GreenDragon

Saturday, May 21st: "That'll be E15 Euros. Close the door, you're letting the weather in"
We had an early start today, out at 7am and off to the ferry at Rossaveal to get to Inis Mor. It was a gloomy, rainy morning, lowering clouds and a bit depressing. We packed only what we wanted to bring on the island, as there was no need to bring 7 days of clothes when 2 will do, and we couldn't bring our car on the island – only residents could do that. It was a 1.5 hour drive to the ferry dock, and we met very few cars on the road on the way. We stopped at a Spar in Rossaveal, got some snacky bits to make up for missing breakfast. While scanning the items on offer, we saw Spam – selling for E4.99. We figured we could buy a bunch and bring it over, make a killing.

While we waited for the ferry (we were about an hour early, just in case something had gone wrong), we decided that Ireland is a bit of a contradiction. Everyone drives fast, but does things slowly. Things may say they will open at 7 (if hours are posted at all), but not really open until 8. Perhaps they just want to hurry and get off the roads so they will have to pass fewer people on the road? Debe had mentioned things don't really get going until 9 or 10 in the morning, but many stay up late at night. In the US, if a place is closed, that open sign is turned off, turned around, but definitely gone. They seem to leave them up everywhere in Ireland, even when a place is obviously closed.

We went in to where the ferry parking lot was, confirmed our prepaid tickets, and headed to the dock itself. It was pouring rain at this point, with high winds, so the umbrella was useless. I couldn't even get my poncho on due to the strong wind, it threatened to fly away, so I just pushed through, carrying my smaller bag (without wheels, unfortunately). We boarded the ferry amidst a group of American teenage tourists, one of which sitting behind me seemed so vacuous I was afraid my brain cells were being siphoned off due to extreme osmosis. The trip was very choppy due to the wind, and one woman a couple rows from us lost her breakfast, and was almost carried into the back of the ferry, where the rocking up and down wasn't as pronounced.

Luckily for us, both V and I have iron stomachs, and considered this to be a roller coaster ride and rather fun. When we docked, it was still pouring and the wind was still raging. We rushed in (with everyone else) to the tourist office. I wasn't sure if our B&B host was going to pick us up, so I tried to give him a call – busy. The very helpful lady at the tourist office said the jitney tour busses lining the dock doubled as taxis, and they would be able to take us out to the cottage (which was about 5 miles along the 9 mile island). That was great in theory, but the first driver we approached (an older man with a blue van) said he wasn't interested. The second driver (a younger man with a red van) was also reluctant, but finally agreed to let us at least sit in the bus until he got a full load of tourists. We got the impression that, if he was able to get a full tour-load, we would be asked to get back off, and try a different taxi driver.

The driver waited about 15-20 minutes, while I continued to try our B&B on the phone. I finally got through (I was worried that our host was out there looking for us) and was assured by Maura, our hostess, that Joe wasn't there, and that we should go ahead and take the taxi. Meanwhile, the driver had started gathering a larger group. He dropped some off at other B&Bs (turned out he had a taxi day rather than a tour day, after all), and then picked up some others to do the same. One of these groups had Jeff – an organizer of a tour group of some 40 people from Dublin, here for the weekend. One sat next to me, Ken, and we started chatting. He had been to the US, even lived in NYC for a year.

With everyone else nearby dropped off, our driver started the tour for the 4 people left in the bus, and headed towards the center of the island, where our B&B was, Man of Aran Cottage (http://www.manofarancottage.com/). When he made it to the village near Dun Aengosa, he dropped off the tour folks and then down the street and around the corner, dropping us off at our place. Warm, safe and dry at last!

The cottage was charming, lovely, and nicely restored. It had been used in the film Man of Aran, a 1934 film about life on the island (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0025456/), thatched and comfortable. Our room (#5) was in the next building, nicely done with wood floors, a decent sized room with a window overlooking the water, and a rather tiny bathroom (by US standards – normal by European standards).

V and I were both thoroughly tired of the rain and gloom, and since we couldn't use our car to get around the island and stay dry, she decided to stay put for a while and read. I went in to the dining area, and chatted with Maura a bit, taking her up on her offer for tea and biscuits. We talked about island life, politics, crime, jewelry (I dragged out my stuff again, and she was kind enough to buy a pair of my gingko leaf earrings), depression, finance, weight, etc. It was a thoroughly enjoyable alternative afternoon to slogging through the rain.

She told me that Joe Watty's, a pub I was looking forward to visiting, served food from about 6pm to 8:30pm, and I went back to the room and checked my email and Facebook (yes, they have WiFi, yay!). I started getting stir-crazy then – I didn't travel 3000 miles to stay inured in the B&B! So, when the sun started burning through a bit, I put on my rain poncho and went walking to the nearby village. I remembered it from last time I was here, and they had hearty soups and wonderful Guinness chocolate cake.

I ended up walking the same way the bus had come, which I discovered later was the long way around, but it was a nice enough walk. The rain came and went, but I was thoroughly ponchoed (the umbrella was useless in the wind). I got into the village, did a little shopping in the shops, and traded a few phrases of Irish with the locals. They all seemed impressed that I even tried, and I was gratified that my accent could be understood.

Once the tour busses filled back up and took all the extras away, I wandered into Nan Phaddy's to find a warm, welcoming, toasty fire in the fireplace, hot vegetable soup on the menu, and a seat near the fire waiting for me. I met a girl from Malta who was visiting, she was part of the group from Dublin. I can't now remember her name, but we talked for a little bit then and later on as well. I also heard another of the Dublin 40 speaking Spanish, and was delighted to discover I could understand every word she said. Since I grew up in Miami, I speak Spanish passably well, but Cuban Spanish is much faster than some of the other accents, and it is difficult for me to understand when the words stop. I concluded that she was from Spain, as her words were well-enunciated. I asked her '¿Eres tú de España?', and she answered yes – it was great! I spoke two foreign languages that day, and was understood in both. We get our little joys out of life in odd ways, don't we?

