Yesterday, we pulled into Kinsale, a brightly colored harbor village packed with fairy tale cottages, cobblestone allies, flower beds, stain glass windows and, of course, pubs and a steeple. It's where the Irish go when the sun graces them on a weekend, and they want to live their own version of a fable. Prior to Kinsale we embarked on a harrowing journey, which was our Ford Focus equivalent of sailing the high seas to unknown lands. Imagine being on a tiny road that looks barely big enough to be a one-way street, midway through it you realize a tour bus is coming right at you. Now, you have stone walls and parked cars on both sides. The bus keeps coming, and you can't back up because there are cars behind you. What do you do? Well,
... read more