Castle Leslie deliberately downplays its promotion and advertising, but after the estate hosted the wedding of Sir Paul McCartney and Heather Millsin 2002, which was televised live to 800 million people, its existence is no longer a secret. Guests are strongly encouraged to make reservations in advance.

The atmosphere there is that of staying in someone's private home - which, essentially, you are.  Sheet music rests on the piano, war medals are displayed on a table, and a fire crackles in the 600-year-old Italian fireplace.
You immediately consider yourself a guest of the family.

Solitude is a key ingredient of the experience. Most people wander the grounds, sip wine in front of the main fireplace, and stroll downstairs for dinner, all at no particular time. In some ways, it's like being in a Las Vegas casino, because there are no clocks, telephones, TVs, or radios in the rooms. (According to the castle's staff, Americans in particular are astonished that they can't check their e-mail 24 hours a day.)

During one of these timeless, phoneless, Internet-free afternoons, I end up in the main sitting room, eavesdropping on two American couples discussing how they baby their dogs.  The restlessness builds up inside me, and a staff member apparently senses this, for she recommends a hike around the fishing lake that's adjacent to the castle.  It typically takes about an hour, and wellies (rubber Wellington boots) are available for guests at the front door. 

I find the wall of rubber boots and quickly realize that I could never be Irish nobility; my feet are too big.  The path departs from the entrance and soon turns into a muddy bog, and I'm wearing only trainers.  Not that I've ever trained in them.  The wellies sit in their warm racks back at the castle.