A visit to ye olde Ireland
The £80 million super-yacht with a helicopter on the upper deck sat in the harbour, and we sat outside the ice-cream parlour in an old banger that had broken down. Our dear next-door neighbour in Ireland had taken us to chi-chi Glengarriff in the Beara peninsula and had insisted on driving us, because she has her car crammed full of essential clobber, like her walking sticks and a shopping basket nicked from the local supermarket in which she stashes her supply of duty-free cigarettes. The sheep-shearing, diddly-dee Ireland they have, very cleverly, preserved for the Americans We made a motley crew, the builder boyfriend and me and this doughty Irish
