Sir, - I am back from my first unforgettable visit to Ireland. My impressions, recorded there, read as follows:
Green country of wind and water, where the rain plays hide-and-seek with the sun. Homeland of abbeys and castles, mostly in ruins, but retaining the splendour of the past. Roads and paths enclosed between hedges, vast golf courses surrounding mansions (or ruins of an abbey!), contrasting with modest village houses dispersed across the fields.
Hard-working population, still living with the memory of English oppression, holding on to cultural and religious traditions, sometimes tainted with superstition and belief in fairies and leprechauns. Spontaneous kindness towards foreign visitors - in the post-office, or in shops. "Enjoying your holiday?" or even once: "God bless you, dear!"
Ambient gaiety, in spite of the rain, but isn't Ireland beautiful seen through a veil of drops? And, anyway, a ray of sun soon winks at you, quite unexpectedly. . .
Yet, there is something else my family and I cannot forget either: the shocking experience we were submitted to on July 16th in the immediate proximity of Blarney and which somehow darkened our stay. May I take the liberty of recounting it here, so that the same doesn't happen to other foreign visitors.
We were on the way to Blarney and looking for a quiet picnic place: my German step-daughter and her two small children (7 and 8); my niece (15) and myself, both French. We found a vast field with a flat rock in its midst, where we arranged our picnic. (May I mention here that we are particularly attentive not to leave any traces of food or packing - always respecting the environment. We even carry a special bag for any leftovers or rubbish.)
After about 10 minutes, while we were eating our sandwiches a woman appeared, some 100 metres away, gesticulating in our direction - apparently wanting to chase us away. She was coming from a neighbouring property. We immediately started packing - thinking that perhaps the field was also hers. To our surprise, about three minutes later, a very angry man came running towards us releasing two big shepherd dogs against us. The children were terrified and so were we, as the man seemed almost hysterical, and was obviously encouraging the dogs to attack us.
One of them started biting the bag which I was holding and which contained part of our food. Fortunately the children remained unhurt but the man was very excited and loudly criticised "those foreigners who invade private property". I just told him that, there being no inscription to that effect, we couldn't know that the field belonged to him. There being no way to calm him down, we simply left telling him: "We thought the Irish were friendly people - you certainly spoiled the picture for us".
We thought that we should make this incident known in the press, in order to avoid that other innocent visitors be submitted to a similar treatment. Fortunately the rest of our stay (including other picnics) was marked with Irish hospitality. - Yours, etc.,
Anne-Marie Schweighofer-Falquet, Chemin de la Gaude, Vence, France.