Livin’ In Kinsale

Savannah gazed out the window and smiled at the rain. A steady stream dribbled down the window of the Poet’s Corner Café. I didn’t mind the rain, it made the magical green countryside come alive. Starting my adventure in Ireland filled me with excitement and wonder. I’d never been overseas, born in Portland, Oregon. Finished my Degree, I was free to fly off to see the world. I decided on a Post Grad course in Marine Biology at University College Cork. I arrived June 20th to enjoy the summer, getting settled before classes started come fall. I rented a flat in beautiful quaint seaside town Kinsale.

The waitress dropped off a steaming pot of Irish black tea and a cranberry white chocolate scone with butter and clotted cream. Being cozy indoors with a book is my cup of tea. Surrounded by bookshelves, the waitress suggested I borrow any book I fancied. “Patrons do book exchanges from the shelves; there’s always something new to read.” Finished my scone, I explored the titles; the books’ spines revealed both crisp edges and tattered covers. Romance novels, murder mysteries, poetry, fantasy and travel guides filled the shelves.

I ran my fingers along the books, waiting for them to speak to me. I stopped on a thin book, its spine untitled. I slid it out, taking it to my table to examine. A small black leather-bound notebook, the initials E.N.W. were embossed on the cover. Opening it revealed faded yellowing parchment. Elegant calligraphy covered the pages. A journal penned by Edmund Niall Walsh, the first entry was dated November 16th, 1937. I was stunned. The book was over 70 years old! Edmund wrote exquisitely about his beloved Margaret Kavanagh and his adventures as a fisherman at sea. Marrying his love in 1938, their son Patrick was born May 7th, 1939. A romantic poet, Edmund’s words were beautiful, his tales mesmerizing.

In September 1939 World War II broke out. Edmund’s entries grew darker. He wrote of the summer of 1940, fears mounting that Hitler’s Nazis might invade Ireland. Edmund made plans to hide his family’s inheritance in their fieldstone cottage until the war ceased. I recalled Ireland remaining neutral during WWII, although tens of thousands of Irish citizens, by law British subjects, fought in the Allied armies against the Nazis. Fortunately, Ireland survived the war almost entirely unscathed.

The final entry was October 14th, 1940. Flipping through the blank pages at the end I searched for answers. My heart ached with longing to know what became of Edmund.

Noticing I was new to town, a girl interrupted me, introducing herself as Chloe, inviting me to a bar that night with her friends. Thrilled at her invitation, I accepted.

The rain subsided, turning out a warm evening. After curling my long blonde hair, I chose a floral fitted sundress with a flowy skirt, with accents of green, matching my eyes and complementing my tan. I applied makeup and lip-gloss completing my look. As I walked to meet Chloe, I felt nervous and excited for my first night out.

In Hamlet’s Bar the lively atmosphere drew me. The raw energy of the music pulsed in my veins. The DJ spinning, groups of people gathering, laughter and chitchat at the long bar intoxicated me. Chloe towed me over. We grabbed drinks, heading to the dance floor. Spotting her girlfriends she called out, “Ladies, meet my new American friend, from Portland, Oregon. Ciara, Anna, Saoirse and Kayleigh meet Savannah Monroe.” Ciara trilled, “Welcome to Kinsale! You’re going to love it here! The summertime’s so fun with events, festivals and hot guys. Come dance! Sláinte!” We all raised our glasses for “Cheers!!”

Dancing the night away, I glanced towards the entrance as in walked the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Time slowed, butterflies took over my belly. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Tall, broad shouldered, built like a rugby player. I was mesmerized by his bright blue eyes glowing against his fair skin and cropped black hair. Perfect bone structure and a day’s growth of beard gave him a rugged and sexy look. Jeans and black V-neck tee accentuated his cut biceps and sexy tattoo. As my heart rate slowed, I could finally speak. Whispering to Chloe, “Who IS that?” I nodded toward him. She could tell by my face that I was crushing. “Oh dear, fancy him do you?” Chloe teased. “That’s Declan Walsh, local carpenter.” “He’s gorgeous! Hope I see him around more often,” I smirked.

Declan knew everyone, moving around the bar with confidence. Grabbing a pint he joined a bunch of lads his age. Achingly aware of his presence I tried not to be obvious stealing glances at him. I‘d never felt this level of attraction before; this must be what love at first sight feels like. His friend cracked a joke and Declan broke into a huge smile. “Ooh, Am I in trouble!” I thought. Dimples too. How can one guy be so devastatingly handsome?

Mind and heart racing, needing to compose myself, I rushed to the ladies’ room. Fixing my hair and lip-gloss, taking a few deep breaths, I said to myself in the mirror, “Okay Savannah, get out there, grab a drink and relax.”

I headed back, slipping my lip-gloss into my purse, BAM! I collided with a tall warm body. “I’m so sorry,” I blurted “I should really watch where I’m going.” He turned around drawling, “You’re a Yank, are you?” He checked me out, continuing, “Well I’m not sorry at all that you bumped into me.” He flashed a playful grin. “Oh my gosh, its HIM!” I thought, freaking out inside. He continued, “I’m Declan, where in the States are you from?”

“Nice to meet you Declan,” I stuttered, “I’m Savannah and I just arrived from Portland, Oregon to study Marine Biology at UCC this fall.” Declan replied, “Ah that’s grand so, it’s not every day I meet a beautiful, smart American girl in Kinsale.”

