The Wandering Genealogist: A letdown yesterday but a huge pickup today

I've got to learn to forget about the forecast and just get out. After our golf game on Thursday, remarkably, we could move freely on Friday. Nobody was more amazed than I. I had been exercising but not golfing since October.

The weather wasn't looking good on Friday morning, I was still very tired because habitual insomnia has followed me here. Still, it was time to drag the body into action and go somewhere. It doesn't rain inside the car. And in the end, it didn't rain OUTSIDE the car either.

We settled on Enniscorthy and the National 1798 Rebellion Centre as the destination du jour. The chat we had with the person on duty was quite interesting about the various flags flying outside. What I found interesting was the Canadian flag and the Irish flag of today were proudly wafting in the breeze. The other flags (US, Australia and oh my I forget the rest) were those from the time of the rebellion.

Additionally, there was a County Wexford flag which is purple and yellow. The jerseys worn by the sports teams are yellow in front, hence the players are known as "yellow bellies". You learn something every day. Some days you even learn something important. I'll let you, my gentle readers, determine the importance of my "new fact for the day".

We bought our senior rate tickets and started our tour. As you move from room to room the audio, sometimes a video, is triggered by a motion sensor. The previous visits I'd made were at quiet times and there were no other patrons around. It was perfect. This time, there was a rather loudly chatty group ahead of us and their audio presentations were on when ours were, making understanding what we were attempting to hear, more than a little tricky. One chap in the group ahead was, or thought he was, well-versed in Irish history and added his own dialogue. Arrgghhh. We skipped ahead of them when we could. It would be much better if visitors had individual audio guides where you could press a button corresponding with the scenario you are viewing. Note to self, perhaps a friendly little message to the venue.

We stopped in Bunclody on the way home and picked up a rotisserie chicken and some salad at SuperValue, which made a very satisfying supper. The quantity of food I've been eating since the "attack" on Tuesday night, is really minimal and I fear a return of a greater appetite. In fact there were signs today.

Our evenings are so exciting I can't bear to describe them. We are both equipped with laptop computers. Enough said.

With better living through chemistry, I had a long solid night's sleep and awoke feeling great again this morning. Pat called The Burrows links course in Rosslare and booked us a tee time for 12. And we were off on the hourlong drive.

Thanks to Google maps, the journey was straightforward and uneventful. No sign of the traffic van that likes to increase the Irish GDP by catching folks who miss seeing it as they whiz by over the speed limit. Running our borrowed Prius in Eco mode means that the speed limit is something we only dream about reaching. No fear of tickets for us. I've started putting it in Power Mode when we come to a hill, otherwise we're in danger of slipping backwards. But don't misunderstand, I'm so hugely grateful to Mary and Oliver for lending me their vehicle. We decided to top up just before reaching Rosslare and now we've got a full tank to fuel our adventures.

We mistakenly parked and tried to check-in at the Rosslare Golf Club which owns The Burrows links course and learned that we had about another kilometre to go before our destination. Noted - and off we went again.

After checking in, paying our green fees and shelling out €2 for a very basic pull cart we were ready to roll. Pat suggested "just in case" that we don our rain gear before teeing off. Thank you, Pat. It wasn't long before the Irish mist rolled in and lasted for 10 holes. The course is a strange 12-holes long. The true Irish links experience was what we got on the final two holes. It had been merely windy and a bit moist up to that point. And then the heavens opened and the winds of hell swept in from the very nearby sea.

Our foursome included two very nice young men who lived in the area. They became our course guides and we had a wonderful time - despite the weather at the end.

We warmed up with 2 hot coffees, a soft drink and a Guinness. Pat maintained her traditional game-ending choice of beverage. You figure out which one that was.

By this time breakfast was long in the past, we completed more than our 10,000 steps, so we headed to Arklow for some dinner. It was farther than I'd thought, but long story short, it only took one phone call to a friend who lives in that town, to learn that our best choice for food the was the Arklow Bay Hotel. There were weddings going on and but staff found us a great table in the dining room, we ordered up our drinks, our fish and chips (and mushy peas), and the service was fantastic.

The drive back to our cottage was uneventful and truly scenic. Google maps thought we had had enough of roads with lines painted on them, so we were mostly on "L" roads. Let's just say they are narrow and you only meet oncoming cars on the corners. The odd straightaways, up to 100 metres between turns, are always free of oncoming traffic.

Once arriving on the Gorey-Carnew road we no longer needed Ms. Google and shut her down. I can only tolerate a device telling me where to go, for short periods of time.

We're back, wet rain gear has dried out, laundry has been washed and most is almost finished in the dryer. And another day comes to a close.

We took a few pictures - and here they are for your viewing pleasure.