Five Reasons Why, Even After 36 Years, I Still Choose to Live in Ireland

Scariff Island, off the coast of Eyeries

Recently, during a visit with my father in a Sun City, Florida, active retirement community, a rather nice woman approached me. We chatted for a bit and as inevitably happens my foreign residency came up:

Her: "It's so lovely talking to you, Tom. But you haven't told me where you live."
Me: "Ah, somewhere  overseas."
Her: (eyes twinkling) "Really? Are you in the military? Where are you posted?"
Me: "No Ma'am. Actually, you see, I live in Ireland."
Her: "Oh I love Ireland! How long have you lived there?"
Me: (gulp) "For thirty-six years."
Her: (after a shocked beat of silence) "Is someone forcing you to stay there? Don't you want to come home?"
Me: "Actually, Ma'am... I'm an Irish citizen now. You see, Ireland is my home."

She studies me closely. 

Her: "How can you say that? You told me you were born in Chicago." (she bristles a bit). "Don't you like America anymore? It's the greatest country in the world. We're making it even Greater! (glaring hard at me). "If you're a REAL American you'll come home right now!"

Then she turned on her heal and walked away in a huff. And all I can do is sigh.

This sort of conversation comes up with my fellow Americans again and again: when I'm in the States visiting; on airplanes when I'm travelling; even in my local pub where I'll be having a quiet pint and engage in conversation with an American tourist or two. 

So why have I stayed in Ireland for all these years? The answer is: because I've fallen in love with it.

Five Reasons Why This Yank Stays In Ireland

Many Americans I meet simply cannot (or choose not to) understand why I continue to call Ireland my home. It's about time I came clean:

1. A Future for my Children and Grandchildren

When I first moved to this country in 1982, Ireland was just shy of a banana republic. The country was in the depths of a horrific recession. Over 17 percent of the workforce was out of a job. Infrastructure was non-existent. Interest rates approached 20 percent. Hell, I couldn't even get a telephone. The plight of the country made me think I'd made the biggest mistake of my life.

And frankly, I was worried for my children. I wondered: Would they ever be able to carve out a future in Ireland?

Over the years, however, Ireland has pulled its socks up. Today, it is one of the most successful countries in the world. Unemployment is at an all time low. Infrastructure (at least near major cities and towns) has been fully modernized. The country is renowned for its diversified industry. It is a center of excellence for I.T., pharmaceutical, food, agriculture, and a wide range of other industrial segments. The country's artistic endeavors (everything from painting to creative writing to the film industry) are flourishing. 

Today, I can even get a telephone!

But back in 1995, desperately homesick for America and fed up with my life as an Ex-pat, I came very close to loading my family onto a plane for a move back home. Before taking that irreversible decision, however, I compared notes with friends living in the United States. What I found changed my life.

Ireland has some of the best education in the world. The country's primary and secondary schools ensure that students become truly literate in the fundamentals to succeed. As importantly, they begin the process of learning how to think for themselves. Ireland's universities and technical colleges offer students a wide range of first-rate subjects that are crucial for success in a growing world economy. Depending on the major, they also receive practical, hands-on education and training. 

Since making the decision to stay permanently in the country (like forever) my children have fared well: a daughter with a degree in business studies; another daughter with a degree in marine science; a son with a PhD in the Irish language. My kids' success are a reflection of the educational opportunities available to anyone living in this country.

And the cost? Recently I had a conversation with an American friend of mine who is facing the daunting financial task of putting his own children through college.

Him: "We've been saving forever and we're almost there. By God we can afford to send the kids to college!"
Me: "Why that's terrific! Do you mind if I ask: what's it costing?"
Him: "Well, one of the kids is going to an Ivy League college. The second will follow in two years. They'll attend an in-state school where tuition is a bit cheaper. So..." he breaths in deeply, "it should only work out  to 250 or so."
Me (impressed): "Two hundred and fifty dollars a year, each? That's terrific!"
Him: "No. Two hundred and fifty thousand. For the lot! Of course that's only for the tuition and fees. We'll have to work on room, board and spending money.  Fortunately, the kids are both eligible for student loans. We'll take a 2nd mortgage on the house. But at the end of it," (I can hear him grin victoriously) "the total debt will be less than a hundred grand. Which is amazingly low compared to many."
Me (shocked): "Well hey Fred, that's just terrific."
Him: "Sure is. Ah, Tom, do you mind if I ask... what did it cost you over there in the Emerald Island?"

I think hard, trying to figure out how not to destroy him. 

