We started in Dublin, drove down to Kilkenny, stopped at their 13th century castle, and ended up in Kinsale, the gourmet capital of the south.
It was here, in Old Head, we gave our respects to the ship Lusitania that went down off the coast in May 1915 and wondered about the history of these two items.
We climbed the 127 narrow stairs to the top of the obligatory Blarney Castle, foregoing the kiss and actually preferring the gardens to the hype.
And all throughout, we paid homage to Ireland's long fight for self determination and independence. I brought back three things with me: a reinforced respect for the country, a nubby open-weave scarf I still wear and this poem: I was here, here I was, was I here, yes, I was.