We have de-planed our first transatlantic flight in 2006 for the second and last time. Do you know what that means? We're in Ireland! Belfast to be exact. After two hours on the airplane they made us get off. Luckily, we weren't 13,000 feet in the air at that point; we were still safely on the ground, at the airport, well behind schedule. A radio needed to be repaired. Apart from that inconvenience, our flight was fine. The inflight movies, so I have been told, were Jack Black's Nacho Libre and the animated Over the Hedge. I slept...and possibly snored. Upon landing, we shuffled up to Customs and informed the fellow that we were leaving, with certainty, on 4 January 2007. Now we are not so certain. Since then we have learned that Ireland has no (NO) mosquitos, making the prospect of staying indefinitely ever more enticing.
Aunt Eileen picked us up from the airport. We spotted each other quickly as she had already wrestled her way to the front of the waiting-crowd. I love visiting with my family here. They have already made us feel at home in Ireland.
I best rest now to be prepared for Irish sightseeing tomorrow. We hope for a bit o' Blarney. Then again, we are here: maybe we already have it.