Frank McCourt's "Angela's Ashes" walking tour in Limerick

My husband went all the way to Ireland for a rock band. I went for a book walking tour. Which one of us is more nerdy?

Don't answer that.

Here is the Patty who gave us our walking tour. He was adorable. He told the stories so enthusiastically, which is exactly how I read the book. (For some reason, he felt the need to literally squish me down. I was at least six inches taller than him, but he put his arm around and over me and squished me down for the picture, which is why I am painfully contorted.)

Apparently, a lot of people read the book and thought it was depressing or miserable. I read it and thought it was one of the funniest, most honest books I have ever read. It is one of my all time favorite books, so of course I wanted to do the tour in Limerick while we were in Ireland. Sadly, Mr. Frank McCourt passed away only a week before our Ireland trip, so I got to pay tribute to him while I was there as well.

When Frank was growing up, it was during the depression time. So a lot of the city was slum. Today, the city is booming. So most of the buildings he talks about in the book are torn down and replaced. Here is the lane that he would have to walk up to get to the two story house that was Italy upstairs and sewage downstairs, with the angel on the seventh step, and the second story that they eventually tore down and used for firewood, which obviously got them kicked out by their landlord. There are so many stories in that house, I was so sad to see it gone, but the way he described it I would be offended if it still existed!

And the pub at the bottom of the lane where they accidently let the baby's stroller go and it rolled right into the pub. The men were so freaked out, but then gave Frank & Malachy free lemonades for the entertainment of the day. So then they started going around trying to recreate it in all the pubs of the city and of course got in trouble.

Row houses like the one that belonged to his nasty distant cousin (who had the "excitement" with his mom, and who tried to get him to empty his chamber pot, which made him move out and then go live with his cousin who was "dropped on his head" as a child).

Here is the confession box where he would make up sins of his friends to make his own sins not seem so bad.

And the church where he received his first communion, which he later threw up in his Grandma's backyard and made her freak out that "god was in her backyard." That was one of my favorite stories.

Here is the house that they moved into right after his first twin brother died, and the window in the back on the second story was the one that the other twin would stare out of looking for his twin. Eventually, that twin died too and Frank's mom couldn't stand to be in that house any longer because it made her so sad.

Here was Frank's school. Oh the stories I could share about what happened here. All I can say is, read the book if you haven't already.

They had a memory book for people to sign. Josh snapped a picture. I always felt that Frank and I would be friends if we ever met. I'm sad I never got the chance.

And here is the St. Vincent Society where Frank's mom would have to go and basically embarrass herself by begging in front of a whole crowd of people so that she could have shelter, furniture, and food for her family.

And on the way over a bridge, I snapped a picture of the River Shannon, which Frank hated and believed was the reason so many people were sick and dying in Limerick. I have to say, that was the coldest and wettest day we experienced.

Now I need to go track that book down and read it again.