Jeff came in after a while, and extended an invitation to join them at Joe Watty's later, even giving me his cell number. Since I was planning on going there anyhow, I told him that would be great. With V feeling unsocial, I wanted to have someone I knew already there. While I don't mind going in blind, it's much nicer if there is at least one person you've met before.

I headed back to the B&B via the shorter route, which was only about ten minutes to walk. There was no rain for the first couple of minutes, and then it returned with a vengeance. When I got back to the room, V was happily playing on her iPad, and I set my clothes and jacket on the radiator to dry. That's when the sun decided to come out and start shining through, even revealing some lovely, much missed brilliant blue patches in the sky. I decided to take advantage of the unusual weather and set out to walk the 4.5 miles to Joe Watty's. I could have called a taxi, but I wanted to absorb that rare sunshine.

Since my sneakers were soaked, I put on my other shoes and started out. The walk was long and windy, up and down hills, in and out of sun and rain. I did develop a small blister on one toe, but made it in about an hour and a half without problems. I saw several folks driving, another walker, and a biker. I saw a ship anchored off the island, and was later told it was a National Geographic vessel, doing a story on the local wildlife. Along the route I also saw two donkeys, about a dozen chickens (the most we had yet seen in Ireland), several horses, and a gang of young hostelers.

When I got to Joe's, I saw several tables marked Reserved, and concluded that this is where Jeff's group was planning on sitting, but no one that I knew was there yet. I went up to the bar, and got myself a pint of cider and a Smoked Mackerel Salad. The smoky, salty flavor of the fish worked perfectly with the sweet balsamic dressing, it was delicious. There was a game on television, and everyone was very excited about it – Leinster was playing, and they won. This was evidently a good thing, judging by the cheering and other reactions. I'm rather a dunce about sports, but the mood was infectious.

Jeff and his crowd started trickling in a bit later. They were all part of a group called "New and Not So New in Dublin", a social group that did all sorts of meet-ups and gatherings. I sat with and talked with several people. Fernando, who was from Mexico and just moved to Dublin a short while ago; Maria who was from Belgium, originally; Jeff, the social butterfly who flitted from group to group; Louisa, who had a huge plate of stone crab claws, and was somewhat apprehensive about being able to get them open; Ken, the gentleman who sat next to me on the bus, looked like a younger version of Ian McShane, and was an accountant like me; Declan, who had lived in Thailand for a year teaching English, and was about to embark on the same job in Barcelona. Declan and I actually got along quite well – we both loved trivia and history, so we chatted a lot. I showed off the jewelry once again, and got lots of compliments.

After everyone else finished their dinner, the pints started flowing. Ken got Declan to start drinking Gin & Tonics, which I wouldn't think would mix well with the cider, so I stuck with my Bulmers. The singer started up, and we all danced and sang to songs like The Gambler, Country Roads (really? Is West Virginia so popular in Ireland??), Piano Man, With or Without You, Daydream Believer, Fields of Athenry, Molly Malone, Stuck in the Middle with You, Galway Girl, etc. The place was now packed, with at least one hen party, several groups of guys, and with a couple outright stumbling drunks.

I went outside for some cooler air, as the wind was still whipping about with bits of rain. There was a pub dog playing fetch with whoever was willing to throw the straw (we couldn't find a proper stick for him). The wind was raw and wild, so it drove me back inside for more fun.

As it neared 11, I decided to try to find a ride back to the cottage – I didn't want to get stuck walking back in that weather. I made my way through the dancing crowd to the bar, and asked one of the girls to ring up a taxi for me. When I went outside, the guy in the blue van was there again – he wanted E15 for a 5 mile drive. I thought perhaps he wanted to haggle, so I offered E5 (Ken had told me that E2 was more normal, but it had been E5 that morning). He said that wasn't even going to pay for the petrol – now shut the door, the weather is coming in. Well, I went back into the pub, and asked the girl if that was really the going rate, or was he trying to gouge me? PJ, the owner of the bar, heard me, and got very upset. He said it was a ridiculous sum, and that he'd take me himself.

Now, the pub was STUFFED with people. He had a great staff, but for him to leave his own pub in the middle of a Saturday night crowd just to take a tourist home was incredible. He was livid about the taxi driver, and wanted to make sure that this wasn't the impression I took away about Irish hospitality. PJ, you more than made up for that man's attempt to gouge the tourist. Your kindness and help is what I will remember, and pass on to everyone who will listen. Thank you!

I am very glad I didn't attempt the walk back, as it was by now pitch black, and there is NO light on that route. I would have used up what was left of my cell phone charge to try to see and not stumble on some unsuspecting donkey, or tumble over a dry mortar wall.

irishface

What a great read! Thanks!

Your story of the dark road reminds me of two young friends of mine who went off to a pub about a mile from their B&B one evening. It was very dark coming home, so they kept lighting matches to see their way. Luckily it was a pleasant evening, but even so, I think the matches were used up before they got home.

irishface

What a great read! Thanks!

Your story of the dark road reminds me of two young friends of mine who went off to a pub about a mile from their B&B one evening. It was very dark coming home, so they kept lighting matches to see their way. Luckily it was a pleasant evening, but even so, I think the matches were used up before they got home.

GreenDragon

Out on Inis Mor, there are no lights - no ambient light, no street lights, it's very pitch black. And in an hour and a half, I am sure I would have hurt myself several times trying to walk back that uneven, bumpy, twisted road...

GreenDragon

Sunday, May 22nd: "It's not my inner thighs that hurt, it's my inner butt!"
We slept well, and saw sun in the sky, so we set off to breakfast with refreshed vigor and high hopes for the day ahead. Maura had broken her ankle, and was off to an anniversary mass for her mother's death a year ago, so Joe was cooking breakfast for us. I had some wonderful smoked salmon, and loved a country in which I could have this for breakfast and not be considered odd.

