One Irishman turns to the other "why is there no laughter in the Bible" The second Irishman answers "It was not written by an Irishman"

We have taken longer journeys. So far, this journey has been twelve days. Bill and Caroline depart  early Saturday morning. Betty and I leave for Scotland later on Saturday. We will have to be in Dublin overnight on Friday. We have done a great deal. It has been fun.
Today, we decide to rest.  The weather continues to hold. It has been excellent for us. We have commented on how green the landscape is. Locals tells us that this has been a dry summer with less rain fall than normal.
Betty and Caroline have not had a chance to do the tourist thing.  The decision is to walk a little and then an early lunch. Bill and I have developed a working knowledge of Central Wexford.
We window shop as we walk to the Yard.
The population of the city is slightly more than 20,000. I would not call the city affluent, the city is more comfortable and affordable. Like a great deal of Ireland, the overall population is young. But, my feelings are that because of its location, there are a number of retired and professional residents.
This is evident in the stores and the restaurants. The Yard reflects this upper mobility. The staff definitely has a European feel to it. Several of the staff are French. The menu has a more Continental feel to it. They call it modern Irish cuisine.
We are early and seated quickly. The food is good. The wine selection is definitely French with Chilean and Argentinian. We finish and walk over to the gourmet shop. Wexford is known for its "Wexford Cheese" which is a smooth and creamery (yes, I know the same as Guinness) cheddar. There are also local food products - chutneys, jams and honey.
Nothing encourages walking more than a leisurely lunch. We turn right out of the restaurant and walk slightly up hill. We have no specific destination.
Bill and I have walked a great deal, but have not visited many shops or sights. We enter Wexford Arts Centre. Wexford is far more than a small city in southeastern Ireland. It is aspirational.
Aspirational is a good thing. In this case, aspirations result in an exhibit which is extremely self-indulgent. A short film about a woman doing something. She is self conscious. The film maker is saying that if you do not understand my art - you obviously are not aware.
But, I do watch the film. The Centre is proud of its exhibit. And, who am I to judge. Most importantly, it reflects that Wexford attempts and encouragement of  arts. Interestly, the artist is not Irish and not local resident.
Every year in October, there is the Wexford Festival Opera. Founded in 1951 by local opera aficionados. It is a world class event known for programming unusual and rare works. The Festival embraces new and upcoming young singers while including new international names who made their first appearances at the festival.
The women at the desk are very helpful and charming. I think they enjoy the idea of tourists visiting the center. Betty purchases a CD by local musicians. It is not very good. Aspirations.
I could see living in Wexford. Of course, we are friendly tourist and only interacting with friendly tourist oriented Wexfordians ( I made that word up - not surprised are you?). Like most small towns, I am sure that Wexford has cliques. I gained that impression from our neighbor driver on Tuesday.
But, still there is a great deal to like about Wexford.
We continue to walk to the far end of Main Street. The Bull Ring forms a square in the center of town. There is minor street construction going on. In 1621, the Guild of Butchers brought this sport to Wexford (makes sense - Butchers, Bulls  - and Bull-Baiting is not a sport). A bull was chained to an iron stake before being set upon by specially bred dogs. The bull dies and the dogs are injured or die.
Now, the really bloody - Cromwell (this man was sick - and oh, by the way English - what is there about the English and the enjoyment of massacres) massacred "put to sword that came their way ...not many less than 2,000". after his soldiers breached the town walls. That was 1662 and apparently, Cromwell was on holiday in Ireland and if you are Cromwell, when bored - kill people.  Specifically, you kill Catholic men, women and children  ( for that matter, I don’t think Cromwell liked anyone who did not share his vision of salvation).
Now, the Bull Ring anchors the north end of the central Wexford shopping. Further north by about 200 yards is Dunnes (the "Target" store of Ireland).
North and South Main Street define the shopping and eating in Wexford. The stores are a combination of "people with a great idea" and established small businesses. There are not many chain stores. Dublin is more global.
