By Maeve Binchy
After many satisfied years of marriage and elevating a relations, Brian and Kathleen abruptly locate themselves a section misplaced in existence. Midwesterners who’ve by no means traveled, Kathleen makes a decision that what she and Brian want is a holiday, and with assistance from an enthusiastic trip agent she plans a visit to eire looking for her roots. In attractive, old fashioned Lisdoonvarna, to the couple’s shock, they locate themselves in the middle of a joyous every year collecting devoted to celebrating the existence and paintings of a past due Irish poet, and so they rediscover anything even more vital than facts of long-dead ancestors: their love for every different and for all times itself.
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Additional info for A Week in Summer
I couldn’t see him standing in line in Paris and Bruges. Culture didn’t loom large in his life. Then what about a beach holiday, if he was anti-culture? A place where the ladies go around topless? Chester asked. I told my new Vacation Buddy that Brian wasn’t anti-culture, just that four cities full of it in one week and lots of luxury busing along autostradas and autoroutes might not be his thing. He hadn’t been well, and he needed cheering up. Disneyworld? A theme park? Chester suggested and I refused.
Bored on board ship? Chester was unbelieving. But he had other suggestions. Perhaps a cultural tour of four European cities via luxury bus? For all that he liked writing poetry, Brian wasn’t that interested in museums and art galleries. I couldn’t see him standing in line in Paris and Bruges. Culture didn’t loom large in his life. Then what about a beach holiday, if he was anti-culture? A place where the ladies go around topless? Chester asked. I told my new Vacation Buddy that Brian wasn’t anti-culture, just that four cities full of it in one week and lots of luxury busing along autostradas and autoroutes might not be his thing.
He was good, Chester was. He didn’t want us to spend our whole vacation stuck in a city looking up people who’d been dead for hundreds and hundreds of years. If my husband was ill, if he was difficult to please and in a bit of shock, Chester said this wasn’t the kind of restful holiday we needed. Maybe we should consider the neighboring county, County Clare. There are lovely drives around the Burren, unusual plants to see, castles to look at, porpoises and dolphins in the Atlantic, for the days that we don’t spend looking up my roots.