We took a ferry to Aran island, home of the cable knit sweater. It was all very quaint and cute, albeit a definite tourist trap. I can't imagine what it was like in August. September is absolutely the time to come. It was intoxicating walking into some of the shops just packed with hand knit woolen items up to the ceiling.
We learned all about the different Aran stitches, which were used to identify men lost at sea among other things. Each family had its own sweater patterns to identify themselves. Interesting concept. I think the army should adopt it quite frankly rather than dog tags. And I think the soldiers ought to knit them themselves as well. A kinder, gentler army.
The arm of our horse and buggy driver- a true Irishman- biting sarcasm, weathered smile and charm for miles.
