Move Over Emily in Paris, It’s Esraa Hezain in Ireland Now

“Esraa in Ireland” doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue the way Emily in Paris does, but hey, that’s life. I didn’t have couture outfits or a film crew following me around, but I did have wind-swept hair, Irish rain, and enough Guinness to float a small ship.

I went to Ireland this summer to visit family who had recently relocated there. Honestly, I didn’t have big expectations. My mental image of Ireland was straight out of the movies: rolling green hills, pub crawls, and a lot of cheerful, beer-loving folks who probably knew all the lyrics to every Ed Sheeran song. What I found was something far more beautiful and unexpected.

Ireland completely stole my heart.

It is one of the most stunning, nature-filled, and quietly magical countries I have ever been to. The people are warm, humble, funny, and surprisingly calm, even when the weather is doing five different things in one hour. And the food? Delicious, comforting, and portion-controlled in a way that makes every American question their life choices.

I stayed in a charming little town called Celbridge, just outside Dublin. It looked like a cozy downtown out of a movie with clean streets, small local shops, flowers spilling out of window boxes, and that signature Irish greenery that makes you feel like you accidentally walked into a fairytale. The air smelled like rain. And maybe scones.

One of the highlights of my trip was running a 5K there. But this wasn’t your average, headphone-in, suffer-in-silence run. This group had a rule: you chat while you run. Yes, run and talk at the same time. I thought, “No way,” but it was incredible. We ran, laughed, swapped stories, and I somehow forgot my legs were supposed to be dying. The weather helped, with that perfect breeze that cools you down just enough to make you feel like you could run forever.

Everywhere I turned, there was something beautiful. The castles looked straight out of Hogwarts, towering and majestic yet somehow cozy in that old-soul kind of way. The architecture across the towns and cities is so well-preserved it feels like stepping back in time. And then there was Dublin. A city that somehow manages to be both alive and calm at the same time. For a city, it’s clean. And that’s coming from someone who has lived in San Francisco and now in New York City, two places where you occasionally dodge things that should not be on sidewalks. Dublin felt refreshingly tidy, but still full of life. The people were friendly, the vibe was upbeat, and the shopping was surprisingly great. Lots of local brands mixed with new stores I had never heard of but instantly loved. Apparently, the Gen Z crowd already knew them. Stylish, affordable, and way too tempting for my suitcase weight limit.

Let’s talk about food portions. I swear, every time I travel abroad, I’m reminded that America has been lying to us about what “one serving” means. In Ireland, the portions were perfect. You order, you eat, you feel full, and there’s no awkward container of leftovers judging you for the rest of the day.

Now for the pubs. The pubs in Ireland were an experience all on their own. Every single one had its own personality, and you could walk into five different pubs in one night and feel like you had traveled through five different worlds. Live music poured out of every doorway, the kind that makes you start tapping your foot before you even realize it. Traditional Irish instruments filled the air, with fiddles, flutes, and drums blending perfectly with laughter and the sound of clinking glasses. What made it truly special was how alive everyone was. These were not just bars where people quietly sipped or loudly debated sports; they were joyful gatherings where strangers sang together, clapped along, and danced with complete strangers. Everyone seemed to enjoy the company of the whole room, not just the group they arrived with. It was less about the drinks and more about the connection, and I had never seen anything quite like it.

What stood out the most, though, were the people. The Irish have this unspoken warmth. Strangers actually stop to chat. Not a forced “hi” or polite nod, but real, genuine conversation. You feel seen. You feel welcomed. It’s the kind of place where small talk feels meaningful.

Ireland isn’t perfect, no country is, but it has this grounding energy. Something about the mix of history, humor, and humility makes you breathe a little deeper and smile a little easier. From the quiet mornings in Celbridge to the electric nights in Dublin, everything felt effortlessly right.

I went for family. I left with a full heart, sore legs from that 5K, and a desperate need to go back. Ireland, you’ve officially joined my list of favorite countries, and maybe even my favorite versions of myself.