Gerard Howlin: Ireland needs good food cooked perfectly — and scald that teapot
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THIS is a country of #noworries and no tea. Brackish, tepid water offered as a substitute for the latter, with repeated assurance of the former, is a new Ireland.
Travelling in our own country, we are not tourists. Even if unfamiliar with a specific locality, we arrive with a sense of acquaintance. The #staycation is an affectation of the newly rich, doing charitable works, conspicuously. It is the conceit of people who have forgotten — or the poverty of imagination of those who never knew — that travel anywhere used to be rare, and international travel extraordinary. Going abroad was the prerogative of the emigrant. It was neither romantic nor comfortable. Domestic travel was a requirement for salesmen. They were speculative characters who could never be exactly placed in their own locale. Generally, we never went far.
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