Me: "Well, you know, all the kids have finished college now. But it was pretty affordable."
Him: "Affordable. As in?"
Me: "Well, ah, er, about 10K per kid per year."
Him: (a moment of deep silence) "Do you mean like three kids x four years x 10k per year? That's a total of $120 k for them all? But that's just tuition, right?"
Me: "Actually, Fred, that's the whole taco. Tuition, room and board, spending money..."
Him: (getting a bit ridiculous) "But, and I'm not saying anything bad here, the colleges were sort of, what, sort of third rate? They're a bit dumb?"
Me: (my turn to bristle): "Actually, Fred, they're some of the best around."
Him: "What kind of loans do the kids have? What kind of loans do you have?"
Me: "Well, we don't have any loans. None. Nothing. Nada."
Him: "Oh."

And he hung up.

2. You Ain't Going to Go Broke if You Get Sick

A few years back, Dad had keyhole surgery. Obviously, he went to hospital. What was supposed to be a simple out-patient procedure grew a bit more complicated: he was force to stay two nights.

A month later he received the bill. I saw it and was astonished: $80,000. Fortunately, Dad has excellent medical insurance. 

In Ireland, we all bitch and moan about our health system. However, seeing Dad's bill got me thinking. I checked with a local medical practitioner and asked the question: "If I had to go through the same procedure as Dad, what would it cost me in Ireland?"

The answer: A little less than $1,500. And that includes everything. 

Like the UK, Ireland has socialized medicine. We pay a great deal in taxes for this privilege, and the down-sides of public health can be frustratingly cruel (complete disclosure: we have a very high incidence of troubling 'trolley-times' - meaning that those coming into hospital can wait days for a bed and are forced to wait  on a trolley, often in a public area. It's an outrage that health professionals are trying to address - but it will take forever). However, despite this I have the comfort of knowing:

Drugs - no matter what I'm prescribed, it will cost me a maximum of a little less than $200 per month

GP visits - average approximately $70 per visit.

Hospital visits - on public health, max out at about $1000 per year no matter how many days I may have to stay in hospital.

Public health services have many challenges. For instance, Ireland would not have the most advanced healthcare sciences or procedures in the world. For those, by all means go to America!  But here, and particularly as I grow older, I know one fact:

No matter what my body or mind might face, I know I will not go broke. 

3. It's Safe Here

Open an American paper or any online News site and you'll invariably find a report of the latest daily shooting, with scores of people - often children or teens - dead.

In Ireland we don't have that problem and for a simple reasons: most weapons are outlawed. 

As a gun owner in the United States, and a used-to-be fervent supporter of the 2nd Amendment,  it took me years to get my head around this. However, as the years passed I grew up.

While Ireland has murders (and the murder rate is increasing), most assaults do not involve guns. Certainly, Ireland has never experienced a mass school killing. No one walks into a newspaper office with an assault rifle. Here, guns are the exception rather than the rule.

Yes, you can apply for a permit to hold a shotgun or small caliber rifle. But automatic weapons and handguns of any kind are verboten. It's that simple.

Here, I don't have to worry that my grandchildren will die when they attend school. Here, I will in all likelihood never be assaulted by a thief holding a Glock. 

Here I know that my loved ones are safe. 

As time goes on I find I simply do not understand many American's obsession with guns, or their die-hard attitudes of protecting so-called rights associated with extreme views of the 2nd Amendment. For me it's simple:

Kids first. Guns decidedly second. In Ireland, our gun laws uphold this simple value of protecting life. 

4. The  People

It's true. The Irish are probably some of the most friendly bunch of people in the world. I like these good folks. Heck, I've come to love the Irish.

Their good humor, welcoming nature, intelligence, and caring attitudes entranced me years ago. There is a gentleness in these people that is hard to describe or define. 

All I know is I'm comfortable with these folk. And while I am not Irish at all (except by naturalization), and have no Irish blood in me, I can finally say:

I feel one with the people of this country because they have given me my home.

5. The Beauty of Finding Home

Eight years ago I moved to Eyeries, a small village of just over 60 souls located on the Atlantic coast, way, way down in the southwest of Ireland.

It is magic. 

Each morning I sit at my dining room table, sipping a cup of coffee, gazing out at the serenity of Coulagh Bay and the Atlantic beyond. If I sit at the outside table I can hear the surf crash onto the rocky coastline only a half-mile away. I hear gulls scream as they search for their morning meal, and smell the fragrance of salt spray mixed with budding gorse and fuchsia. 