We were concerned about the weather. PJ had mentioned that there was a storm due to come in tomorrow, with 45mph winds; he listened to the marine forecast. When I discussed this with Joe and Maura, they did express some concern as well. PJ had thought they might cancel the ferry back, which would mean we needed to stay on the island a third night, and make arrangements for that and a missed night in our next stop.

Maura was certain that they wouldn't cancel the ferry, but we were still a bit worried. The ferry office said they wouldn't know until the time of the ferry the next day, so we decided that, to play it safe, we would take the morning ferry out instead of the noon ferry, as we had planned. That way, if one or even two were cancelled, we could still get out on the third. The blow was unlikely to cancel all three. Joe said he'd arrange an early breakfast and a taxi to go out to the docks with us and our stuff. What wonderful service (as long as the taxi wasn't Joe Gill and his blue van)!

Joe said he would order some bikes delivered so we could have a little more mobility and freedom, but they wouldn't be here until 10am. In the meantime, we walked up to the village. No tourists yet this day, so everything was still locked up tight, but we decided to see if we could get through to Dun Aengosa, which was nearby. The visitor centre had evidently just opened up, and I think they were quite surprised to see us so early. We climbed the path up to the 2,500 year old fort, from about sea level to a 300 foot cliff. It was amazing to have the place to ourselves – the last time I'd been there, I was a daytripper with all the others, and there were probably about 75 people all over the place. This time we had no one but us, the wind, and the now shining sun. It felt prehistoric, momentous, and intimate at the same time. The high wind meant great, crashing, powerful waves far down on the cliffs and rocks below us.

We tore ourselves away from this wonderful place, and got our bikes. Now, this is the first time I'd ridden a bike in probably 25 years, and I wasn't nervous at all until I realized what I was about to try. I'm still a very heavy girl, even though I've lost 100 pounds, I've another 100 to go until I'm at a 'normal' weight. But, after adjusting the seat up much higher than it was (I was hitting my knees on the handlebars!) we headed off towards the Seven Churches.

We saw a sign for Clochan na Carraige – I thought I remembered something about that, but the brown sign gave no indication of what it was. We parked our bikes and started walking down a path. Then down another path. And another – mazing through short dry stone fences, we finally gave up. We found out later it was a beehive hut, which is fine, I'd seen many of those before, and V wasn't particularly interested in them. I think that's about the time I took my first spill on the bike, landing on the knee I hadn't hurt when I fell at Carrowmore. I felt better with a matched set – again, it wasn't a particularly injuring fall, but it did concern V that I fell again.

We went on towards Seven Churches, and found it shortly thereafter, about 2 miles down from the B&B. As we walked down the driveway to the site, there were two farmers (and their dog) trying to get a very upset cow to stay in a pasture. She had another cow with her, and a calf, and she was complaining loudly, and trying to escape at various points in the field. We quickly vacated so the farmers could get their job done without worrying about stupid tourists hanging about getting hurt.

We explored the Seven Churches area a little bit, and took lots of photos (V preferred the beach and coastline, so went and looked at that while I tramped around the church). Again, it was delightful to wander around, get the shots I wanted to get without other people in the way. I found the exact spot I had taken one of my more popular photographs at in 2006, and tried to recreate it. That never works, but I keep trying.

We got back on the bikes and started the long trek to Kilronan – about 7 miles from where we now were. We were foolish and did not take the coastal road, not realizing that it was much more up and down, hill and valley. I fell at a couple more times, usually when braking. I couldn't get the bike out of 6th gear (they were both pretty old and rusty, and I think they were both stuck in 6th) so getting up hills was difficult – we walked them up. The bike chain fell off the gears when I tried to switch them, but V figured out how to fix that. Then my brakes seized up on me – I had a bit of a tantrum, and V suggested we switch bikes, since she had ridden them more recently than I had. That seemed to work a little better, and we made it safe and sound to Joe Watty's. I was SO ready for a pint and some lunch!

We walked in, and found Declan waiting for his own lunch, so we joined him and chatted some more. I was disappointed that the mackerel salad I had loved the night before wasn't on the lunch menu, but got a Greek Salad instead, and it was delicious. V wasn't yet hungry from the Full Irish Breakfast she had eaten, so we just had some pints and talked politics, education, etc. We left Declan and went off into town for some serious shopping.

I had remembered the large woolen outlet from the last trip, and had been looking forward to the selection. I was looking for a sweater to keep me warm the next winter, so it had to be too small for me now, longer (past the hips), zipper was preferred, pockets, and a darker color. White and off-white don't mix well with me, it gets instantly dirty!

I found one that fit my requirements, but decided to shop at the other shops a bit before deciding. We laughed at some of the kitschy bits for sale, wandered down the street to more shops, bought some things there – and found Declan again. He was evidently bored enough that he agreed to join us shopping – I think he just wanted to see what American Tourists considered worth buying. I got the sweater (a nice dark green) and then we had some ice cream at the Spar. We ran into Ken and Maria, hugged everyone goodbye (their ferry was leaving soon) and rode our bikes back along the coastal route. This route was much more level and easier to deal with, and was much more pleasant, despite biking against the prevailing and increasing wind.

We saw the seal colony basking in the surf, and they were so still we at first thought they were statues put there to fool the tourists… but no, some of them moved a bit! We took copious photos, and moved on to the village near our B&B. They were closing up, but V managed to go in and buy some bits and bobs before they were done. We biked back to the B&B and recharged a bit.

After some relaxation and reconnection, we decided to head for Joe Watty's again – but not by bike. My inner butt hurt too much to try that right away. We were taking a taxi this time! I had told Maura about my previous night's experience with the blue van, and she said she knew just who it was, he had been a problem before. Tourists beware! Don't take Joe Gill's blue van – he has a bad attitude.