Betty shops for gifts for the kids. She buys a beautiful gold chain for Caroline as a birthday present.
It is a slow walk down Mail Street. We stop at small shops along the way to our destination - a bookstore.
Readers Paradise is not the best bookstore I have ever been in. It is comfortable. On the second floor, they sell coffee and sweets. The couches and chairs are comfortable. I am very comfy.
If you want to find us in any city we visit, look for the bookstore.  In practical terms, we are looking for specific books. Caroline tries to purchase a copy of "Pride and Prejudices" in cities she visits. Betty and I try to collect "Poirot" or if that fails "Agatha Christie". We started at the book stalls in Rome.
Apparently, what we thought was unique souvenirs may not be or the English speaking world is not as enthralled with Agatha. It is not easy to find these novels - particularly, "Pride and Prejudices".
Another reason is that it is not a tourist thing to do - other than those looking of maps and postcards.
A bookstore will tell you a lot about the area. For example, in Paris there appears to be a bookstore everywhere - you name it, there is a book shop for it. But, they do not have comfy couches and coffee. London has 2-3 major chains - and they do have coffee.
The last objective of the day is a local Pub. In Dublin, there are pubs. We found one in the Temple district - had to be local - the bride's party in the pub was definitely local.  But, it was Dublin. We wanted this last pub to be local.
I had surveyed the local pubs earlier in the week and there was one that seemed to fit. I selected a pub just off Main Street.  The criterion was no food and looked used.
Mary's Bar seemed to fit. And, this is where I got the feeling that there are cliques in Wexford. I am not complaining - walk into a local Tavern in any US city and you are made aware that you are not local. Also, there are customs you are not aware of - for example, you order and pay at the bar. There is seldom table service (that is true in US also - we just do not think of it or do not go to those neighborhood bars often).
So it was not singing the evening away. It was an adventure and we enjoyed our local beers. We travel tomorrow so a long night was not planned.But, if we were interested, Wexford has a lot of places to celebrate long into the night and listen and sing with the locals. Wexford does like to party.
Bill and I leave to go food shopping - Dunnes. It is a little late. But, Dunnes is open. We leave tomorrow so it is enough to get us through the night.
Tomorrow, train to Dublin.
 

"During the Easter Rising 260 civilians were killed & 2,217 wounded, rebels killed 66 and British 143 killed and 397 wounded."

Wexford is very proud of its heritage. As you meander the city, plaques on walls and buildings refer to Viking forts and castles.
The Knights Templar founded churches throughout the county.
 The residents of Wexford County are aware and proud of their historical participation in the rebellions against the British.
In Wexford lore, the great moment is the Battle of Vinegar Hill of 1798. The Irish, like the Scots, has always sought to retain their heritage and gain their independence. The British seemed equally determined to smother and kill.
I am sure there are economic reasons for this history which dates prior to William the Conqueror's invasion.
The southern and eastern counties of Ireland are rich agricultural lands with rivers for transportation. Ireland, even more than Scotland, historically remained tribal - clans. Ireland has to reach back a 1000 years to find a king that had any success in unifying the clans. Ireland never created the population needed for large armies. As an island, Ireland was isolated from alliances. In short, "I need to give land to my nobles for their support, hey, how about Ireland".
Historically, the British have established their hegemony over nations by rationalization that the natives "were not English". The Irish would never be English.
As you read the 18th and 19th century history of Ireland, the English governance of Ireland was feudal.
During the Great Irish Famines - 1845-1852,  Ireland continued to export grains and cattle to the benefit of absentee landlords. A major factor in the decline of the Great Famine years was death and immigration - less population to be feed by the recovering potato crop.
The last Irish famine was the Famine of 1879. Famine was the norm - not the exception.
It is this history of survival and strife that is the pride of Wexford.
We are outside at 9 AM. A Nissan SUV is a little late. Our driver is the retired neighbor of our host and lives across the bridge over the harbor. It is his wife's car.
