Her knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel, her back rigid with tension. The car was thick with nervous energy as we navigated our way out of Dublin, trying to find the expressway. I took a deep breath, focused on relaxing, and concentrated on sending calm, confident vibes to Jen, who was bravely driving our tiny silver rental. It was her first time driving on the left side of the road and the passenger side, making every turn and signal a bit disorienting for both of us. Thankfully, the route from the rental agency to the highway was straightforward, and Jen managed beautifully despite her tension. Once we hit the highway, her confidence grew, and the anxiety seemed to melt away.

We drove northwest to a quaint village outside Castlebar in County Mayo, where we would be staying for a few days. Jen had a colleague from Ireland whose parents had graciously agreed to host us.

Finding the Walsh residence was an adventure in itself, given the lack of a physical address and the vague directions we had, but we eventually made it. We were greeted warmly by Rita Walsh, who had a cozy fire waiting in the living room, and Kevin Walsh, who promptly served us potent hot toddies made with a strong, clear whiskey he jokingly called “fire water.” Rita had prepared dinner, and though she was a bit taken aback by my vegetarian preferences—perhaps an uncommon trait in a land famed for its meat and potatoes—it was a warm, welcoming evening.

That night, we slept soundly, warmed by the fire and the hot toddies. The next morning, Rita had breakfast ready, which included what looked like dark black bread filled with grains. After taking a bite and enjoying the crunchy texture, I asked Rita about the unusual color of the bread.

“So, what makes this bread so black?” I inquired, curiously.

Rita exchanged a glance with Kevin, her expression frozen. It was clear she hesitated to answer, so Kevin gently chimed in.

“Well, it’s the pig blood it’s made with,” he explained.

I nearly choked on my laughter, amused by the mix-up. Pig’s blood pudding for a vegetarian? Rita must have thought she was pulling one over on me. Despite the humorous confusion, I set the pudding aside and continued enjoying the rest of my breakfast.

Our three days with the Walsh family were laid-back and delightful. Their eldest son, Jude, drove us around the beautiful countryside each evening for photo ops. Rita brought us to a local street fair, and Kevin invited us to join him at the Mart, where cattle were auctioned—an eye-opening experience into the life of Irish farmers. The scenery in County Mayo was stunning, and I captured some fantastic photographs. This intimate glimpse into Irish rural life was truly enriching.