Summary
This impossibly romantic crenellated cardboard cut-out of a castle perches by the River Shannon on a finger of land pointing from Ireland's south-western corner towards America. It's an exposed spot but the winds off the Atlantic don't penetrate the castle's robust walls. The bedroom and bathroom -- which, with its elegant bow window, was the size of a football penalty area -- were as warm as the soda bread toast at breakfast.
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Extract
To the Manor Born
The days of lukewarm leftovers and a bed shared with his lordship's cat have long gone from Irish country-house hotels. A combination of the rampant Celtic Tiger economy and the exacting standards of the American tourist means th...
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