County Wicklow, Ireland: Travels with my Irish mammy, aka the breakfast buffet bandit

It was when the third bread roll slid quietly into the open bag that I realised my mother Mary may have a problem.

Sat in the back of the hotel dining room, away from the prying eyes of the restaurant manager (later dubbed ‘The Coffee Police’), there was a mischievous glint in the eyes of the woman who had raised me “proper”, and it wasn’t long before she made me an accomplice.

“Go on. Your turn to get some.”

Dutifully off I went, piling tiny carb bombs on a plate, rushing back to avoid The Coffee Police and her lieutenants of wait staff.

But hopes of any positive approval were soon dashed: “Not those, the other ones. The sweet ones.”

Admonished, I scurried back to the buffet table, flicking the unwanted rolls back into baskets, and refilling the plate with the correct treats. A happy Mary soon departed the dining room with her squirrelled away goodies, saved for future tea breaks at home.

The fact that she is a bit of a baked goods Artful Dodger was just one of the revelations during our mini-break. It was the first time we had ever gone on a holiday away from other family and friends, just mother and son together.

When I had previously suggested we go on a jaunt, she only had three requests – be near to her home in Dublin, make it about gardens and/or history, but not have much walking. The county of Wicklow, just south of the Irish capital, ticked all the boxes – it greedily has two tourist slogans, The Garden of Ireland and The Heart of the Ancient East.

At 84 years young (she looks 64), Mum uses a trusty walking stick now, which means travel takes on a more leisurely pace. Instead of rushing around, everything just slowed down. Literally, we were stopping and smelling the roses.

Our slim itinerary wasn’t foreign to us. We have been to the Powerscourt House and Gardens near Enniskerry many times over the years. Memories of a much younger version of myself running down the vast banks of grass in the manicured gardens of the stately house raced back to me.

Set on 19 hectares, it was named the third-best garden in the world by National Geographic. Chatting with Alex Slazenger, head gardener and one of the members of the family which owns the estate, Mum turned on the charm and what was supposed to be a quick five-minute meet-and-greet became a 40-minute discussion on sustainability and nature. I think she was a bit smitten.

There’s a lot of history in the house as well, having started life as a castle in the 13th century before many updates, quite a few owners and one very big fire, but now it’s home to some fancy shops and a busy café.

Speaking of, when you travel with an Irish mammy, coffee shops become essential destinations, it’s like catnip for them.

We had many stops with cream buns and bulging sandwiches wolfed down, the teas and coffees flowing. There was a quick brew and cake at the majestic 121-metre high Powerscourt Waterfalls and another cuppa at the ancient mediaeval site of Glendalough following a gentle stroll through the 6th century monastic settlement.

Nearby, the National Botanic Gardens in Kilmacurragh offered a collection of plants from around the world (New Zealand is represented by a sturdy cabbage tree), as well as, yes, another café.

Each stop was another chance to talk to the “auld one” about her life growing up on the west coast of Ireland, how she fell into a career in nursing, and the time she moved across the Irish Sea to hospitals in the UK. Tales of high jinks with her fellow students flowed, as well as stories of courting fellas (one potential beau got a bit handsy in the cinema and got a stiletto in the palm for his efforts).

There were stories I’d never heard before, with a lot of laughing and much reminiscing. I found out more about my parents’ first ever meeting in Castlebar Hospital in County Mayo when my medical student father Jack walked into the children’s ward Mary was on, and she thrust a random baby into his arms and told him to feed them.

It was pretty much love at first sight, and he wasted no time in asking for a date. After his stint at the hospital finished and he returned to Dublin, Mum thought the relationship would end, only for Dad to start writing letters. “They weren’t very romantic,” she confessed with a smile. Still, the love blossomed and over their 50 years together they “never had an argument, never fell out. We never, ever ended a day without being friends”.

Dad passed away in 2011, leaving a giant hole in the fabric of our family. I never got to talk to him like I am now with Mum. It just made me think about how we need to take our opportunities while we still can and in our two days travelling around Wicklow, both Mum and I embraced our glorious chance to bond and create new memories.

It certainly helped enrich the love I already had for an amazing woman – Mary, the Breakfast Buffet Bandit.

Fact file:

Powerscourt House & Gardens, Enniskerry, County Wicklow. Entry is €9 (NZ$16.20) for adults and €4 (NZ$7.20) for children under 16. Under fives go free. See: powerscourt.com

Staying there: BrookLodge & Macreddin Village is located in the heart of Wicklow and features a luxury adults-only spa, as well as an award-winning restaurant, pub and a golf course. Rooms start at €134 (NZ$242) a night. See: brooklodge.com

Getting there: Air New Zealand flies to Los Angeles and San Francisco, with Aer Lingus flights onwards to Dublin.

Carbon footprint: Flying generates carbon emissions. To reduce your impact, consider other ways of travelling, amalgamate your trips, and when you need to fly, consider offsetting emissions.

The writer was assisted by Failte Ireland.