Easing out of Lockdown

"I used to operate on auto-pilot," said the masked waitress. "I've been here a long time, but after three months off, and with all the new rules and all the re-organising, I have to be thinking all the time about who and what's where."

Socially distanced dining was a new experience for my husband and me as well. We were among the first guests to check into Dromoland Castle hotel in County Clare on Friday 3rd July, the first day of opening after the lockdown imposed on March 27th. It had lasted fourteen weeks.  
We stayed for three nights and ate all our meals in the hotel. Dining was an almost surreal experience.  Masked waiters moved around widely spaced tables set out under sparkling chandeliers. It was like being on the set of an eccentric production of Verdi's 'Un Ballo in Maschera'. 
The castle is decorated in the gothic style, with mouldings, richly decorated wallpaper, swags and pelmets on arcaded windows - all reflected in large mirrors. Tapestries, prints and paintings hang in the drawing room, bar and corridors. We were glad of the log fires everywhere, given the wet, windy weather and temperatures cooler than average for July. 
Our room was spotless, spacious and had a view of the lake and the 18th hole of the golf course that winds around it. 
Most importantly, the bed was supremely comfortable - the true test of a good hotel. 
Social distancing meant booking a specific time for breakfast and dinner, for the swimming pool - and, as is normally the case, for golf.  The course was in splendid condition.  I cannot say the same for my golf. My excuse for losing four balls - two in the lake and two in the rough - is the unseasonable weather. We played in gusty winds and torrential rain. 
We wore masks in all public areas, taking them off only to eat and drink. And we felt safe everywhere, except for a brief time in the indoor swimming pool. Although we were assured a safety assessment had judged the pool could take six swimmers at any one time, there were only four lanes.  
The hotel provides bicycles for guests. My husband cycled around the 450 acre estate. I explored a hidden, and unexpected glory of the estate, the magnificent walled gardens, based on designs by Louis XIV's gardener, André Le Nôtre. 
A real discovery, within the Dromoland estate but accessed by public road, was Mooghaun Hill Fort, a Bronze Age site hidden in woodland. We parked in the not-busy carpark and walked up through three circular stone walls. The view from the top over the surrounding lands and the Shannon estuary was somewhat hidden by the trees. We could only imagine its splendour three thousand years ago.  
We drove to the west coast of Clare in search of somewhere to sit outdoors and enjoy a glass of Guinness. But it was too wet and windy to sit outside the few pub restaurants that were open. The towns along the coast were unusually quiet. Lisdoonvarna, usually a lively spot, was deserted. I was almost blown off my feet on Doolin pier. The sea was white. Waves pounded the shore. It was somehow magnificent. 
I love County Clare, for its music, for the magnificence of the Burren and the Atlantic coast, for its great golf courses. My first novel, 'Singing Bird' is set largely on the west coast of Clare.
For thirty years I spent the last week of August at the Cumann Merriman Summer School. In fact, when deciding whether or not to leave Berkshire and move to Belfast, we went to the 2013 Summer School because that year's theme was: "Ireland North and South: two societies growing apart? Éire agus Ulaidh: ag dul a mbealach féin feasta?" The standard of debate and discussion was a deciding factor in our decision to move to Belfast at the end of that year. Despite the ups and downs, the "plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose' of politics, it's a decision we don't regret. We love being back on the island of Ireland. 
Virus permitting, we will go back to County Clare. And maybe I'll play better golf next time.