Ireland is one of the most beautiful, mystic, and messed up countries in the world.
It rains a lot, but that just makes it more green and gorgeous. I have never seen a more beautiful sight than when I watched the sun go down, perched on some rocks on an obscure little beach near Dunfanaghy. It was pissing it down, but somehow it made it even more beautiful.
Unfortunately because I was raised in London (born near Creeslough up in Donegal) and i go there every holiday I've been subject to a fair bit of prejudice.
I can safely say that I have met some lovely Irish people who have only been nice.
Unluckily some teenager heard me speaking to my mum and decided to spit on me and call me a 'pommie fucker'. I was 8.
But I love it anyway. Growing up listening to my Granny telling me stories about Finn mac Cumhaill and his Fianna it was like I could touch the magic.
I have no doubt, though I adore England, Ireland is the most magical place I have ever visited.
The native language is Gaelic which is amazing when spoken. My granny tried and failed teaching me it, but I can read a few words.