Today's taxi driver was John, and he had a jeep. He picked us and another couple up, and took us down to Joe Watty's for dinner. The mackerel salad was back, woohoo! V had her staple of seafood chowder, we had pints, and noticed that most of the folks around on a Sunday night were locals, as opposed to the tourists from the weekend. That made sense, of course – and even at that, most of the tourists had been from other parts of Ireland. But everyone was speaking Irish, and that made it more interesting to me. I tried to catch a word here and there, and barely succeeded.

Some other interesting quotes of the day included:
"It's a romantic candlelight dinner now, maybe I can get my thighs rubbed."
"I like the soft underbelly"
"Mine curl like monkeys around rocks"

We chatted a bit with Grace, PJ's wife, and when she mentioned that her sister makes jewelry, I dragged out my stuff again. She ended up buying a pair of earrings, and offered us a ride home later in the evening. I really do appreciate the way Irish folk do things – and wish it wasn't such an unusual occurrence in the rest of the world that I have to note it as different.

GreenDragon

Monday, May 23rd: "Celtic Cross Addiction Satisfied – for now"
Up early and ready for our non-Joe Gill taxi ride to the docks! Joe was kind enough to make the arrangements, and get up early to make sure we were well-fed. He asked if we wanted something different for breakfast, since the ferry ride was likely to be very rocky, but we both assured him that we had iron stomachs, and would be fine (and we were). We settled up with him (he had fronted the money for the bike rentals the day before) and we made it in good time to the ferry. The taxi driver (John) talked to us about Obama's visit, the Queen, and even Pope John Paul II (the best pope ever, in his opinion).

While the wind was fierce, there was no rain to make it miserable, so it was energizing rather than depressing. The boat crossed the waves sideways, so the ferry went side to side rather than up and down like the trip over. It made it hard to stand, but still fun. We did find the music on the ferry interesting – it was a local radio show, and played Kung Fu Fighting and Freedom.

We drove towards Galway, and while TomTom wanted us to go around the city, we decided to try to find the Spanish Arch and drive around inside the city a bit – a foolish idea at 9:30am on a Monday morning, perhaps. It was very crowded, very traffic-heavy, with busses and people everywhere. We didn't find the arch (even if we had, there was no place to park) and decided we had had enough with the hustle and bustle. After we saw the unusual site of a redhead man with dredlocks, we made our way out of the city and on to Clonmacnoise.

Our final stop that night was Ballyvaughan, but there was enough time for a detour on the way to this large monastic site. This was where we were when the heavy winds hit, and at one point I actually had to hold down my big, heavy purse as the wind was actually lifting it up.

Clonmacnoise has two round towers (one evidently older than the other), many beautiful crosses, and is situated on the river Shannon. It was lovely, and fed my Celtic Cross addiction for a while. We made our way back through gentle rolling green hills with farms and villages, crossed a river with the humorous name of River Suck, and made it to Kinvarra – at which point TomTom took us over a mountain again. While we were used to his shenanigans by now, it was always an adventure to discover if he had chosen a road that still went through where he thought it did.

We found Ballyvaughan easily, and our B&B was right where I thought it was, just past Monk's Pub, literally right next door. It was a lovely big place, with bright, colorful gardens, parking, and a large room. The bathroom was nice, the view over Galway Bay was delightful, even in the gloom. We checked in (had a little trouble getting onto WiFi), and then went off to Monk's for a late lunch.

We each had a half pint with lunch, me sticking with cider and V trying Smithwicks ("Smiddicks") for the first time. I had a salad that was made up of slices of black pudding, crispy bacon, slices of green apple, and a balsamic vinaigrette – it was a bit dry, but still a tasty combination. V had the goat's cheese salad once again.

We walked into town, explored the neighborhood, went into Spar for some snack refills. We went into a gift store, and discovered the closest ATM was back in Kinvarra. The weather started deteriorating, so we walked quickly back to the B&B, got the internet working, and asked the hostess (very nice, but a bit fluttery) about a local launderette. There was one in town, we could go by in the morning before we headed out.

Tonight we headed back to Kinvarra for cash, stopping at several brown signs on the way – Traugh Beach, a Napoleonic lookout tower, and other various beaches and scenic views. In Kinvarra, I finally found my toothpaste (I prefer a brand you can't get in the US). The town of Kinvarra was a little quiet, oddly so, but it had a largish Londis that we shopped around in a bit.

On the way back, we saw our first Irish rainbow – a double one, and one that met the earth on both sides. Welcome to the Emerald Isle!

We stopped for dinner at the Hyland Burren Hotel and Pub. It was very quiet, and we thought at first it was closed, but it was open. Again, not tourist season here yet, I suppose. I had the smoked salmon and prawn rose marie salad, while V stuck with her seafood chowder.

V has several cats, and all have Egyptian names. We discussed possible names for future cats, and she opined that she couldn't have a cat named Ra, because Ra was the Sun God, and all the other cats would think he was better than them.

We had an early night tonight, praying to the weather Gods to be kind to us tomorrow.

GreenDragon

Tuesday, May 24th: "Nice bright-shirt – pity your wife isn't wearing one (thu-thump-thump!)"
The beds at this B&B were a bit firmer than I'm used to, but we had gone to bed early so I got plenty of sleep. Breakfast was with a German couple and a German/French couple who kept switching back and forth between the two languages.

The weather Gods were evidently listening, as this was one of the very few no rain days we had in Ireland. It was sunny and glorious! There were some clouds here and there, but we stayed dry, though wind-swept. I swear, I do NOT remember it being this windy on other trips, but it was ever-present for our entire vacation.

We went down to the launderette to drop off our laundry – but it was closed. The website I had checked the night before said it was open at 9, but no sign of the owner. We walked across the street to enquire of the shop there, and they said he usually stayed closed unless someone called him – but my phone wasn't getting through to the cell number listed on the door. They had his home number, but that went straight to an answering machine. We went back to the B&B, and the hostess managed to get hold of him – but he was in Galway, taking an exam. However, here Irish hospitality kicked in – he said he'd pick up the clothing from the B&B on the way back, do the laundry, and drop it back before we were home for the day, and he did. Lovely solution!

