There's no Christmas like an Irish Christmas
Last year, we had the great pleasure of going home to Ireland and spending Christmas in the old homestead with our daughter and very large extended family in Greystones, Co Wicklow. The day after we arrived, fully recovered from the jet lag and with a great Irish breakfast inside us, my husband and I decided to go out for a drive along the coast road towards Wexford. It was five days before Christmas. We had no map in the car as our new cell phone had GPS and we were somewhat familiar with the terrain.
After driving for about two hours, enjoying the many rolling hills and green fields full of sheep and cows we decided we wanted to stop somewhere for a break and a cup of coffee. Mile after mile of very narrow roads we travelled watching out for the sharp bends, hoping to spot a pub or a coffee shop ahead. Finally, around yet one more steep, tight bend I spotted a car park and quickly told my husband to stop and pull over.
To our surprise and delight we had stumbled upon a small country church, surrounded by fields on all sides. We parked the car and ran towards the brown wooden door to get out of the cold and the rain.