Mom & Dad did a cruise through Ireland a few years ago. A beautiful Dutch barge restored to a high standard and a young French chef among the crew.
The other passengers were a couple from Texas with an eye to buy some horses for breeding.
The days sort of melted away over the 2 weeks. The 2 Dads disappeared after breakfast to buy some bread and ended up in the pub to see if the 'Black Stuff' had changed flavour from the day before. They wobbled back to the boat on push bikes with the bread missing some crusty bits from one side.
The girls, however, had planned a little ahead. In the mornings a dapper young Irish lad was waiting for them in neat tweeds and an embarressment of a flat-hat that had seen a bit too much 'farm' (it had it's own microclimate apparently). As they clambered into the back of the rusty Range Rover, a bloodstock agent was waiting to sell them "..some of the finest horses in all Ireland. Perhaps one of them has only t'ree working legs but very, very fine..." sort of sales blarney. They too returned to the barge after some aromatic 'working tea' from the yard owner.
After long lunches on deck and local foods for supper, they bimbled towards Dublin and just wanted to turn it around again and go back.
Can you blame them?