We headed off along the coast road, taking several stops for photographs on the way to Fanore and beyond. We saw signs forbidding the building of cairns, and figured the locals didn't want the competition. We then went on to Lisdoonvarna, and did some shopping in the smokehouse. I really wanted to get some smoked fish and cheeses, but none came in sampler packs or small enough packages that I could reasonably eat most of it before heading back to the US. That made me sad – we had gotten some on my last trip when we were able to gobble it down at the self-catering lodge for breakfast. I did pick up a bottle of Poitin for Jason, and a couple other gifts.

Onwards to the Cliffs of Moher, in competition to be one of the new seven natural wonders of the world! Not that the cliffs are new, by any stretch of the imagination, but they are definitely full of wonder, and the weather Gods were gracing us with sun today, I would not waste the gift.

There were, of course, droves of tourists there, especially as it was such a nice day, despite the still-strong winds. Today was evidently a French day, I heard it everywhere in various degrees of accent and style. As we left, a fresh wave of Germans started coming in, but we shared the Cliffs experience mostly with the French.

The last time I was here, there was a big sign saying 'Do not go beyond this point'. There was still a sign, but it was covered in stickers from various places, almost to the point of illegibility. The way past that point was also MUCH better blocked by stone barriers – last time it was relatively easy to get past them, and many did. This time I saw no one venturing on private property past the sign.

Also, last time the O'Brien Tower had been closed for renovations – this time it was open, and free of ugly scaffolding. We explored the varying views of the cliffs, 700 feet above sea level, and the wheeling seabirds cavorting among the strong waves and sea stacks below. It is an awesome place, in the best sense of the word 'awe'.

On our way back down through the crowds, we stopped at a couple of the little gift shops, especially the one with music. I tried to find some storytelling or Noel McLoughlin CDs, but failed. Yes, they are available online, but are expensive, so was hoping to find it less so in a local shop. Also, storytelling CDs were hard to find.

We headed out for the Burren to explore and find interesting things. We searched for the Poulnabrone Dolmen, and for once, the brown signs let us down – the only ones we saw was for the walking trail The Burren Way. This was likely because TomTom took us around on little roads, and the signs are only on the main roads.

We finally found Poulnabrone Dolmen, and shared it with only about 20 tourists, the largest dolmen I've yet seen. The Burren itself is a bizarre place, with a karstic, cracked rock landscape offering intriguing folds of flora and fauna within its glacier grasp.

We explored a bit more for Caherconnell Fort, and then ended up almost back to Ballyvaughan on small backroads through the Burren. We headed back, as we were looking for the Burren Perfumery, scents and oils made from the local flowers and herbs. We found Parkanbinnia Wedge Tomb completely by accident on the way, atop a hillside and through a rocky pasture. The perfumery itself was on a very long, winding road through a valley, and did have some lovely scents. However, the few things I was interested in were all only available in the larger sizes, which didn't work for the three ounce rule, nor did I want to trust it to checked luggage at those prices.

We went to the café for some food, and I had the goat's cheese salad with a locally made chutney. We then left, and passed through Corrafin – a self-advertised 'Angler's Paradise'. "What, do the fish blow the anglers and then jump into the boat?" We passed a man walking with his wife down the narrow road, he was wearing a neon safety shirt, pity she wasn't wearing one. (thu-thump-thump!) I hope no one gets offended at that – we were a bit silly and loopy at this point!

Along the course of our drive, we came across another infamous brown sign. This one said Dysart O'Dea Castle – and a High Cross. The German woman in the castle was quite helpful, but when we noted that half the clerks we had spoken to in the area were all German, she professed she didn't know why. We figured the Germans are slowly infiltrating the island, and will quietly take over the country before anyone notices.

We explored the castle a bit, then into a field where the high cross was at, passing a group of (gasp!) London tourists on the way.

We headed south to Quin on a quest to find Quin Abbey. We did pass Clare Abbey in the distance, but this was not our target for the day. Quin, when we found it, was actually closed as it was 5pm by now. However, I was able to explore the graveyard and architecture quite a bit on my own. We saw a sign for Knappogue Castle, but it was hidden by trees and closed to the public at that moment. We turned around on a small road with a girl exercising her horse, and headed back to Ennis.

We wandered around downtown a bit, found a parking spot, and decided on Brogan's Pub for some dinner. Once again the seafood chowder became a meal, though I had fried prawns and rose marie sauce – and we each had ½ pints to wash it down. It was reasonably crowded, and the waitresses were a bit rushed, but the food was decent.

It had turned out to be a fantastic day today, with winds still high and around 20-25 mph, but the blue sky wasn't shy and the clouds were fluffy and white. We ended up back in Ballyvaughan for a couple of pints at Monks, chatted with Robert at the bar, and relaxed.

GreenDragon

Wednesday, May 25th: "National Irish Fish-n-Chips Day"

We were up early this morning, as it was another long travel day down to Dingle. We repacked, breakfasted, and checked out to a rainy day. The route was only 3.5 hours, but we knew well that side trips and brown signs could easily double that figure.

Our first diversion was to Cormcoroe Abbey, a nearby place I had noticed the day before. I was able to get some nice architectural photos there, and then skedaddled back on the road to Dingle. We did get shots of the several different types of stone fences the Irish built, creative folk that they are.

We came across another brown sign, for Tully Holy Well and Shrine – down a narrow farm road we went. The hill took me past some very friendly, sleek brown horses, to a very odd little shrine on the hill, and then back to the main road. By the time I saw the Shannon Estuary, I realized that TomTom had ignored our request for 'no ferries' in his instructions, and going around at this point would add at least an hour and a half to the trip – so we bit the bullet and took the ferry.

