside my tummy button – such is the tireless research done for you by this colyoom.

Is this Ireland? A failed attempt to keep Americans happy?

The Full Irish breakfast is delivered by the same smiling Eastern European staff member who checked me in at reception yesterday. She brings me coffee instead of tea, and no butter for the toast, but her smile makes me happy.

Is this Ireland? An immigrant workforce making the best of a bad job?

To read Charlie’s column in full, please see this week’s Galway City Tribune.