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Breakfast at Ballymaloe
Thinking back to our first stay at Ballymaloe, I searched for an update on the country house hotel buried deep in the Irish countryside; I needed an update that would help me recall the events of our visits. I found Facebook images without difficulty. Seeing current photos, I realized that the property has expanded, but much still looks charmingly familiar even though it’s been two decades.
Dates are complicated; I measure time by family events. Since an earlier son-in-law was there for several of our visits and our youngest daughter, the one not married to the earlier son-in-law, was there for others, it’s not beyond belief to be confused.
I’d have to bookmark this story for the early 90s. Gino, my husband, and I were alone for the first trip. That was the visit where we embarked on a seemingly lovely, modern four-lane highway, thinking that a 200-mile journey following the coastline of Ireland from Dublin to this small southwest portion of Ireland would not be difficult. We live in Texas, so we don’t measure miles or kilometers the way they do in Ireland: the width of the road, the speed of the cars, the number of roundabouts, or even the side of the road on which to drive. Driving on the left side of the road is a challenge. To add to the challenge, I had rented a small stick shift car. Not much power. That was my mistake. I chose the car because it was cheaper than renting…
