Fifty-six degrees outside, non-stop rain, wind gusts up to 20 mph. Day Two of sitting out the rain.

No fire today. We almost depleted our host’s supply of coal yesterday. 

I’m getting antsy. Time to get out of the house. We need one thing at the store. We plan our day around it. 

We drive to the store. Buy what we need. Nothing new on the shelves since yesterday…. 

We check out the weekly farmers’ market even though we don’t need fruit or veg.

We discover a 2€ store (like our dollar stores) on the corner. We walk up and down the aisles looking at everything. We buy a pack of ginger snaps.

Back outside in the rain. We ask a vendor at the farmers’ market if he can recommend a good pub in town. The Shamrock Inn. Great. Thanks. Cheers!

People in Donegal are very friendly, much more so than anywhere else we’ve been. Every local who strays into the pub greets us. We see a guy get off a bus outside the pub and come in. This guy—let’s call him Paddy—is obviously a regular. Everyone in the pub knows him, and he has his regular seat at the bar. (The guy who had been sitting there got up and moved as soon as he saw Paddy come in the door. Maybe we should call him Norm.) Paddy tells Marcus that he lives in Dunfanahy, a slightly larger village ten kilometers away. Apparently their pubs don’t open until 3:00, so he takes the bus over to avail himself of a pub that opens at noon. Every day? We don’t ask, but I’m guessing the answer is yes.

Paddy informs the pub that today is Clint Eastwood’s 89th birthday. Marcus proposes a toast to Clint. Toasting all around.

After about an hour of chit-chat, Paddy gets up. Time to catch the bus back to Dunfanahy. He walks over to our table and presents us with a bag of Tayto crisps (potato chips). He tells us they are the best in Ireland, and he wants to give us a gift from Ireland. I almost cry, it’s so genuine and sweet. I sniffle into my Tayto bag and think of my great-grandmother who lived just 40 miles from where I sit but emigrated in 1851 during the Great Potato Famine. What would she make of Taytos?

We go home and fold a load of laundry. Immediately the walls of the cottage start to press in. 

But! Today is Friday, and the pizza restaurant opens at 5:00. I check email, again. Play a couple of games of solitaire. At 5:00 we’re standing at the door with raincoats on.

There’s a parking spot right outside the restaurant, welcoming us. A sign at the curb: Trad Music tonight 6:00. Traditional Irish folk music. This is a really big deal, and not just for tourists. The Irish love their trad music. We walk in and score the last empty table in the place. Marcus orders pizza and beers while the pub fills up with locals. SRO. We settle in for some good ol’ Irish craic (fun). Things are looking up!

Let’s see what tomorrow brings.