Andrini’s take Ireland


     Let me tell a great tale. A true story about a few friends who embarked on a regular trip that turned into one of the best adventures. An excursion to the emerald hills of Ireland and the wild mountains of Scotland.
      A trip where the original plans consistently morphed, and improvised changes made by the distracted eyes of the traveling companions were always an improvement. Where the excited hope for a “good trip” crumbled as each day the epic experiences you encountered slowly sank in and the realization forms that this trip isn’t just good.
     This trip is Great.
     Maybe it was the location. Ireland wooing us with her dreamy landscapes, life-filled pubs, and fantasy land castles. Scotland whispering adventure around every secluded corner and challenging us to meet her face first with wild strength and delight. 
     Or maybe it was the company. The “Andrini” clan (as we dubbed ourselves….Coppini + Andrea = Andrini). Each day bonding us closer and tighter. Each day filling our minutes with laughter, depth, thrill and movie-worthy images to memory. 
     It was the little things in-between. The practical jokes we played on one another (pretending it was someone’s birthday and making it a goal to surprise someone in the group with a birthday song at every restaurant). 
     The 15 mile bike ride that turned into a 50.
     The live music in pubs that made every hip shake.
     The history in the buildings we saw. Drinking each brick up with wonder and soaking in the memories of those who have passed before.
     The fact that it DID NOT RAIN on us. 
     Not once while were were out did it rain. (Even locals commented on the two weeks we traveled being the longest stretch of time in this season that they could remember it not raining)
   It was the castle we stayed in. Living as kings and queens of old. Drinking the most exquisite tea in the finest room and losing yourself in a fit of giggles (so much so we were afraid they might kick us out).
It was flying magnificent birds and sharing in a sport that is as old as the castle grounds.
It was a feast for our eyes and a banquet for our souls.
     The pursuit of hearts was just as important as the pursuit of experience. And this balance, this braided experience of relationship and adventure. 
     I believe it is a piece of heaven.  A slice of the Father’s heart.
     Tangibly seen and held and now one of my most cherished memories. 

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