A little backstory here—over the past few years, our nanny, Mary P., has encouraged Kid 1.0's belief in Lucky o'Leprechaun, who is now a presence in our house around St. Patrick's Day. So when K1.0 found out Daddy was headed for Ireland, she was adamant that he find Lucky and visit with him.
Now, I'm going to share Tom's email to me from his first day in No. Ireland. After a layover in Amsterdam, his flight arrived early in the day, so he had planned to rent a small car, and drive up to the northern coast to do some sightseeing, combating the jet lag until he could check into his hotel later in the afternoon.
I hope you enjoy this as much as I did. He has a great sense of humor!
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Subject: Where's the Leprechaun?
Arrived in Amsterdam. My sinuses are trashed from the flight. I ought to carry a nasal spray or something for relief. At least a hanky. I had a good seat on the flight: center rows with no one sitting next to me. The plane was a newer airbus with all the bells and whistles. I could view movies in the back of the seat in front of me. I watched "Hancock", "Incredible Hulk", and "Batman Begins". I guess I had a superhero thing going on. It was a relatively smooth flight and uneventful.
I picked up a Michael Crichton book and switched between that and "Software by Numbers" when I wasn't watching a movie. No sleep of course. Aside from my sinuses, I feel pretty good for just having been on a plane for nine hours. The Amsterdam Airport is socked in with fog. It's early morning now. The first thing that hit me when I got off the plane was that everything was in English. All signage. All voices over the PA system. Everything. If it weren't for the fact that everything is priced in Euros, I probably wouldn't know this airport from Seattle's. They actually are laid out in a very similar fashion with the gigantic food court in the middle and the radiating arms.
Actually there is one thing that would tip you off to the fact that you aren't in the good old US of A anymore: tulips. All of the kiosks have racks and racks of tulips and other flower bulbs for sale. Go into the bookstore: tulips. Go into the duty free store: tulips. Get a coffee and a newspaper: tulips. I think I've found the next big speculative bubble—everything that's old is new again...
I'm awaiting my next flight across the channel to Ireland. I think it's going to be in a turboprop. Propellers...wow, how 1950's. Of course if oil prices keep going the way they have been, we may all be pedalling from our seats. My sinuses are starting to feel a little better now. I'm going to go hunt down some coffee.
[cut to landing in Ireland]
The stewardess offered me coffee, poured it, then informed me that it would cost 2 pounds! That's about a 4 dollar cup of joe (no cream, no sugar). I don't think even Starbucks charges that much for drip coffee! I passed on the tiny bag of pretzels - my wallet couldn't take the pounding. All instructions on the plane were given in English and Gaelic. At least I think it was Gaelic...or a German with a bad head cold. Hard to say.
I survived the inspection in customs and promptly rented a car. When I show up at the lot, the car they gave me was a brand new Land Rover with a leather interior and so many bells and whistles that it blew the mind. And I only had the minimal insurance policy for this urban assault vehicle (it's bigger than anything we drive). I would much rather have had the subcompact that I had ordered. Then a lady runs out into the lot, stops me before I can leave and tells me that I have the wrong car. That's OK though, I still hadn't figured out how to navigate out of the parking lot yet. I thought they were going to give me the subcompact, but no, they gave me ANOTHER Rover!
Anyway, after that little circus, I screwed up enough courage to venture out onto the roads, where I promptly got lost. Rather than read a map or ask for directions, I did the only thing a real man can do in that situation—I pointed the bow of my Irish Party Barge northward and tried not to hit anyone. I figured that Ireland is a small country. How hard could it be to find the Giant's Causeway? I'll just keep driving until I reach the sea, then either go left or right.
I missed the Giant's Causeway on my first pass, but I ended up at Dunluce (Done Lucy) castle (dunluce.jpg, coast.jpg). It was really cool. The weather cooperated and I got some great pictures.
I was the only person there. I got to climb all over the ruins like a deranged archeologist. I thought that a castle like that might be the kind of place leprechauns might hang out in, so I started looking (looking.jpg, noluck.jpg).
I searched high and low (hi.jpg, low.jpg). I thought I could hear a little person laughing at me. Tell the girls I'm doing my best.
Finally I decided to call it a day and head back to Belfast.
I found my hotel and got myself all situated. However I may have a stowaway from Castle Dunluce. I heard more of that tiny laughter. I checked under my bed (bed.jpg) but I couldn't find him anywhere (clueless.jpg). I feel like I'm being watched. Maybe the girls can look at my photos and see if they can find anything...I need all the help I can get.
Oh well, totally fried and headed for bed now (If the tiny laughter will stop).
Love,
Tom
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So, I read the relevant parts of the story to the girls, and showed them the pictures...K1.0 could hardly contain herself she was so excited that Daddy has a stowaway leprechaun. And she's convinced that the little bits of green vegetation in the picture of Tom with the bench are actually leprechaun footprints!
Love to all!
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