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The National Famine Memorial was unveiled in 1997 to mark the anniversary of the Irish Famine.

taking, all in the same whisper. Winter clothes Ireland’s land- withstood a relentless history and, year-after-year, a bitter cli-
scape much differently than it would in the summer months. mate. As we say in the South, “that which does not kill us makes
We experienced the rigid winds, the soggy lands and even a us stronger.” An adage, we believe, the Irish discovered long
three-minute hail storm; however, without those, rainbows before the South. As travelers, we discovered that as Ireland’s
would have eluded us and those random pubs alongside the weather blows cold, the warm welcome never wanes.
road, well, we would have passed them by never seeking solace The country itself was our pot of gold. Each day, each
from the cold. Instead, we laughed and shared a pint with John stop, each story – added to the intangible wealth we soaked up
at the South Pole Inn in Annascaul, a bright blue two-story we in only a few short days. With all this, how could there be more?
would have never given a second thought about had it not been In fact, there was more. In northwestern Ireland in County Do-
for our innkeeper in Kenmare suggesting we stop. And so we negal, we finally squished the cheeks of our two Irish grandchil-
did. Even if we knew where we were headed, we asked direc- dren who will forever link us to the country of Ireland.
tions of the locals. And in doing so, we happened upon the shop
of Louis Mulcahy Pottery in Ballyferriter, all because we needed
coffee to warm our soul. His works of clay have been gifts to the
Pope and to presidents; now, his work is in my kitchen.
For all the harsh landscapes and realities, there’s dou-
ble the joy found in the people of Ireland who have gallantly

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