It was only about E18, and a nice, easy trip in the car. The rain kept splattering, but we only had to wait about 15 minutes for the ferry to start boarding, and the trip was short. Once on the other side, we went exploring for a scenic view or two. At one point, driving along the road, I heard a huge THUMP on the windshield, and saw the underside of a big black bird – he hit us! Hit and run! Track down that bird!

We tried to find Glin Castle, but all we saw were a couple castle gates that looked like someone made them from papier mache. We took the 'scenic route' back, and decided that 'scenic route' was Irish for 'crappy road with very little to see' on it.

On the way to find Ardfert Cathedral, we found Lislaughlin Abbey, and then went on to find Carrigafoyle Castle by accident. This was a well placed ruin on a lakeside, and looked like a mouth permanently open to swallow all of time within. Ardfert was worth exploring – lots of lovely architectural spaces, archways, halls, galleries of stone stretching around to ancient gravesites.

By the time we got to Camp, on the north side of the Dingle peninsula, we realized that it would be much too misty to see anything from Connor Pass – nor was I interested in braving that north road in the rain, so we took the longer, windier path across the peninsula before we got to the pass. It did switch back and forth a lot along that southern coast, but it was relatively wide throughout, and I remember going up that pass with Kim constantly in 1st gear the whole way up.

We got into Dingle and found our B&B along the road without any problems, The Blooming Wildflower B&B (http://www.wildflower-cottage.com/). Evidently she runs an herbal shop out of the front of the house – our entrance was in the back. There is no street parking or off-street parking – she told us we could park in the lot across the street, which was several houses in a group. The room was the Captain's room, and not huge, but the bathroom was almost larger than the room itself. Marianne, our hostess, was a tiny, soft-spoken woman from Seattle, but she reminded V of Tangina, the little old psychic woman from Poltergeist, with her little voice.

We settled in and found at least one extra plug, a fantastic view over the water, and it was a nicely decorated room, with a blue nautical theme. The rest of the house was cut off from our hallway by a brochure stand on wheels – evidently she would come fetch us for breakfast the next morning. This all felt a bit odd, but this house isn't set up as a B&B as well as some of the others, which were probably more purpose-built.

We walked into town, and passed by the Aquarium, to find a fish-n-chips place. Today was Irish National Fish-n-Chips Day, and we meant to honor that. We stopped at Harrington's, had some cod, and somehow came to the conclusion that V was the 'black hole of sin' for some reason.

We did some serious shopping then, finding odd shops like The Craic House, The Dolphin Store (which was full of hippie stuff, incense, beaded curtains, and a huge, wall-sized 3D graphic of a dolphin on one wall). It also had the only real seed-bead work I'd yet seen, though there was no clerk to help us or ask questions of. We went into another shop called Cuchulainn, which had some higher-end jewelry, and a couple other shops with lacework, knitwork and woolens, music, etc.

We settled into the very American-tourist-oriented Dingle Pub for some pints and to escape the rain. They had free WiFi, but only if you sat at one table in the pub, evidently. I had a meal of smoked salmon on brown bread, and while the bread was tasty, it was so dense it could easily give someone a head wound if properly wielded. We watched some silly commercials on the television in the pub, and wandered again once the rain stopped (for the moment).

We got the recommendation of the Courthouse pub by a local, but couldn't easily find it wandering around, so we went into Murphy's, which promised trad music. It was pretty well packed, so we moved on to John Benny Moriarty's, which had a free corner for us to curl up in. Again, this pub had trad music, and again, it had many American tourists, but seemed less commercial than The Dingle Pub. Also, there was free WiFi throughout so V could hide in her corner.

V actually engaged with another pub patron – on her very own, too! She commented on him texting on his iPhone, a common addiction. He was a tourist from Denver, named Phil, and she had a whole conversation with him before he had to leave. I was so proud!

A couple sat next to us on the other side, and ordered a couple of hot whiskeys. It looked very warming, but I'm not a fan of whiskey, so I passed and stuck with my ciders. The pub started filling up as the music session got closer, again, true session players. They were very good, but after 3-4 tunes, V wanted to get going, so we braved the wind and the rain and got back home – cold, wet, and very loopy.

GreenDragon

Thursday, May 26th: "Since when have I EVER refused alcohol??"

We were 'fetched' for our breakfast at the appointed time, and followed Marianne up through the front room, upstairs, past the kitchen and into the dining area. It had a lovely view of the bay, but was only separated from the kitchen by a half wall, so it was rather odd, as Marianne didn't have much to do once we were served, so she sort of watched us. The food itself was delicious – yogurt with granola, fresh berries, full Irish breakfast. She had on some music in the background, it sounded like James Galway.

After breakfast we headed off along the road to Connor Pass, as the sky was a bit lighter now (though it still had storm clouds in many places). This was a scenic view we missed our last trip, as after the long and laborious drive up from the north side, there was so much mist and rain that we could see exactly nothing from the vantage point on the top.

This time proved to be just as windy, but clearer. We waited a bit at the top for the sun to slip into the occasional openings in the cloudy cover, but when it did, it showed sparkling green views of a lovely landscape, well worth the wait.

We headed down the north side to find Brandon Point, and found Brandon Beach instead. We continued on – this part of the peninsula didn't look like it had very much tourist traffic, and we got a few odd looks as we drove through. Brandon Point was also lovely, but with the cloud cover we couldn't see much in the mists. There was one other carful of tourists, and we played leapfrog along the scenic spots, each getting out to take photos, and pass the other, and then reverse the order.

I think the north road of Connor Pass is wider than it was five years ago. Yes, there are bits that are very narrow, but I remember a lot more of it being so. Perhaps it's just that there was no deep, thick fog this time, making time stand still and teeth stand on edge, expecting a big truck to come around a bend at any moment. However, it wasn't all too bad this time. The south road, to Dingle, is definitely wide and easy to travel.