We tell him that we are hunting our heritage. We know very little other than we want to go to the Church in Cushinstown.  We are not certain of the location. He tells us neither is he. He has done some research overnight and he thinks he has found the crossroad.
We work our way through Wexford (lots of one ways) to the N25 and turn left. We are on the road to New Ross. It is a short drive - probably about 15 minutes. "Start looking of signs".
We drive past the crossroads. This must be it. There is the church.
St Mary's is not what I expected. It rests on a slight hill. It is stone. it is an active parish. The church is well tended with new roof. We drive up the curved driveway. We realize how ill prepared we are. Not the slightest idea. I think we thought there would be an old cemetery and we would find a grave stone marking the birth and death of a Mernaugh (Mernagh, Mernugh, Merney or Murnane or Murnan or Merneugh - spelling of family name is inconsistent and, apparently, phonetic).
There is a small cemetery and the gravestones are no more than 50 years old. The church, itself, was built in 1876.  This means that our ancestors may or may not have entered this building.
Our guide and I walk over to a man working on the grounds. He is the caretaker and a friendly. The Church is open and Bill, Caroline and Betty enter. I stay outside listening to the conversation between our driver and caretaker.
I learn Irishmen have an opinion on everything. They look at every aspect of a question. They admire. They correct when no correction is needed. They are quite simply enjoy the banter. Their own voices.
It is musical to me.
We learn that there are two older cemeteries in the area. We learn a family named Burns lived until a few years ago up the road at the near crossroads. The caretaker does not recognize the name Mernaugh locally. But, he had a friend in New Ross (next town further up the road) that was possibly named Mernaugh (again the lack of a definitive spelling and pronunciation hinders the search).
I leave the conversation as the two gentlemen get down to the hard business of directions to the two old cemeteries. I enter the church, admired and light three devotion candles for the three kids.
Betty, Bill and Caroline are sitting in the rear of the church. We are not on a great research expedition.
Our search is more to visit Ireland and, to some limited degree, understand the land that our fathers and mothers left. That does not mean that we don't want to get lucky.
With vague understanding, we leave St Mary's to search for the two cemeteries. The first cemetery is recent and we do a quick turn around.
The second cemetery is older and not well maintained. The family burial lots are still being used. We search. Nothing on the family. But, we feel a connection. These are our people. We are starting to understand how difficult - how desperate - our people must have been.
There are stones (more like large rocks) randomly placed throughout the cemetery. There is no obvious engravings. These are often the grave markers for the victims of the Great Famine.
Perhaps, there is a relative.
As I walk around with our neighbor driver, I ask how to repay him. Bill and I had agreed that we needed to make this drive. We thought that a car and driver for a half day would be 50-100 euros.
Our retiree driving his wife's SUV, does not want anything. We quickly agree on reimbursement for the gas. I insist on a gift of 30 euros.
We have not accomplished anything of note. It has been a glorious morning.
We have learnt that if we need to look further New Ross may be the place.
We return to Wexford for lunch. Say our "thank you and goodbye".  The recommended restaurant is in the Talbot Hotel. The Talbot is across the harbor from our apartment and will be a middling walk home. The restaurant is a local place and busy.
We are tired. After the walk back to the apartment and an early morning, we settle in for the rest of the afternoon. The apartment has no television which is not an issue. We have internet and conversation.
After recovery and the onset of hunger, I assign myself to find dinner. The grocery store around the corner closes at 5 PM. So I need to do a search for a store that is open. Not as easy as you think.
Central district of Wexford is compact. Nothing is more than a quarter of mile walk away.
Turn left - turn right and walk. Across from the train station is Dunnes.
Dunnes is my first "Target" like store in Europe. Dunnes sells clothing, small electronics, misc and groceries. It is much smaller than a small Target store. But, it has what I want - food and beverages.
I am very happy and relieved - since I was late to grocery shopping and what is in the  refrigerator is bland and not plentiful.
Tomorrow is a free day in Wexford.