Art Tea

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Certainly, this trip to Ireland has seen more consecutive days of tea-time than I have ever experienced in my life. The Irish conviviality and hospitality are inherent in traditions that surround the ceremony at every turn. At least once a day, sometimes two (or three!) we have shared tea. Simple tea in a pub. Artsy, at the local craft village. Quaint, at Turnip House Tea Room in the countryside and leisurely at the B&B in Donegal. But today's tea party takes the cake...quite literally.

Art Tea at The Merrion 5 star hotel is reputedly the most lavish afternoon tea in Dublin. Here, one is treated to a slice of 19th or 20th-century art served on fine china with miniature sweet creations inspired by the work of J.B Yeats, William Scott, Louis Le Brocquy and others.

Our first course consisted of a tiered selection of savories, sweets and scones to go with our selected teas. The accompanying clotted cream and lemon curd we lavished in dollops atop. Next came the confections created by the pastry chef to represent selected works from the largest private collection of art in Ireland, which hangs in the hotel. Not only were the desserts works-of-art themselves, they were also exquisite culinary delights.

We somehow managed lick the spoons clean (in the most ladylike way possible).

And once we had exhausted our supply of accoutrements, we asked to tote the remaining scones home for tomorrow's tea. Even the take-away bag from this grand high tea was resplendent with an aura of doing whatever one does in the most beautiful way possible. We drank deeply of this cup. Ahhhhhh, good to the last drop!

Another Day in Paradise

It seems that I could twirl three hundred sixty degrees in any given spot with the shutter clicking away and every resulting shot becoming a breath-taking photo. Anyone else ever felt that absorbing an overdose of beauty actually hurt? Were those really tears inching down my cheeks as I captured the countryside in the low-light of the day when the cows and sheep were going home and purple clouds were shifting in the sky? Does anyone else ponder what we discussed as we, too, headed home from our day...the question of whether a joyful experience has to be shared in order to be fully absorbed. Why debate that issue when I can be enjoying these vistas all over again by selecting from the gazillion a few to share.

.....another day in paradise, shared.

Heather on the Hills

I am totally spoiled (and liking it a lot). Breakfast overlooking the Irish Sea before a day of adventure. 

Powers Court, up in the hills where the heather is blooming, is an old family estate (probably a first cousin to Downton Abby...and actually mentioned in the series) that is now maintained as a group of shops, formal gardens, retail hub of Avoca, the last (or is it largest?) woolen mill in the world and, of course, a tea room. Every, positively every public building has a tea room. Flowers, flowers everywhere. Never have I seen so many varieties of hydrangeas.

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Driving higher above the treeline, we came upon what looked like a page out of Heidi. One could see for miles, endless green and hillsides dotted with grazing sheep. Banks of clouds showed off, rolling into big purple masses that ushered in a shower, and then dissapated into docile white fluff. Sunbeams poked through and turned droplets of rain into sparkle on everything. This went on intermittently all day. Umbrellas up. Umbrellas down. Umbrellas up. Umbrellas down. 

On the other side of the mountain, we explored the site of an eleventh century monastery and cemetery where monks served and sought to convert the population, even as they forded off the attacks of the Normans, (thus the tower that looks like Rapunzle's). Juggling cameras, raincoats, spare socks, brochures and emergency chocolate a sense of serendipity washed over us on the drive back to Dublin when a rainbow crowned our day. It was all quite a display of God's splendor.

One more delight came in the form of the Thursday night sailing classes that swirled right outside the apartment windows. There are sometime several hundred  boats all bunched in their own little classes doing a kind of choreography as they maneuver in a circular pattern (literally "learning the ropes", I suspect.) Those are my wonderful hosts on the observation deck. I heartily recommend this "bed & breakfast".

Ireland Acclimating

My youngest child, not to mention any names, advised me to warn the friend I am visitng in Ireland, that if I have a little quiet in the morning with my coffee, things go better for everyone the rest of the day. Laurie must have taken that quip as a word to the wise because she met me early at the Dublin terminal with a cup of coffee in hand. Yes! This is going to be a good adventure, indeed. 

Determined to not succumb to jet lag, we had tea, (of course) which can mean, by the way, anything from or in between:

-a two o'clock lunch-type meal crowned with tea

-an early supper (high tea) not to be confused with dinner

-or a traditional savories, pastries, scones lulling-tea

Then we did an around-town 3 mile walk to get the lay of the land, starting with Laurie and Rob's backyard overlooking the Irish Sea. Their apartment balcony is on the top floor balcony on the right. Cool crisp breezes and wonderful perennials everywhere. 

 The hydrangeas are in full bloom-mostly in the white and pink hues-with some bushes bearing multiple-colored blooms. Up and down the winding paths we traipsed, past sprawling residences and diminutive cottages and eventually into the village for tea in a real pub. I do not look like a tourist or anything with my camera around my neck and iPhone shooting from my free hand. So much to drink in, (no pun intended).

Day Two dawned beautifully on sparkly waters glinting in the dawn. This must be one of a few rare vistas on the water where one can see the sunrise to the right  and watch it set at days' end on the left. The rock is known as Pilot Rock where sailors used to sit watching for ships come into the harbor. They would then send the pilot boat out to guide them to shore. Could not help looking up the words to Jesus Savior, Pilot Me.

A talkative cabbie, a noontime concert and cooking-in-a-castle were highlights of the day (oh, with tea at the Queen of Hearts sprinkled in). Our taxi driver proved true to his word when we asked his favorite thing about Ireland. His trigger went off in a thick, Irish brogue as he told us the Irish are friendly and have time to talk, unlike Americans who are always looking straight ahead or at their phones. Hmmmmmm......then he talked and talked and talked much to our entertainment. 

Here I go again snapping pix at cute little shops. (There would be many more of window boxes with effusive displays of color, sculptures and parks had I not deleted most today's crop transferring them to my ipad. IT person for hire out there???)

An Elegant Dinner was the theme of the cooking class held at the Kitchen in the Castle in Howth Castle on the island of Howth across the way. The castle, built in 1200, is still inhabited by three generations of descendants (that possibly rarely run into one another, it is so huge) of the original family that built the edifice. The kitchen itself reminded us all of Downton Abby and we had a ball learning some new tricks and then sitting down to enjoy our newfound culinary prowess. 

Bon appetit!