My sister married an Irishman

It’s like winning the travel lottery.

View from my sister’s guest bedroom. Image by the Author.

I recently saw responses on a Facebook post asking for bucketlist travel goals and many listed Ireland.

And I wanted to say, I’ve been there.

What’s even cooler? My sister lives there.

My sister married an Irishman, you see.

My husband, three children and I visited them nearly 10 years ago and stayed at their beautiful 100-acre farm. Coming from the Utah desert, all that green seemed so unreal.

My two daughters and farm dogs Rascal and Angel. Image by the Author.

By virtue of our family connections we got to know locals and visited in their homes. We found the Irish generally reserved but always willing to help or give their earnest opinion on things.

Apart from driving narrow but charming roads through unbelievably gorgeous countryside, we got to play an afternoon of Gaelic football. Our kids, who were teenagers then, enjoyed hanging out and comparing slang with my brother in law’s nieces and nephews.

The Airbnb’s are so charming, like in the movie Leap Year. One hostess even went so far as to bring in a piano for our son to play (we just casually asked if they had one and they…