That is what Newfoundland is. A little piece of Ireland, with origins after the Vikings to Ireland and England. Even now you can tell where someone's roots are by listening to them talk. There's still a thick brogue in some and phrases in others that aren't heard anywhere outside of Ireland or the West of England.
So St. Patrick's Day here is the same excuse for a party as it is in Ireland.
I don't participate usually with green beer, kiss me I'm Irish hats, or Celtic music even though I ahve connections to Ireland. My first husband was Irish, from Cork and I lived there for a year experiencing all the good and bad that it has to offer.
A conversation tonight sparked off memories of my early days in Ireland and how I travelled from coast to coast, some by bicycle, some by train, some by car. I went from Cork to Galway and the Aran Islands to the north and back across to Dublin, visiting small vilages are large urban centres, each different and unique.
One spot that captured my heart and imagination was a tiny village called Inch in the southwest on the Dingle Peninsula. I bicyled from Killarney to Dingle over two days and spent one night in Inch. Its claim to fame is a 6km sand beach that is breathtaking. This is an image of Inch Strand.