hen I arrived at Echo Lodge in Ballingarry, County Limerick, I thought I would be staying, as the brochure said, at a small hotel that "oozes style and tasteful excellence." I would have dinner at The Mustard Seed, a highly acclaimed restaurant, and then pitch headfirst into bed, with my clothes on, to sleep for 12 hours. In the morning I would take a walk, get in my rented car and discover Ireland. I hadn't counted on discovering Daniel Mullane.

"You must be shattered," Daniel, owner of Echo Lodge and The Mustard Seed said after my arrival. He knew I was probably up all night on the transatlantic flight. My eyes were scratchy and my skin looked like death.

It was a few days before the tourist season started so the hotel was fairly quiet. Daniel had time to talk and ordered tea and scones for me. He was shortish, with pale skin and graying brown hair and looked like a cross between a preppy Santa's elf and a man who strikes a hard bargain. In short order, I learned that Daniel is an antique collector, a world traveler, proprietor of two successful businesses, a godfather, uncle, son, and brother. His hospitality and easy flow of stories, told while he answered the phone, directed kitchen staff, checked on orders, and tidied the parlor - all with the energy of a preschooler - temporarily vanquished my jet lag. But when my refreshments arrived, he sat down, gave me all his attention, and answered my questions about the hotel and restaurant.

Echo Lodge was built in 1884 by a parish priest to upset the Protestant rector across the road. Sold to a community of nuns, it had been unoccupied and was in disrepair when Daniel bought it. Today, it looks both grand and earthy, both British country house and Tuscan farm estate, with the addition of a glassed in passage to a renovated schoolhouse with large family suites. It is painted butter yellow, in the palette of Ireland's country villages - mango, avocado, lemon whip, peach sherbet - and is on seven acres of land Daniel is civilizing.

When Daniel decided to move his successful restaurant from the well-traveled tourist town of Adare to the back road village of Ballingarry, people told him he was crazy, that he wouldn't get the traffic. But things have changed in Ireland. With the successful economy, "the Celtic Tiger," people have more money. With more money, they have more cars. With more cars and a lack of infrastructure to support traffic, the cities are getting crowded and people are getting irritable. They need a break. They have the cars and the money. So they come to Echo Lodge to be taken care of, which Daniel is very good at.

The Echo Lodge/Mustard Seed staff are totally international - one cook is from Kuala Lumpur, and the young man who took my luggage was from Poland. "In Ireland none of the help is Irish," Daniel said. "With the current economy, the schools are better. Bright young people are working in technology. The romantic image of the red-headed, freckle-faced Irish girl is gone. We're a multicultural, Europeanized country - but with roots."

Dinner at the Mustard Seed is as good as all the reviews and reports. I had smoked salmon blini with hollandaise sauce and chive cream as an appetizer, fricassee of organic chicken with forest mushrooms, purple sprouting broccoli and truffle cream, and baked rhubarb and apricot crumble for dessert. My room in the house, the old part of Echo Lodge, was lovely, and you could turn around in the bathroom, which is rare in all of the UK. Fabulous cooking and fine rooms were found anywhere you look and if can pay for them. But what I loved about this place was Daniel Mullane, who was a hands on proprietor and greeted guests personally. "Each guest is cosseted," it said in the brochure. And that is the truth.

The next morning, Daniel showed me his hens, and pulled an egg out of his sleeve (or so it seemed) for my breakfast. There is also an herb and vegetable garden, an orchard, and other land he is reclaiming from the back of the house that was once wild. He grew up on a small farm picking wild berries, eating mushrooms, and raising chickens before going to boarding school in Dublin, so he is familiar with the food chain. What he doesn't grow himself, he gets from local farmers.

As I discussed my plans for the day, Daniel telephoned ahead to each place to let them know that I'll be coming. He gave me some chocolates and a dress to drop off at Glin Castle for his godchild. Driving around to see historic homes and castles in the area, I felt l like I was being passed around from neighbor to neighbor, a long-held tradition in Ireland that, despite the country's growth, still holds true. Each place knew where I was, where I'm was going next and how to get there. When I arrived at Glin Castle to give Daniel's friend his daughter's Easter gifts, his friend gave me a load of pans and silverware he had borrowed from Daniel to take back to Echo Lodge. This is the way things are done. You don't make a special trip to pick something up if you know someone who is going that way. You don't use the post if you can avoid it. You don't email if you can pick up the phone, and it's always a human, never a menu of buttons to push. They seem to not only like people, but to value them in a way I've been missing.

When I leave Echo Lodge the next morning, Daniel asked his young nephew to choose a gift for me from a cabinet where he kept souvenirs of his travels to Thailand and other Asian countries. The boy chose a small notebook and pencil, which I tucked into my pocket to use later. "Now you can write something down about your visit to Ireland," Daniel said. I'm already scribbling, "'You must be shattered,'" says Daniel when I arrive at Echo Lodge after a transatlantic flight."