Tír na nÓg is a little piece of my Irish background. It's a kind of a heaven. A Valhala of sorts, only not as crowded, and none of those pushy Norse gods. The translation is "Land of the Forever Young."
Physically, I stuck in Vermont. Which tends to be about one of the coldest in the lower 48. It is damned cold at times, and we do have Wiccas and other bizarre groups here. Years ago I did date one Wicca. As I recall, no part of her anatomy was cold. Or hot for that matter. I just remember warm, firm and ah, well, best not go into all that here.
I thought you were south of the equator?