“The sun had fallen low in the sky when Dan Perkins, grizzled and grey haired, stumbled into the smoky parlour of the Fortune Trail Saloon. His face was tanned, his clothes were worn and soiled, and he smelled like the back end of a pack-mule. Leaning against the blackened oak counter to steady himself, Dan wiped a spill of fresh blood from his eyebrow, slammed a fist-sized bag of gold dust onto the counter and demanded a bottle of The Last Rites – a foul, chestnut-coloured mixture of Irish whiskey, Indian medicinal herbs, and homemade moonshine, popular among the dying and those who no longer cared to live.”
FIONN DAVENPORT, Travel writer
Watch your language
Avoid using the particularly noxious language that is travel-writerese . The sea is rarely (sadly) emerald green and there's never been a "breathtaking" sunset, unless someone has punched you in the solar plexus just as the sun was going down. And, speaking of precious stones, the only time you can describe something as a 'hidden gem' is if you've actually unearthed a diamond from the dirt, in which case you're in clover and can write anything you want - but it's never acceptable to describe a restaurant as an "eatery."
Between the 17th and early 20th centuries, the Irish language was gradually replaced by English in most parts of Ireland. Famine and migration in the 19th and 20th centuries led to its further decline. However when the Republic of Ireland came into being in 1922, Irish was adopted as an official language, along with English, and the government and civil service become, in theory at least, officially bilingual. Irish terms were also adopted for the titles of public figures and organisations - Garda (Police), Taoiseach (Prime Minister), Dáil (Parliament).