The time I jumped a fence with my grandpa in Ireland

More like walked around a gate but stick with me here

Ballynatray Estate—where my great great (great?) grandfather was born. Credit: My great uncle John Bellanti

I’m taking you all back to 2014 when I was studying abroad in Ireland. When I tell you that these five months are some of my favorite of my whole life so far, I mean it.

It was a really special period of time—full of really silly adventures with friends, massive amounts of personal growth, special memories with family, and so many lessons learned about being independent and problem solving.

Ireland will always be a really special place for me—not just because it’s beautiful, and the people are amazing, and the food and beer go down smooth—it’s a place that holds a snapshot of a time in my life where I knew I was exactly where I needed to be and I wasn’t worried about the future or the past, but I was just there, in Ireland, living my best life.

It also helps that I had little to no responsibilities. No job of course, and while I’ve always been a good student, college classes in Ireland were very different. We were graded on final papers and tests rather than homework throughout the semester, so there was rarely any homework aside from the expectation that you kept up with the reading.

This meant that I had more free time than I ever had in my whole life, and I actually started my first blog! But I also learned how I like to spend my free time. I went for so many walks around Cork, I read, I wrote, I planned trips.

One such trip that I am so lucky to have planned is when my grandparents and great aunt and uncle came to visit. At the time, it felt like it was no big deal that my grandparents came to visit me in Ireland (they loved to travel but they were also in their late 70’s!) but even as the trip was happening and ever since then, I realized how special those memories are as they are now both gone.

Lunch in the English Market, hot chocolate at my favorite place in Cork, my grandma (a talented musician) listening to the organ play in the Cork Cathedral

I was attending University College Cork, so they naturally based their trip in Cork and stayed in a bed and breakfast just a few blocks away from my apartment. I remember showing up to their bed and breakfast one morning, and they asked me: “So, Steph— what should we do this week?”

They hadn’t planned much, and at the moment I was a bit overwhelmed thinking about planning their itinerary for the week but thinking back on it now, I actually think it is a huge compliment and a testament to their personalities and temperment. They just wanted to experience my world in Ireland and trusted me to guide them to make some nice memories with their grandchild.

The one thing that they DID have on their itinerary was visiting an estate where my great great (great?) grandfather was born. I think it’s just the double great, but it could be one more. This ancestor was on the Mork side so my grandpa, his sister (my great aunt), and me were all his descendants.

This estate was only about an hour away from Cork so it was an easy day trip. We had no idea whether the grounds were actually available to the public. Could one could just show up and go inside? Information was hard to find online but at one point it seemed like it was a wedding venue, so we took our shot and made the drive over.

On pulling up the long drive we came to a gate across the driveway that led to the estate. We all kind of just looked dumbfounded at the gate.. wondering if we came all this way for nothing. But then my grandpa popped out of the car and said something like, “I’m just going to go check it out.”

I didn’t think he should go alone, so I got out of the car just in time to follow him as he started to go around to the side of the gate and climbed over the ledge of soil and brush (jumped the fence!) to get to the other side.

Somehow my uncle John managed to capture my exact feelings after we got to the other side of the gate. This photo lives in infamy in my family! I think I’m carrying some map quest directions hahaha.

I’m sure my grandma was saying something like, “John! You come back here!” But he was determined and the two of us walked probably what was a quarter of a mile up the driveway to get to the estate.

My memory is a bit hazy here, but I remember that my grandpa found one of the groundskeepers and I think they found the owner who ended up letting him walk around the inside. The car with my grandma, great aunt, and great uncle kept driving down the road to find the viewpoint in the first picture and we ended up meeting up with them on the grounds anyway.

We took pictures, walked around the grounds, found a small abbey where I think someone we were related to was buried, and while some details are a bit hazy, I remember thinking, knowing, how special that day was.

I recently recalled this story with my parents, and it made me want to write about it and writing about it makes me want to look a bit more into my ancestry!

If you made it this far, thanks for reading—if you take anything away from this it’s that a) you should go to Ireland and b) you should make memories with your family and the people that are important to you.

I was lucky enough to have people in my life that were intentional about time together when I was younger, so now I get to be the one that is intentional about time together now that I understand the pricelessness of that time.

xx

On the estate grounds