DOWNTOWN DUBLIN

Here are a few photos of the area in which the movie "Once" was filmed. The downtown pedestrian walkway is really beautiful, as is St. Stephen's Green.

OFF TO THE WILD IRISH COUNTRYSIDE

Easter Day was spent in this little red van belonging to "Over the Top" tour company with our Gaelic-speaking driver, Eaman. My husband balked when he saw how tightly the 16 of us would be packed in, but he took a deep breath and determined he could manage. It turned out to be a good decision. We were a motley crew, to be sure -- we came from Denmark, Canada, Switzerland, France, and, of course, the two of us from the U.S. The French group comprised partyers who were practicing their English phrases on me. My favorite was this one: "Besides being incredibly sexy, what do you do in your life?" I wonder if they had a chance to try it out at the pubs.

We drove up low mountains to the fields of what would be purple and pink heather later in the season, except that they were brown this time of year. Down below we could see the lush green meadows and mirror-like lakes. One such lake had only one mansion on its shores that belonged to the Guinness Family. It also looked as though it had a helipad.

We stopped at a pub in the town of Wicklow, where we were served huge plates of pork roast, potatoes (two kinds), rutabagas, carrots, peas and cranberry sauce for our Easter dinner.

But the last stop was the most impressive -- Glendalough (glen between two lakes). We visited a monastery that dated from the 6th century with a stone (not slate) roof. The graveyard was a dramatic look at Irish history. It was very powerful, and made me think of the book "How the Irish Saved Civilization." I could just imagine the monks sitting in this beautiful but isolated place in their austere, cold accommodations copying the works of the classics. A day worth the miles and tight seating on the bus!

A WORD ABOUT HOSTELS

We stayed at the Four Courts Hostel, located on the River Liffey. The riverfront was not developed with aesthetics in mind, but it was a convenient location for us to explore the Old Dublin section, known as the Temple Bar neighborhood and Trinity College. In general, I like staying at hostels, even though I'm often the oldest person in residence. I love the comaraderie, the sense of adventure, the cacophony of languages and the informality. This one made my A-List. Friday night when the pubs were closed, they brought in Irish musicians, and the music and Guinness went on until the wee hours of the morning. People cooked up appetizing dishes in the kitchen at all hours of the day (and mostly night). People shared their food, their wine, their life stories. I met a sweet 19-year-old French woman named Annie who was looking for a job in Dublin. She'd just been offered a post as a nanny, but she said she'd rather work in "fast food." I met an older man who was originally from Dublin, and was back to work on his master's thesis in sociology. He was studying low-income housing for Ireland. He said he wasn't getting much work done but liked the socializing. I myself didn't get much sleep with all the partying, but did like looking around the dining room and thinking about all the brainpower and charisma of these incredible young world citizens. What a privilege to be there!

ISLAND OF DREAMS

First of all, a disclaimer: I am half Irish (on my mother's side obviously, since my surname is definitely not Irish) and have always dreamed of visiting Ireland. One of my sadnesses is that my mother never made it there, even though she did visit Europe two times. My mother's great-grandparents came over in the late 1840s, as so many others did, during the potato famine. I have been unable to track them; they had common names, they were poor and they emigrated to Canada, then moved to North Dakota for free land. My mother didn't even know her grandparents' first names. After reading the classic book about the famine (THE GREAT HUNGER, by Cecil Woodham-Smith) I no longer was concerned about my particular ancestors; I was just obsessed with the tragic, dramatic story.

But the Ireland I saw is an ongoing 21st century drama. I was a bit taken aback by the poverty barely beneath the surface; I should have known, but I somehow thought the past ten years of the "Irish Miracle" would have erased all the past. It hasn't. I thought the city resembled photos I've seen of eastern Europe than England or France or Germany. And now that the miracle bubble has burst, it's hard to know what will happen next. I can say that prices are still astonishingly high. My son paid the equivalent of $6 for dental floss. Our youth hostel with few amenities was $40 per night per person. There's no doubt about it -- Dublin is a bit seedy.

Having said that, the people were the most friendly I've seen anywhere in Europe. When the cab driver calls me "sweetheart," it's clearly a thoughtful endearment, not a threatening experience. People stop to help you on the street when you pull out your map. St. Stephen's Park was a lovely spot in the middle of downtown brimming with flowers, swans and families.

We also made it to the coast, to the hills and lakes and to a beautiful stark abbey called Glendalough.

The second trip somewhere is always better. For mine, I will take a week-long coach tour around the island.

A word about the drinking: yes, it's everywhere. Signs were posted Good Friday apologizing for not serving alcohol, but then the pubs and bars opened at midnight and stayed open until 3 a.m. Odd logic, but it works for them!

OFF TO THE EMERALD ISLE

Thursday a large group of us started our journey to Ireland -- some via cheap flights on RyanAir, but some the old-fashioned way -- by train and ferry. The train trip required three connections. The first leg of the trip was good -- quiet, clean and fast train. But the next two connections were not so good. Too many people, not enough room for luggage and reserved seats that weren't really reserved. From what I've read, Great Britain's rail service is rated as the worst in Europe, although it still far outshines the service in the U.S. The service is on time, frequent and comprehensive. The ferry ride was definitely not so good. Apparently the ferry previous to ours had been cancelled, so ours was packed. Seats were hard to find and the 3-hour trip seemed much longer. Then came the jam-packed bus ride to downtown Dublin, then the cab ride to our hostel. All this took a long ten hours, but cost less than $100 each (round-trip). After a good night's sleep, though, we were ready to take on the Emerald Isle. Stay tuned.

"The Winter's Tale" is promoted outside the RSC in Stratford-Upon-Avon

A view from inside Warwick Castle