Notes from a Spinning Planet—Ireland Read Online Free Page A

it’s not like they’re going to just pack up and leave.”
    “Why can’t they stay but let Northern Ireland be reunited with the rest of Ireland?”
    “That’s sort of like asking why the Native Americans can’t have North Dakota back,” says Ryan.
    “Huh?”
    “In other words, it’s complicated,” says Sid.
    “Well, I don’t see why people can’t just get along,” I say as the waitress brings our drinks.
    To my relief, Sid changes the subject by telling us a little more about where we’re going to be staying today.
    “Connemara is one of the most untouched regions of Ireland,” she explains, sounding a bit like a travel brochure. “The town we’ll stay in is called Clifden, and it’s by the sea. Really pretty and quaint. I’ve booked us a bed-and-breakfast for three nights. It’s in one of the oldest buildings and in the center of town.”
    “Sounds nice,” I say as I take a sip of what is supposed to be Coke, although I’m skeptical.
    “One of the men I need to interview tomorrow lives north of Clifden,” she continues. “I’m not sure how long it will take, but I figure you two can kick around town while I get my interview. Maybe you can rent some bikes and see the countryside, or take a ferry tour to one of the islands, or just hang out and do some shopping.”
    “Or maybe take a nice long nap.” I yawn as I look down the narrow street we’re sitting beside, and I’m struck once again by the fact I am really in a foreign country. “These old buildings are so cool,” I say as I study the stone structure directly across from us.The large double doors are painted bright blue, as are the flower boxes, which overflow with red geraniums and lots of other bright blooms that hang down several feet.
    I point to the carved sign over the door that reads
Céad Míle Fáilte
. “What do you think that means?” I ask my aunt.
    “As I recall, it’s ‘welcome.’”
    “That’s a pub,” Ryan informs me.
    “A pub?” I ask. “It looks more like a hotel to me.”
    “He’s right,” says Sid. “It is a pub. But pubs in Ireland aren’t like the ones at home.”
    “How’s that?”
    “Well, most of them are more of a social place. They serve food and often have live music or some other form of entertainment. And here’s the kicker: unlike back home, they allow children inside. It’s kind of a family place, really.”
    “Seriously?” I look back across the street and have to admit that it does look like a pleasant enough place, but even so, I have my doubts about children in drinking establishments. “They really let little kids go into the bars here?”
    “They’re not
bars
, Maddie.
Pubs
. Of course, kids come with their parents, and they don’t serve juveniles alcohol.”
    “But the drinking age is lower here,” says Ryan.
    “How low?” I ask.
    “Eighteen.” He grins like he’s pleased by this fact.
    Now I’m not too sure what I think about that. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t tasted alcohol before, but it’s not something I’m into. That’s partly because I’m a Christian and partly because my parents,who are pretty conservative, made me promise when I was about thirteen that I wouldn’t drink either. Sure, I’ve broken that promise a couple of times, but I was always sorry afterward. Anyway, I know my parents wouldn’t be too thrilled if they discovered I was over here partying in Ireland. But I must admit the idea of being “legal” is kind of interesting too.
    Our food comes, and I am pleasantly surprised to discover it’s really delicious. I mean, it’s only a ham sandwich and fries (or what they call chips), but everything about it is really superb. “I didn’t know they had such good food in Ireland,” I say as we’re finishing up.
    “Why wouldn’t they?” asks Sid as she puts her credit card with the bill.
    “Well, my friend Katie said that English food is pretty disappointing.”
    “This is
not
England.” Sid winks at me. “And don’t