People often ask me how and why I came to Ireland because despite having lived in Ireland for the past 46 years my English accent which has stuck with me betrays my origins. That's okay with me and you get used to being asked if you are enjoying your holidays or do I know where this or this street is in London. I don't I only lived there for a short time.

 

I first came to Ireland in 1973 . My husbands father was one of sixteen from New Ross in County Wexford.

Chris had spent all his childhood summers in Ireland on the family farm being smothered and spoilt by his many aunts and uncles . He was the first and only grandchild at that time, although many more were to follow. Chris adored Ireland and had only good memories of long summers spent on the farm . After we married Chris was desperate for me to meet his extensive family and see the farm.

 

Chris was teaching in a boys school in Hampsted run by the excentric headmaster who everyone including the boys called Tim. Tim loved the theatre , good food, Irish whiskey and Ireland. Tim heard that we we were visiting Ireland that summer and he offered the use of a house that he had booked for the summer on a small peninsula off the west coat of Ireland as he was unable to stay for the last week of the booking. We readily agreed.

 

That summer Chris , myself and my beautiful daughter , who granny Larkin took a real shine to , we headed for Ireland , spending one glorious week visiting the many aunts and uncles who still lived in New Ross , drinking lots of tea, soda brad and heap fuls of apple pies. Each aunt trying to outdo the other in their generosity. Feeling thoroughly stuffed we finally headed for Kerry.

 

We crossed over a tiny bridge and followed the only road that led to the end of the peninsula. The sun shone the sea glittered , the cottage was perfect . Tim's relatives greeted us warmly . For better or worse we were well and truly hooked!