May ushers in the fine weather and marks our fifth visit to the Republic of Ireland. One day we plan to visit the North where the scars of the Troubles are more visible and, for the generation that lived through them, still speaking loud from the static mouths of house high wall art, but for now the South still has a great deal to reveal. Here in the rural South Catholicism predominates, clothing the land and its inhabitants with an unhurried sense of surety. Maybe that’s why I am drawn here so often away from the rat race existence of the UK that wears me to a withered stump in that SAD phase just after Christmas. Rural Southern Ireland is a place to wind down, to wander through its rolling wide green spaces, freshly scrubbed and manicured scattered villages and rediscover the important things in life. For anyone who doesn’t live by the dictum that R & R is lying half naked slowly roasting under a far flung foreign sun I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend Ireland.