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Cork.

I loved your quaint streets that were packed with unexpected color in the forms of chipped paint and old faded signs.

Adventures were had finding the famous fish and chip shop where the fish was fried whole and cradled in 3 thick sheets of waxed brown paper. The shop looked like it hadn’t changed a bit since the red ribbon was cut. Line out the door with two small tables outside. Our table was the sidewalk down the road where we plopped down and dived in. mmm fish donut.

Tried to find a friend of a friend. Walked the streets asking buskers where to find Patrick. There was one man who answered to the name but he just wanted a wife and a good time and would have agreed to any name given.

Murphy’s and Beamish filled my belly and buzzed my brain into a sweet lull.

The night was filled with traditional Irish music that made me swoon and melt in my seat. Pubs feel like living rooms with fresh beer on tap. Cozy nooks where you can people watch and make up stories for every person that comes in from the neighborhood.