We went on along the south Dingle road towards the Celtic Prehistoric Museum. This was a great stop – a man from the US settled here and set it up, and has been here 13 years. He's made the house into a great little museum – each room dedicated to a different part in prehistoric Ireland. There were many artifacts, including cave bear bones, mammoth tusks and skull, Celtic jewelry artifacts, goddess figures, tools and weapons from the Neolithic age. There was also a very odd structure that looked like a dressmaker's mannequin with a boar's head on it. I did not question it.

There was a lovely little gift shop as well, that sold some antique bits, like bottles and coins, as well as locally made handcrafts. This is where I found a knit cap to purchase, and a hair toggle made of leather. I highly recommend this stop!

We went along the road, past Dunbeg Fort (it was covered in busses) and the beehive huts. We stopped a few times for somewhat misty sea views, but ended up at Slea Head in the almost sun. The sun was very reluctant to show its face today, though the rain was also rather reluctant to come. It did drop here and there, but very small bits.

Slea Head is the scenic high point of Dingle, in my opinion. It has a lovely beach, dramatic black diagonal rocks jutting out of the surf, and a gently sloping peninsula pushed into the sea, surrounded by smaller green islands. On a sunny day it is a bit of paradise. Even on the overcast day it was lovely – less so with the idiot tourists that were out climbing the jagged rocks in the high winds, but still lovely.

We passed on Blasket Island, given the weather, but we found a lovely beach to enjoy, Wine Strand. Of course, there were about a dozen or so really old, run-down looking holiday campers parked along the dunes, evidently for rental. There was a sign that asked to keep this 'area of beauty' free of junk and trash – right next to one of the worst looking campers. Very nice.

We found the Gallerus Oratory farther along that road, and once the coachload of tourists left, we had it to ourselves for a good 20 minutes. A group of school kids were coming towards it just as we were leaving, so we once again felt blessed by the Tourist Gods.

On to Killarney for some sightseeing and an early dinner. We found a parking spot and went searching for dinner. First, we needed more cash – but where were the ATMs? The clerk at the petrol station said they 'lined the streets' in Killarney – liar! There was one lonely ATM with a line of 7 people waiting to use it, but at least there was one. We went in to several different places, searching for food – all of them weren't currently serving, as it was that magic hour when breakfast wears off and the pubs are closed for food. We went into the Laurels, O'Connors, O'Somethingelse, and then found a real restaurant – Trevand's. I had some yummy fishcakes and V had a chicken tikka wrap. It wasn't the best food in the world, but it was tasty enough, and it was fuel. I couldn't finish my bottle of cider, so I offered it to V – "Since when have I EVER refused alcohol?"

After our late lunch, we did some more shopping, posited on the lack of ATMs, short shopping hours, and the general acceptance of a lower level of convenience than we demand in the US. V found a collapsible walking cane for her husband, and was happy as a clam.

We tried to drive up the Gap of Dunloe afterwards, but were stopped by a jaunting car driver, who said drivers were no longer allowed up the road unless you were a resident, due to an accident with one of the ponies. We decided to head towards Ross Castle instead, and enjoyed its lakeside views. Too much wind and rain to climb up Torc – so back to the B&B we went. We stopped at Inch Strand on the way back, as the shifting sunlight through stripes of storm clouds made a wonderful dance on the long, shimmering strand of sand.

We headed back out for some pints once in Dingle again. We found the Courthouse Pub this time, and they had pints, WiFi, and trad music. I chatted with a couple Scottish tourists for a bit, and we noticed that our two bartenders looked a bit like Snooki and Horation Hornblower – a very odd combination! The music was very good, many of the tunes were ones the Chieftains do, I think there were four musicians playing.

Back at the B&B, the internet kept cutting out on my iPhone. I would have to go into the hallway and hold my phone up in the air to capture signal again, and that might last 5 minutes, or a half hour before cutting out again. V's iPad had no problem with it, though – so my phone was just less powerful, but I knew that.

GreenDragon

Friday, May 27th: "You've got to stop playing with that, I just can't handle it!"
We got all packed and ready to check out, after getting led up to breakfast again. The tick-tocking of the clock was very loud in the quiet room, but our hostess was a bit more chatty this morning, and we checked out and headed for our final destination, Kenmare. And as a note, even though she accepts credit card for the reservation itself, she only takes cash on checkout – I'm glad I decided to get more cash at the last known ATM.

It was about an hour drive to try the Gap of Dunloe again. The weather was nicer so we decided to walk up the Gap, since cars were evidently not allowed – which was bull, because we saw at least a dozen cars of tourists drive through there while we walked it. I think the jaunting car driver last night simply wanted a fare from us instead of letting us drive it. However, it was a lovely walk, about 2.5 miles up to the bridge across the gap. There was a slight drizzle now and then, but it was green, lush, and the water made for wonderful photographs. There was one guy that looked like he had strapped three couch cushions to his back, and crossed the river. Evidently camping gear – but he looked very ungainly.

On the way up, we were passed by several tourists on bikes, jaunting carts with ponies, on ponies themselves, or in cars. There were also other walkers… this is a spot of great natural beauty, and I'm glad others are appreciating it.

On the way back, I actually jogged a couple downhill spots – and I am NOT a jogger by any stretch of the imagination. But it felt good to get some speed up, with the help of Mother Gravity. The last time we were here we took the jaunting car, and Kim rode one of the ponies – I asked another cart driver about Tim, our previous driver, but he had the day off.

On to Muckross House, a stately Victorian home. The car park was packed, and the spots were VERY narrow, even for my little car. We walked through the café and into the gardens, and explored the rocky hill garden with stone steps up, around, and through. We ended up behind Muckross House itself, and that is a prettier view than the front of the house. The house tour is E7, and we enjoyed the tour a lot. Queen Victoria had stayed there, and the rooms are kept as they were at the time of the visit.

After the tour, we climbed up Torc Waterfall, enjoyed the views, but we felt we had been spoiled for waterfalls after Glenariffe Forest and Eos Waterfall in Ardara.