I close my eyes and take a breath. I feel the sun on my brow and the wind in my face. I'll spend the day writing upstairs then eat with my partner and go out for a pint or two with my mates up in Causkeys. 

Here, there is little divisiveness over political issues. Here, we do our best to listen and make a bit of room for each other because most are reasonable creatures. Here, we do not call each other names (except in jest) and do not embrace hate.

Yes, Ireland continues to face many challenges. Its housing costs are once again astronomical. Its debt mountain intolerable. The cost of living is once again soaring.

But... and a big but...

Here, I think I've finally found a little corner of the world to call my own. A place, me-thinks, that approaches heaven. 

Here, I have found my home.

2018 Edition: A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE TO LIVING IN IRELAND NOW AVAILABLE!
A Perfect Gift for Saint Patrick's Day.

If this blog interests you and you want to learn more about Ireland why not consider purchasing A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE TO LIVING IN IRELAND 2018 EDITION.

Are you thinking about living and working in Ireland? Would you like to move to Ireland? Do you want to know how to get an Irish Work Visa? 

Do you need to know how Brexit and Trump policies may affect your plans? If so, consider purchasing the 2018 EDITION OF A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE TO LIVING IN IRELAND by Tom Richards. 

Now almost 90,000 words long, this book could make the perfect gift for  those interested in this wonderful country. Over 14,000 people have now learned how to live, laugh, and drink like the Irish by reading this Kindle ebook. I hope you enjoy, and my very best - Tom

Tent Camping in Eyeries: Meeting Folks from Around the World

Dutch Dad & son sharing a loving
moment at sunset in Solas Mor
tent camping

Six years ago, we decided to allow people to use our back garden as a tent camping site. Since then, we've been visited by folks from all over the world. 

Fortunately, life has never been the same.

"You Really Should Let People Camp Here"

It all started six years ago. As usual at mid-Spring here in the very southwest of West Cork, it was pouring. Bucketing. Rain coming down in humongous sheets. On that early afternoon I was lazing on the couch with my nose stuck in a book, when a knock on the front door.

Opening it, I discovered a poor fellow who resembled a drowned rat. Utterly soaked. Shaking with the cold. Water dripping from all extremities. He held onto a bike, in a similarly distraught condition, and I wondered what the hell this poor fellow wanted.

"Would you mind," said he through clacking teeth,"if I camped in your back garden?"

Turns out the poor fellow had just finished cycling from Cork City all the way to our tiny village of Eyeries. He had intended to camp along the seashore. While it would have been a stunning location in which to set up a campsite, the rain and gale-strength wind proved too daunting.

Thinking he would die of pneumonia at any moment I of course agreed. Mind you, I'd never had anyone camp in our backyard before. It seemed a sort of - odd - request. However, with introductions quickly made, and as I put on the kettle for a cup of tea in hopes of warming the visitor, he wheeled his bike to the back yard and as I watched from the shelter of the back room efficiently pitched his tent. 

Magically, at that very moment the rain stopped. The clouds and mist parted. His gaze turned toward the stunning horizon: blue seas, the silhouette of the Kerry Mountains and Ring of Kerry to the north; the finger of the jutting, craggy hills of Beara Peninsula to the south; the islands of Eyeries, Inishfarnard and Scarrif directly west.

And nothing but the Wild Atlantic Ocean beyond.

As I came out of the house to join him, my camper turned slowly to me. "Wow, what an amazing view," he said. "You really should let people camp here."

Camp? In our garden? Like all the time? I'd never considered such a thing. But he persisted. and as it turned out, I did.

The Plan

My camper - the first of many - had bicycled all over Europe. He had stayed in any number of back gardens - space which homeowners had turned into campsites. I grilled a hamburger for the fellow, and as we ate together beneath a cloudless sky he told me exactly what needed to be done to turn our wee little back garden overlooking Coulagh Bay and the Atlantic into a welcoming location to pitch a tent.

We followed his directions to the letter.

Today our visitors can pitch a tent anywhere in the back yard. They have use of the downstairs toilet and shower. In poor weather they can hide in the back room. They have use of our WiFi. If they're good folk, Carm - my erstwhile partner - will often throw in a morning cup of tea and slice of toast. 

We don't advertise (other than a listing on AirBnB and a mention on Google Maps). Rather, we welcome anyone who happens to tromp by and needs a place to pitch a tent.

When we set up six years ago we didn't think we'd get anybody. But since our first visitor from Cork, we've been delighted with the number of people who have visited us from as near as the next county and as far away as New Zealand. 

