I went to Ireland for the first time since 2020, but this time it was an express trip: just six days, but worth every minute. As everyone already knows, it was in Ireland that Rory and I met — more specifically in Limerick, the city where my novel Limerick and Time is set.
The flight was smooth, and in less than seven hours I was already landing in London for my connection. The layover was so short that I didn’t even have time to pretend I was sightseeing around that English capital I love so much. I was confined to the airport and, in between wandering around, I found out that the Starbucks in London doesn’t sell London Fog. Unacceptable, to be honest.
Another hour in the air and I landed at Dublin International Airport — a partner in so many happy hours, always taking me somewhere I had been dreaming of for ages. That’s where I reunited with two essentials: Irish Guinness and my beloved Julia — who, technically, isn’t even my real cousin, but I love her like a sister — and her husband, Leo. The Guinness and the conversation were just as good as I remembered, and not even a sleepless night or the seven-hour time difference could dull the magic of seeing them again. Julia and I really need to stop scheduling these encounters with a start and end time. We should be spending entire days singing on bridges and exploring any city that crosses our path.
The lack of sleep started to take its toll when I got the bus schedule wrong and ended up boarding one that left an hour earlier — goodbye to sixty precious minutes of chatting. But that was fine: my heart was happy just knowing that in two more hours I would finally be in Limerick.
In Ireland, I stayed at Holly’s house. Holly is my Irish friend, badass (with a “ph”), the director of the International Office at Mary Immaculate College. A great friend, the kind who crosses oceans: she even came to my wedding and, in fact, was the only person who ate the cake. (Yes, #raccoonphase.)
Actually, I didn’t stay exactly in Limerick. I stayed in Killaloe, a little lakeside town, beautiful and already familiar to me. Holly has a house there, and as soon as we arrived, we went out for a stroll. First, we had dinner — the food was so good I swear I had forgotten that Ireland could produce a meal capable of surprising me like that. Afterward, we visited the town’s cathedral, carrying over a thousand years of history in its stones. Of course, for someone born in Brazil and now living in Canada, this “New World” label becomes obvious — it’s rare to find something built by human hands that’s survived that long.
And as tradition demands, after walking around, we ended the night with a real Guinness — no airport Guinness allowed. It was wonderful.
The next day, we had breakfast and headed to Limerick. It was Saturday, and Saturday is the day the Milk Market is buzzing. It felt so good to be back there again. Honestly, I felt like I was walking around with a celebrity because Holly knows everyone — absolutely everyone.
The Milk Market is a place brimming with culture, local crafts, and vendors selling products made right there — the perfect spot to get to know Limerick up close. I couldn’t find the stand that used to sell that halloumi sandwich I loved and used to eat every Saturday with my friends, but it was still worth the visit. I picked up a few local goodies for Rory (which I ended up forgetting in Holly’s fridge, but hey, it’s the thought that counts, right?).
That part of the city is what I love the most. I passed by Nancy’s and so many places I had just revisited in Angela’s Ashes (a book I had re-read that very week, especially because of this trip). We walked a lot and then stopped by Link Brazil to order some Brazilian treats I wanted to serve at my book launch. By the way, hello, Link Brazil — you really should open a shop here in Alexandria. I miss everything you sell, especially the Sunday feijoadas.
After that, it was time to stroll around the medieval area of the city, at St Mary’s Cathedral, which plays such an important role in my novel. Holly is the perfect guide for that visit because she knows so much about the place’s history that we spent over an hour inside without even noticing, just taking in the details and reminiscing about all that has happened there over the centuries.
Crossing the River Shannon, seeing again the building where I used to live, taking a photo with the mural of Dolores from The Cranberries, and, this time, finally trying the beer from the city’s brewery — a place I’d never visited when I lived there. The owner of Treat City, the brewery, was so friendly and even said he would post about my book launch on their stories.
After that, we went to visit Holly’s mom, who is always so warm and lovely, and then we stopped by the Country Club for another Guinness. That’s where I met Peter, Holly’s boyfriend — a cultured, polite, kind man who can talk about absolutely anything. Points for Holly!
Later that evening, Juliana joined us for a night out in Killaloe. And even though the limited number of pubs didn’t allow it, we almost did that challenge of having a pint in each one. We only made it to two, but in the second there was a band playing, and they were really good. I drank a warm Guinness that was sent to our table by mistake, and someone even spilled an entire Guinness all over me — but no stress: I was in Ireland.
The next day was the day to meet up with Mari and Joci. Mari and Juliana — whom I’d already seen the night before — were part of the group I went to Ireland with to do my master’s, and they’re still living there, practically Irish by now. Joci, on the other hand, is a dear friend I met when I worked for a few months at The Range, right in the middle of the pandemic, to support myself and save some money. It was wonderful to see them again — not only because they were so important during that time in my life, but also because they’re such warm, lively, amazing company.
After the delicious breakfast we had at a charming café in Killaloe, we went on a boat ride. Killaloe has that lake that looks like it was sketched by some medieval monk who, between one illuminated manuscript and the next, decided to create a landscape to bring peace to the heart. The lake is part of the River Shannon — the same Shannon that runs through Limerick — and has been the backdrop for battles, Viking routes, and countless fishermen’s stories about strange creatures they swear they’ve seen on foggy mornings. When you sit by the water’s edge, it’s easy to picture it all happening right there: monks carrying manuscripts, invaders arriving in wooden boats, women washing clothes and whispering secrets no one else would ever hear. It was there, watching the hills reflected on the still surface, that I thought about how some places carry a memory we don’t always understand, but we feel.
