We are lucky enough to be in Wexford, Ireland for a week over New Year’s, thanks to our friends, Jimmy and Emily Day. Jimmy is a racehorse trainer originally from here. We arrived in winds gusting to fifty miles-an-hour, knowing we’d have to go on to Manchester if we didn’t get down on our first pass. A big plane and a super pilot combined to bring us down safely, thank goodness.
Jimmy’s ten brothers and sisters, their spouses and his parents have all dedicated this holiday week to making sure we experience Irish hospitality and come home five pounds fatter. I thought I was pretty good at saying “no,” but it is just not a word that gets across – your pint is magically refilled, your “spot” of Jameson’s Irish whiskey replenished, your plate heaped with ham, turkey, cranberry sauce, potatoes, Brussels sprouts, broccoli, peas, homemade soda bread etc. Desserts are in the middle of the table; a cake as yet untouched, yesterday’s trifle, and the day-before-yesterday’s Christmas pudding. Oh, and a double-crust apple pie! All are urged on you. The pudding requires a dousing with some Irish whiskey to “cut the sweetness.”
The trouble is, if you stop eating you are literally ruining your hosts’ pleasure – you can see the disappointment in their faces. Our strategy for surviving all this eating is to walk walk walk walk walk walk, and this is the perfect place to do it. Wexford is on the southeast coast, and the country lanes lead over the slight hills and down to marshes and the sea. This area is the sunniest in Ireland, and already, in addition to lashing rain, drizzle and high winds we have also had two days of sunshine.
The secret of this part of Ireland is that it never gets a hard frost, and as a result right now the grass is lush and green, perfect grazing for horses and cows. Rhododendron are not far from blooming, and a palmetto is thriving in Jimmy’s parents, Florrie and Jim’s, backyard. The county lanes are flanked with stonewalls with the top stones spiked upwards. They are usually overgrown by ivy with fist-sized roots, gorse, and creeping vines that form windbreaks for the animals on the other side of the fence. Often they are so high you can’t see over them.
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