I blushed; his accent’s so hot! All I could manage was a shy thank you. “Can I buy you a pint?” He asked. Hyperventilating, I followed him to the bar. “If you’re living in Cork you’ve got to try our local Murphy’s Irish Stout, not to be confused with Guinness from Dublin. As you can see, it’s dark in color and silky smooth with toffee and coffee undertones, and an irresistible creamy finish. I’m a proud Cork boy can’t you tell?”

I laughed taking a long pull from my glass. “I like it, I’ll gladly try your drink suggestions. You’re from Kinsale? It’s a beautiful town; can’t wait to explore.” Declan replied, “Well, you’re in luck because I was born here and know every inch of this town, I’d be delighted to be your tour guide tomorrow if you’d do me the honor?” “Amazing, thank you so much!” I said. “Perfect, it’s settled then, meet me at 10 in the town square and I’ll treat you to a full Irish breakfast,” he winked. I grinned enthusiastically, “That sounds lovely.”

We chatted at the bar for hours. He spoke of his passions for carpentry and woodworking, music and our favorite bands. It felt like no time had passed when the lights started to flicker signaling the bar was closing.

“I should find my friends.” I said. “’Til the morning then?” Declan asked. Wide eyed, I smiled, nodding as he kissed me on the cheek. “G’night Savannah, ‘til we meet again.” He winked at me cheekily and turned to go.

I was smitten; I couldn’t believe how the night unfolded. Had I actually met the man of my dreams? I fell asleep dreaming of Declan.

After breakfast, Declan showed me the town, peeking into colorful and charming shops we passed. Chatting about life, our past and our dreams for the future, he grabbed my hand to guide me over the uneven cobblestone streets. Tingles rushed all over my body from his touch.

He pointed across the street proudly, “That’s my fathers’ shop, Walsh’s Hardware store. He’s the reason I became a carpenter.” Then it hit me; Blinded last night by attraction I didn’t piece it together until this moment! “Wait, your last name’s Walsh?” He nodded with a puzzled look. I continued “Okaay… this is going to sound strange, but are you by any chance related to an Edmund Niall Walsh?” Declan looked stunned, “Yes! How do you know that name? He was my Grandfather, a fisherman, lost at sea when my father was a baby.”

Saddened by the news, “I’m sorry to hear of his passing. You’re never going to believe this.” Reaching into my purse, extracting the worn black notebook, I presented it to him. “This was your Grandfather’s journal, I found it in the Poet’s Corner bookcase.” Declan was speechless.

We sat on a bench below a flowering tree. “Savannah, this is brilliant! You’ve no idea how much this means to me to reclaim a piece of my history. My Dad and Grandmother’ll be over the moon.”

I replied, “Yes, he wrote of his love Margaret Kavanagh and their wedding!” Sitting silently, he read the pages, smiling to himself.

“Declan, his last entry was October 14th, 1940. He wrote about hiding his family’s fortune the summer of 1940 because he was afraid Nazi invasion was imminent. Declan replied “I think he set out on his last fishing trip around that time but never returned. His overturned boat washed ashore after a storm. Where’d he hide the fortune?” He flipped the pages to the entry describing the plan. “Look, it says he’d conceal it in the old fireplace in his family’s cottage. Once the war ended he’d use the money to build a home for his wife and son.” Declan’s eyes lit up, “I know where that is! I played in that cottage as a boy. ‘Come on!”

Driving along the scenic waterfront, the sun danced on the waters of Kinsale Harbour, the boats’ sails fluttering as they tacked. The vibrant green of the emerald hills was spectacular in the summer sun. I was falling in love with Ireland just as much as I was with Declan; they’d both stolen my heart.

We drove through tall grass and wildflowers to a tumbledown fieldstone cottage. Declan leaned into the door, creaking open to reveal a room filled with worn furniture and faded seascapes. He studied the old walls searching for loose bricks. Leading me into a bedroom with one brick wall, we noticed the outline of an old fireplace. “This is it!” he yelled excitedly. Racing to his car he grabbed his tools. I enjoyed the view of his powerful back and arm muscles flexing under his T-shirt as he worked.

In no time the pry bar broke through the mortar, striking something. He gingerly removed the bricks, extracting an ancient trunk, placing it on the floor. Slanting me a huge grin, he unhooked the brass clasps. Newspapers covered a wooden box of silver and gold jewelry. Beneath it lay a bundle wrapped in oilcloth fastened with twine. Grasping the bundle, the twine disintegrated, stacks of bank notes cascading from his hands. Declan’s eyes rounded as he counted the money. “Wow, this is £20,000!” He picked me up in his arms, twirling me in a circle. “You’re incredible Lass! Thanks for bringing this blessing to my family.” He stared deep into my eyes as I felt my heart melt. Smiling tenderly, “he said, “I’ve never felt this for a girl before. We just met yet I feel I’ve known you forever.’’ Smiling widely, I said “I had to cross an ocean to find you.’’ He pulled me closer; leaned in and kissed me passionately. I longed to stay in this little cottage with him forever.

Savannah and Declan’s love story is just beginning, but they must leave you now with wise words from Grandfather Edmund’s journal; “Let it not be a headwind that holds us back, but a tail wind that pushes us forward.”