After the boat ride, we went back to Holly’s house, caught up on all the gossip, got ready, and headed to Limerick, where we were finally going to Nancy’s. But first, we stopped by Treat City again — there was a group playing jazz, including some lovely Brazilians (who had even come to my book launch), and we spent a few hours there: me, Holly, Peter, and Michelle.
Ju and Mari were waiting for me to have dinner at The Locke Bar, another one of my favorite pubs in Limerick. We watched a bit of Irish music and dancing, and, as always, it was fantastic. Ps: the final scene of my book takes place in that pub.
Before heading over to Nancy’s, we made a quick stop at The Old Quarter, and as I was arriving — almost as if to welcome me — Dirty Old Town started playing. (I know it’s not exactly a romantic song, but it’s part of our playlist — Rory’s and mine.) There, we met Terry, Ju’s boyfriend, who had come out especially to see me. I adore him.
Finally, we got to Nancy’s. And of course, it was amazing. The lighting is still the same, casting that purple-reddish glow in all the photos. The smell, the atmosphere — none of it has really changed — and I wished so much that Rory had been there with me. I have a feeling I drank a bit too much — and that feeling was confirmed the next morning — but it was pure joy to be back in the place where I met Rory and had so many good moments.
The next day was rough. I was literally dying of a hangover at Holly’s boyfriend’s house. I was embarrassed and genuinely miserable. I couldn’t even eat the special breakfast he had made for us. To complete the scene, I threw up out of the moving car when we were almost back in Killaloe. But after a nap, I was good as new.
Later, we went for a walk in Killaloe. Honestly, there’s nothing like a hike to prove that universal truth: there’s always someone who swears “it’s just around the corner,” when in reality there are still three kilometers left. I’m pretty sure I was fooled, but it was worth it. The view was so beautiful and, like everything in Ireland for me, absolutely charming.
Later in the evening, we had a delicious dinner and watched an Irish film, The Quiet Girl, during which, of course, I cried. The movie is based on a book by the same author as Small Things Like These, and it was so sensitive and beautiful. I loved it.
Holly asked me if I wanted to go for a walk with her. Knowing Holly, I suspected it meant climbing some Irish mountain, and I was right — we went up to the Millennium Cross. The Millennium Cross is the kind of place that feels like it was built just to remind you how small you are in front of all that vast landscape. Climbing up there was almost a hands-on lesson in physical endurance and humility — especially considering my hangover — but, as always, the view made every step worth it. From the top, you could see the lake stretching out as far as the eye could see, dotted with little boats that looked like toys. It’s funny how we spend months thinking about complicated things, and then, in a place like that, it only takes a few minutes for everything to feel simple again.
After that, we continued to Garrykennedy, a village that looks like it came straight out of a postcard. Garrykennedy Castle — or rather, what’s left of it — sits right there by the lake, with that slightly melancholic atmosphere ruins always have. I walked around imagining how many stories had passed over those stones — wars, weddings, pacts, betrayals. And, of course, I took about a thousand photos before finally sitting down to have dinner at a restaurant that looked small but served amazing food. There, we met one of Holly’s friends, who was so lovely and genuinely interested in my writing career.
On the way back, we stopped by Bryan Boru’s Fort. They say that it was in this area, around the year 940, that Brian Boru was born, and that this place served as his main residence and center of power. Today, the fort looks like just a big ring of earth, but back then, it was a real fortress. It had deep ditches and wooden ramparts built to protect the community from attacks — which, let’s be honest, were not exactly rare in that medieval Ireland full of disputes. Inside, families, soldiers, and servants all lived together, everything organized so that if an enemy army appeared, everyone could rush inside and hold out until the danger passed. It’s amazing to think how these places hold an ancient memory that somehow still reaches us.
Holly was working, so I went over to Mari’s house. She canceled all her plans just to spend the day with me. And that’s how I ended up having my little blogger moment. We went to the medieval part of the city, and I recorded a few videos talking about the places where my book is set. Normally, I’d be dying of embarrassment filming in the middle of the street, but Mari was so sweet and patient that I actually felt completely at ease — and the videos turned out great.
After that, we had lunch at The Curragower, which has that spectacular view of the castle, as if every table were reserved for someone on the verge of an epiphany. From there, we went back home to get ready for the big event: the long-awaited launch of my book in Limerick.
Publishing the book at MIC was the fulfillment of a dream I had been carrying for years. And it couldn’t have been better. Seeing my professors again, meeting everyone who had been part of that intense year I spent in Ireland — it all felt like a new beginning. And to make the evening even more special, the Brazilian ambassador to Ireland came to show support, and the honorary consul of Limerick interviewed me, in that pocket-show style — in English, of course. It was amazing.
I reconnected with so many friends, and in a moment I’ll never forget, Holly even tried a few words in Portuguese, in such a sweet little speech it made me cry.
I won’t go on listing every detail, but it meant so much to me that I know whenever I think about that day, my heart will feel warm.
In the end, I was left with these beautiful memories — and even the possibility that, who knows, one day my book might become a film. Can you imagine? I can almost see the credits rolling.
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