Stories from Abroad

We don't get many visitors to our little camp site, and for a very good reason: the Beara Peninsula, upon which our little village of Eyeries rests, is one of the most isolated spots in all of Ireland. Most people coming to set up a tent in our back garden are hikers (walking along the absolutely stunning Beara Way) or cyclists determined to knock their legs off on the steep, potholed roads you find here. 

But those that do visit us are some of the best people we've ever met. Carm and I have talked about it, and we're guessing that it takes a special kind of person to make it all the way down to Eyeries. Invariably, these people seem to be looking for some stunning views; a bit of peace and tranquility; a place to unwind and enjoy each other's company.

That sums up what Eyeries and the surrounding Beara offer. 

We've had folks from the UK, Scotland and Wales; France, Germany, Spain and Portugal; Dutch folk, Finlanders, and Swedes. People from North America and South America, Australia and New Zealand.  Iceland and the Isle of Man, as well as Israel, also spring to mind.

Each of the people we meet has a story to tell. If we're lucky, and if the weather is fine, Carm and I will sit outside and chat with our guests over a beer or cup of tea. And as they relax and their minds become filled with the peace of the area - as they listen to the early morning cuckoo that nests down the hill, or watch the gulls soar squaking above, or breath in the smells of the distant sea and its shoreline, they'll share their lives with us.

I particularly remember a German lad who visited us a few years back. He was 18 and built strong as an ox. He was here with five other buddies, all German, all about the same age. For some reason or other, we started talking about the War. And for reasons I don't understand, we began chatting about the lad's Great-Grandfather.

In World War II, his Great-Grandfather had been a sailor on a U-Boat which was interesting. But more interesting than that was the fact that his relative had survived to tell the tale. 

However, when the lad mentioned  that he was ashamed of his great-grandfather, my heart broke for him.  "My great-grandfather was a member of the Nazi Youth," he said grimly. "He idolized Hitler like so many of them did back then. I never like talking about him."

Gently, I mentioned a fact he had never heard: over 70 percent of all German submariners were killed during the War. His great-grandfather had survived.

"If he did not survive, you wouldn't be around to share your story with me," I said quietly. "What he did, and what he believed, were also believed by most Germans at the time. You should be proud of your Great-grandpa. He served his country, and by doing that, gave you a future. 

"It's been 70 years since the end of the War. Don't you think you can forgive him? And be proud of his bravery at sea? And his survival?"

I saw a change in the lad's face. Later, I met him at our local pub, Causkey's, just up the road. He bought me a pint and smiled hugely at me. The next morning, when he and his friends broke camp he shook my hand. "Thank you," he said. "You have made me think differently."

And he made me think differently too: Of how all of us are only here because of the brave  survival of our relatives, and the heritage they give us so freely.

But the lad's heartfelt tale is only one example of the many stories people share with us. We're grateful for these simple gifts of trust and friendship they give us, having come so many miles to stay.

The Serenity of Beara

I've lived in this neck of the Irish woods and along a stunning coastline for almost eight years now. Of all the places I've lived - and I've lived in many parts of the United States and a number of locations in Ireland - I've finally found home. 

There's something special about Eyeries and Beara. It has to do with the people here: their warmth and welcoming character, and the laughter often hidden behind kind eyes. It has to do with the setting sun on a glorious summer's day, or the sweeping seas during a winter's gale. It has to do with the peace found midst barren rocks, or the song of distant bleating lambs, or the stunning view of a falcon hovering over a field hunting for prey.

We've named our small tent camping site Solas Mor - the Place of the Sun. No matter what the weather, the spirit of Sol's warmth seems to shine through.

With campers from all over the world, we can now share the welcoming warmth of Beara's serenity.

For more information on Solas Mor Tent Camping check out Google Maps

2018 Edition: A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE TO LIVING IN IRELAND NOW AVAILABLE!
A Perfect Gift for Saint Patrick's Day.

If this blog interests you and you want to learn more about Ireland why not consider purchasing A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE TO LIVING IN IRELAND 2018 EDITION.

Are you thinking about living and working in Ireland? Would you like to move to Ireland? Do you want to know how to get an Irish Work Visa? 

Do you need to know how Brexit and Trump policies may affect your plans? If so, consider purchasing the 2018 EDITION OF A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE TO LIVING IN IRELAND by Tom Richards. 

Now almost 90,000 words long, this book could make the perfect gift for  those interested in this wonderful country. Over 14,000 people have now learned how to live, laugh, and drink like the Irish by reading this Kindle ebook. I hope you enjoy, and my very best - Tom