Ennis
Our first day was to be non-stop. So much beauty. Friendly people and incredibly old everything. The town of Ennis was exactly what I had pictured in my mind ~ narrow streets with colorful shopfronts and people standing on the street corners in conversation. It was lunch time and Des had a place in mind to stop. But why are we sitting still in traffic? A funeral? I so wanted to snap a picture, but my camera was put away in the luggage. Also, it might have been a bit disrespectful. The poor soul was being transported inside his casket on a wagon pulled by two well-groomed horses. All the friends and family were walking behind the wagon as it made it's way slowly down the narrow street towards the tiny cemetery.
The Old Ground Hotel was our destination. Des pulled into the small parking lot and we walked through the heavy doors, past the ivy clad exterior, into the splendor of a by-gone age. The restaurant or "pub" was off to our left and very easy to find. All we had to do was follow the sound of cheery voices and rattling dishes. We took a seat and just soaked it all in. The smells, the sounds, the highly polished wood walls and tables. I ordered some type of soup or chowder. Very good, I must say.
There was an elderly gentleman sitting all alone at one of the tables on the other side of the room. Leigh felt that he would make a good picture, so she approached him. He was very gracious and agreed, although she had a very hard time understanding his heavy Irish brogue. But she did learn that his name was Patrick. Eating lunch at the Old Ground Hotel was probably part of his every-day routine and it was, no doubt, a pleasure for him to meet a pretty American girl that wanted to take his picture. It would give him something to tell his wife over dinner, anyway.
