Yesterday morning, deciding to venture into Nenagh to buy provisions for my week at the cottage, the cheerful woman in the pharmacy informed me that the town’s top-rated coffee shop remains closed on Mondays. Interestingly, the next three top favorites, along with the iconic Country Store (known for its French cheeses and salamis), share the same schedule. “You know, the Country Store was the first to introduce salamis and foreign cheese to the region,” she told me with pride.
Walking by the Country Store, a sign affixed to its door informed passersby it’s also shut on Tuesdays. Which is why I decided to head to the Tesco (Ireland’s version of Superstor) to stock up on coffee, fruits, yogurt, and other essentials. Although the cottage is surrounded by inviting pubs within walking distance, navigating the one-lane roads at night, isn’t a task I’m eager to undertake.
Despite Google Maps being a reliable navigator, reaching Tesco was a mini-adventure. The challenge wasn’t the accuracy of the directions, but the speed at which I would spot the street signs. What should’ve been a 5-minute drive from downtown Nenagh ended up taking three times longer.
Embracing the Irish pace has become my new mantra. I’ve come to appreciate the slower timeline and my inadvertent detours—whether by car or foot.
Because even on foot, and with Google maps to direct me, I am as adept at getting lost as when I’m driving. A lovely stroll from my cottage towards Lough Derg early yesterday evening led me down an enticing ‘road’ (it was the prerequisite one lane-narrow) pointing towards Castlelough.
I walked (downhill) savouring the fresh evening air, forest aromas and all the cows munching grass in green, green pastures. Their big, curious eyes would briefly shift from the lush grasses to observe my passing. Surprisingly, though Ireland is known for its sheep, they have been markedly absent from the pastures all around. I was however, delighted to meet an amiable dog who accompanied me for a stretch before turning back towards home as I ambled on down the hill towards Castlelough.
Reaching the tranquil lake shore was rewarding. However, the uphill trek back, with Google Maps as a quasi-guide, had me second-guessing my route more than once. Ironically, my directionally-challenged stroll did lead me to a delightful sight: a farmer herding his cattle, their moos echoing in the crisp air.
As I walked (in the wrong direction) followed by a parade of cows, their gentle snuffles and mewls and the farmer’s calling out, “Hup. Hup.” to urge them along, a soft serenade that grew quieter as he shepherded them into a farmyard and I continued to walk in the wrong direction.
Eventually, my curiosity about why I was walking back down towards the lake convinced me I needed to check Google maps again. That’s when I discovered ‘my big mistake’. My 8 minutes from the cottage when I’d last checked had become 18. If I carried on the way I was going, my walk would be another 35 minutes, in gathering dusk. Right. Turning the phone around to ensure you’re walking in the right direction is a fundamental navigational tool.
I turned around and began walking back up the hill, negotiating my way through the cow patties they’d left on their homeward journey.
Don’t you just love the smell of fresh manure? It has such a… memorable… aroma!
Settling into the cottage has been a learning curve. From mastering the basics of realizing I need to flip a light switch to turn on the water to the shower and kettle to familiarizing myself with local terms (it’s not a gas station, it’s a petrol station!), I’ve been absorbing it all. And apparently, a Euro coin is just… a coin.
Today, as the autumn chill lingers outside, I’m staying away from driving. I’ll take a couple of walks. Maybe even a nap. With Mr. Baggins, my feline companion, snoozing on the sofa and a warm fire crackling, I take a moment to relish my self-made coffee.
Indeed, life is grand.
Dare Boldly 
I am sitting with a wee dram of Bushmill’s as I savour each descriptive sentence you have penned. I do admit there is a tad of green envy sneaking into my subconscious. So glad you choose to rent a cottage and not do a hotel. However, the old style inns in urban areas are a delight too.
Enjoy every adventure you encounter.
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Hmmmm…. a wee dram of Bushmill’s… that might be on my agenda today! Once I decide to get out of bed. Right now, I’m lying warm and cosy in bed, sipping fresh brewed coffee. I’ve opened the drapes and am looking out at the garden, Mr. Baggins greeted me earlier at the front door to the cottage with his meowing song. He’s now curled up on the comforter beside me. 🙂
Today… I have no plan. We’ll see what urgings to explore are calling.
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I love everything about this! Hooray for you, Louise! 💚
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Thank you Kelley! I must admit, I’m having a marvelous, unstructured time!
And… I’m getting some writing done too. 🙂 ❤
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Thank you – great descriptions and photos of your trip to cottage-country, Irish-style; just a thought … you are compiling (and I expect you’ll continue) a series of bits + pics that might make a great ‘in-flight magazine piece’ for an airline that takes Canadians to Ireland … and you might want to submit that to an airline, or two, who do.
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Ooohhhh.. Good idea. Especially after today’s adventure where I had a flat tire and a lovely family made me tea and invited me to join the book club meeting the wife was hosting while we waited for roadside servive. More about that tomorrow! 🙂
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The little I’ve seen and experienced in Ireland is consistent with your observation.
Also, I remember having bought ‘gas’ the 1st time in Toronto, where I encountered not one but two major questions. The guy asked me: How much ($), to which I had no reply, because at home we fill it up. And ‘what’? I told him a few times: benzin… (gas). We didn’t hit it off easily. I finally said ‘whatever our vw bus needs’ only in terrible English, I suppose because he took his sweet time to ‘fill her up’….
Learn also motorway for highway, pronounce dance the European way and – contrary to me in Canada – feel ashamed when you get outed as an American. In Toronto I got ‘you come directly from Harvard?’ which made me immediately apologise for my English, when ‘they’ told me that my E was much better than theirs…. and I wanted to apologise again!
But don’t those differences also make life so colourful and interesting?
I wish you ‘the best’ week in your retreat. You will fall in love with the country and its ppl 🙂
And sheep in masses will be seen. They are everywhere.
Should you be like me, you’ll probably end up in Switzerland (see, soul sisters and ‘same idiots’) because of being unable to read a map. Just know that we have ONE guest bed in our rental. Feel free…. ❤️
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I remember in GErmany where we thought it was hilarious that an Exit was called an AusFahrt! I know. Small things amuse me. I used to love saying that word. 🙂
And yes, all those differences do make a colourful and interesting difference!
Thank you Kiki. I thought the countryside was beautiful and have come to the conclusion it’s because of the beauty of the people. They permeate everything with their charm and vitality.
I learned today that Tipperary is known for its beef. Few sheep. But counties over…. sheep reign! 🙂
LOL re creative map reading soul sisters of so many varying degrees and aspects (not idiot btw. Just creative! 🙂
Many hugs — and ohhhhh….. ONE guest bed…. 🙂
We have a beautiful guest room over looking the yard and the river….. 🙂 Feel free! 🙂 ❤
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Wonderful post, reminds me of my own visit to Ireland
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So glad to bring back irish memories Beth! ❤
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