Growing up on opposite coasts, my husband and I had parallel fantasies of leaving our suburban childhoods behind for the "civilized" life: We would be rich and European, ideally with a manor thrown in. These (now slightly embarrassing) imaginings may be in check, but the pull of a life right out of the pages of The World of Interiors is still strong. So, while on a trip to Dublin with our 4-year-old daughter, Clara, we made a detour to Ballyvolane House, a regal 1728 family estate and inn located in Ireland's East County Cork—and seemingly plucked straight from our dreams.
It turned out to be a fairly serious detour—a little over three hours. But our perseverance paid off. At the end of a hedge-lined road, beyond pastures of grazing cows and fly-fishing-ready ponds, we came to the Georgian mansion. We were greeted by the owners, Justin and Jenny Green, a chic thirtysomething couple who live at Ballyvolane with their three kids. Jenny immediately read our minds and asked if we would like to have supper there—a huge relief, as we hadn't made plans and dreaded the idea of strapping Clara back into the car to find a restaurant. We passed through a sitting room, where a fat 20-year-old cat named Archie lounged on a tufted couch, and then we climbed the mahogany stairs to the bedrooms. With a view of astonishingly green fields, our room had crisp bedding, a claw-foot tub, just the right amount of heavy antiques for the setting, and none of the more cloying B&B frills (stinky potpourri, cross-stitched anything).
After mixing our own drinks downstairs and taking a walk around the walled garden, we sat down to supper in the dining room. A wood fire roared, and the long table had been set just for us, complete with candelabras, linen, and formal silverware. Clara's place had been made specially, with plastic utensils laid out just like ours. She was served a hearty shepherd's pie, with ketchup on the table, while we made our way through a four-course meal that included duck confit and a sampling of Irish cheeses. Ten minutes into the meal, when Clara had finished and was getting fidgety, Jenny offered to put on a Charlie and Lola DVD in the TV-and-toy room next to us. I was dumbstruck: How could this be? Was I actually having dinner alone with my husband? Without paying a sitter? An hour later, we were all full and happy.
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