Life in the ivy league

IT’S one of the most magical hotel arrivals in Ireland. There you are, driving across the country with the weight of the world on your shoulders, when all of a sudden, you pull up at a little slipway dipping into the River Suir.

A small ferry awaits. From his cabin, a ferryman waves you onto the boat, and you begin the short crossing to an island in the river. The journey takes barely a couple of minutes, but it seems like a much more significant passage — a clean break between the real world and a wooded island hideaway.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS