Ever since the Shamus O’ Shout met Mary McOut in a quiet pub on the Dingle Peninsula in 1586, the legacy of ShoutOuts has been growing. In honor of the upcoming holiday and Irish heritage, ShoutOuts goes green with envy over the Emerald Isle.

Giant’s Causeway

Just a few hours outside Belfast, on the shores of the North Channel, lies a natural land of mystery. Thousands of perfectly shaped, six-sided rock pillars cluster together and create one of the coolest and most interesting sights the world over. Created by God, volcano or big, hairy giant–whichever geological logic you subscribe to–this naturally occurring wonder has mystified rock docs and Nikon-touting tourists for ages. Flanked by other scenic beauties such as Fair Head Bay and Carrick-a-Rede Bridge (a jaunt which will have you humming the Indiana Jones theme as you trek over an 80-foot chasm), The Giant’s Causeway is just one of the highlights on the breath-taking Antrim Coast.

–AR

Dalky Island

Set in the picturesque and aptly nicknamed Irish Riveria, Dalky Island provides an escape from the hustle and bustle of nearby Dublin. Full of lush green grass, some monastic remains and a few random goats, visitors can take in the fresh breezes of the Atlantic and the views of the wealthy and pictorial Eastern Irish countryside. But “Survivor” this isn’t. Dalky is too peaceful and calm for that bickering. Think more “Walden.” With no permanent residents (except, of course, the goats and very few tourists), Dalky is the perfect place to relax, reflect and rejuvenate. Just don’t miss the boat back to the mainland–those goats can be creepy at night.

–AR

Harp

Brewed in the same plant as its parent beer Guinness, Harp has always been my favorite Irish suds. The first time I sipped on the full-bodied brew, I was at Dublin’s Temple bar. 17 years was my age–the beginning of a fabulous relationship with inebriation. Harp is not as rich as its big bro, a true benefit when going the distance. Yes, the black stuff is a St. Patty’s day must, but should be sipped at the end of the festivities; Harp will get you there.

Dirty Nelly’s

I was using the facilities at the Detroit airport some two years after my trip to Ireland when I ran into an Irish chap wearing the exact same t-shirt as me. No, it wasn’t the Detroit Tigers’ Tasmanian Devil number that one sees everywhere when venturing to the motor city. It was a Dirty Nelly’s souvenir, each with matching holes in the sleeve where the ultra-cheap fabric had worn away. During our encounter, we reminisced about the oldest bar in Europe (as the sign reads upon entering the pub a hop outside Dublin). At Nelly’s, the beer selection reads Guinness all the way, with a second option for Jameson. But the real catcher at the stone-walled pub that lies adjacent to the Bunratty castle is its beer garden. With tropical plants abounding, it’s like the beach–with a more pasty population.