IRELAND . . .Rosslare . . . After dinner in a pub, Guinness stout is number one.The first sip coats my mouth like rich whipped cream and I'm hooked. A singer twangs a tale of unmet expectations - unhappiness in the entrapment we call love - Country Rock from the USA. I return to the hostel late. It's not like the hotels I used as a business man, where an invisible maid turned down the bedcovers and put a chocolate on the pillow. Outside, I inhale the Irish night, chilled by sea foam. My spine shudders at the beauty.
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