We chose to stay at Mamore Cottages for the experience of it, & if you go in with that expectation, you’ll enjoy yourself. When we arrived, Gwen had stoked a big fire in the fireplace. It had been a long journey, it was cold & rainy outside, & I could feel a migraine coming on. I immediately snuggled up in what we called “the grandma bed” because an exhibit at Glencolmville had explained that the bed by the fire is usually reserved for the elders since it’s the toastiest spot. I laid there smelling the burning peat (or turf as some call it), & I understood why that smell is so unique & such a memory trigger for so many Irishpeople. It smells like dirt, moss, stone, wind, rain, salt — like the island itself. Hard to describe, easy to remember. It is also very slow growing …. A inch is only formed after 25 years, and it’s a massive carbon sink, which is why Ireland has banned the commercial sale of it & rightly so. It was fascinating to try & light it back up into a fire. We tried & tried & tried to light it, used up two whole boxes of firestarters to try to get it going, and only had middling success. If I had our trip to do over again, I would have Gwen come by & explain how she mastered it. It made us very reflective to think of Irish people relying their whole lives on the romantic-smelling & difficult fuel that seems to burn away in a flash. We are so grateful for the experience of it!