BREAKFAST IN HOLYWOOD Panini, a small shop in a town 6 miles east of Belfast, Northern Ireland, is an Italianate delicatessen stocked with dried pasta, salad dressings, a wide variety of Olive oil, and cooked meats from continental Europe. Inside there are three raised tables and a counter bar and outside, three wrought iron tables. [...]

The one place in the world where the Three Great Falsehoods remain strongly alive is Ireland and, especially the capital city, Dublin. These Three Great Falsehoods are: 1. This really is my last beer for today. 2. The check is in the mail. 3. OK, we’ll meet at half past eight. With intended irony, the [...]

We never got to Dingle. It was nearly at the end of the peninsula; that would be another 15 miles or so, and Bob had traveled far enough for his first week of work that year. He wasn’t the dumbest horse in Ireland. Maybe not even the laziest: we noticed his pace picked up as [...]

When we ran low on Irish currency, I decided I’d catch a bus to Tralee and visit a bank. Our American traveler’s checks weren’t generally accepted by the local merchants. After asking when and where I could catch a bus to Tralee, I casually mentioned the need to go to town to cash some traveler’s [...]

Ireland is formed like a big basin, with low mountains around its sea coast and flat farmlands and peat bogs inland. We were traveling in County Kerry home of Carrantuohill, at 3415 feet the highest point in all Ireland. Any grade of more than three percent, Bob considered an affront to his dignity; many times [...]

By now a stiff wind was blowing over the barren hills and a chill came over us. We returned to our caravan just before sunset and climbed into bed wearing sweaters and slippers, with four blankets. At 8:50, bells from a small church across the field began to chime. Before long, families began arriving on [...]

By early afternoon we were at the 200-year-old pub. Mrs. Ashe showed us where to park our wagon and where to pasture Bob. Coin-operated showers behind the pub washed the dust from caravanners such as us. The caravan was equipped similar to many American tent trailers of years ago: it had a sink and a [...]

Right after breakfast we met Bob. Having grown up farming with horses in Iowa in the 40s, I bad some idea of what a horse of Bob’s build could handle. Bob would have looked small compared to the American draft horses that we now see at fairs and parades around the US; he was about [...]

Travel By Peddler’s Wagon We never got to Dingle. Maybe it was because we missed the boat from Wales. Maybe it was because we missed the plane at Heathrow. But I think it was because Bob just might have been the laziest horse in Ireland. Driving a Gypsy peddler wagon around the Dingle Peninsula, you [...]