After Torc, we headed out of Killarney and on towards Kenmare, not too far away. We found ourselves in Moll's Gap, I recognized it from my 2002 trip – I hadn't realized it was on the route. In Kenmare, we found O'Donnabhain's (http://www.odonnabhain-kenmare.com/) Guest House and GastroPub with little trouble – it's halfway down one of the two main streets. We weren't sure where to park, so we parked around the corner and went to check in. Like most Irish towns, the houses were townhouses, all attached to each other, but this place was HUGE. It looks normal from the outside, but it keeps going and going and going back – and it's three stories tall, as well. The rooms are all upstairs, the kitchen and pub is downstairs. Jerry, the owner, was great, showed us our room, the lounge, the pub. The room was huge, by any standards, and the bathroom large, as well. Very clean, very modern, very precise. More of an American Hotel standard décor than an Irish B&B standard.

We parked our car in the back parking lot (thanks to Jerry for directions), and went into the pub for food and pints. Our waiter, Michael, was Australian, and reminded us very much of Moe on the Simpsons – the way he looked, walked, etc. I had a seafood open sandwich with prawns (of course), while V had the seafood chowder – and we discovered the best brown bread in Ireland. It had honey in it, was sweet, soft, and absolutely delectable. Jerry said he would post the recipe on his website in a month or so, as he kept getting comments. Oh, and my meal included a large prawn, complete with head and antennae. I kept playing with it, and V said "You've got to stop playing with that, I just can't handle it!"

Once more we braved the soft weather to go shopping. We were going to meet a friend at the Square Pint, but when we looked around it was hopelessly closed. I noticed some Irish towns are geometrically challenged – their town square here was triangular, and it's not the first time I've noticed that. Back to the pub after a flurry of shopping goodness, for pints and sticky toffee pudding! I figured it is our last stop on the trip, I'd been good but wanted some sweetness to counter the bitterness of an ending vacation.

I like Kenmare, as a town, better than Dingle. I still like Ardara more, but Ardara, if I were to live there, would likely be quite cold in the winters. Kenmare is likely to be warmer – and it's cosier than Dingle, more intimate, more friendly. We were planning our trip for the next day around the Ring of Beara, and Jerry came over with some advice about sticking to the coastal road for the more scenic bits.

We went back to the room, and I started my Grand Repacking Scheme. I knew I had bought lots of stuff, and wanted to check my extra bag with my clothes on the way back, bring the gifts as a carry-on. However, I realized that the extra bag was soft sided, and I had bought a bottle of poitin for J. That means that I would have to instead check my rollerboard (the one with wheels!) and carry my soft-sided bag, as the poitin was definitely more than 3 ounces. Sigh – it is what it is. V had found a nice duffel bag, with Ireland embroidered on it, for her second bag, but had to figure out how much space she still had left to fill.

GreenDragon

Saturday, May 28th: "A Stone Circle a Day Keeps the Mists Away?"
We got up early this morning, and went down to sit on the stairs in order to get WiFi. Jerry had warned us that it works fine on the first floor, iffy on the second floor, and forget it on the third floor. We had a wonderful breakfast served by Vanessa, Jerry's wife. Then we were off towards the Ring of Beara, another trip I had been greatly anticipating.

We started on the north road, and stuck with Jerry's advice on taking the scenic coastal route. Unfortunately, this was one of the high rain days, and the mists obscured much of what I'm sure was spectacular coastline and lovely beaches. We stopped to explore at one brown sign for Uragh Stone Circle, which took us inland along a long, windy, narrow, steep, questionable road, which then opened up into a rocky questionable road, and a further walk (but not too far) to the stone circle. There was a small donation box for E1 each, which we of course contributed to.

The circle was perfectly placed on a small hill in a spectacular valley, surrounded by gentle high hills, a waterfall in the distance, and green and white dotting the landscape everywhere. It was very prominent and impressive, yet the circle itself was small, almost intimate – much less intimidating than others I'd seen. I liked it a lot.

We saw another sign back at the parking area – handwritten – promising a famine cottage, a 'boulder circle', and a hut. We walked up the mountain, following the occasional arrow signs (again, hand written). We went all the way up the mountain, past a farmhouse, and decided we had missed it somehow. On the way back, I saw a blown-over handwritten sign pointing who knows where? There was a path, so we followed that as well. It got very squishy, so I chickened out, but V continued on – she found nothing she could recognize, so came back. The mysterious 'boulder circle' remains at large to this day – keep your eyes out for it!

We drove along some more, and found another brown sign – we obviously had not yet learned. This was Castlecreevy Stone Circle, I think. We parked, and started walking through the woods. We saw a deer, who kept flirting with us, ran away a couple feet, then came back, ran some more, etc. We walked and walked, exploring all. The forest was very different from the one in Glenariffe – very mossy, very dark, almost spooky. We saw three other people walking with a dog, and they said they were going to the stones, so we followed them. It's a good thing we did – we would never have found it on our own! Evidently we parked one spot too soon, and didn't take the road/path up to the stones, we went the long way around.

There were actually two stone circles right next to each other, both rather small, but both with large principle stones. They were on top of a tall hill, with misty views out into the valleys below, and you could see the inlet, even through the mist and haze.

We went back down through the shorter way, but I slipped part of the way down. I was fine, even though my leg bent under me as I fell. I was more muddy than hurt – but a big, conveniently placed rock helped me scrape the worst of the mud and wet off my butt. We saw the deer's tracks in the mud as we took the 'real' path back to the road, and then a short distance down the road to our car.

Since TomTom has no differentiation between "safe route" and "quickest route" we have interesting side trips. It might be nice to have "scenic route" as an option, but that often means, as we've discovered before, simply an "alternate" to the real road. "Insane driver in a tractor going 60mph down the narrow, windy road coming towards you around the next bend" might be a more useful option.

We found another brown sign, for another stone circle. The circle was in a fenced field next to a farmhouse (after a long, narrow, windy road, of course). There was another car in the little parking area that started back down towards us, when it could easily SEE us coming down this narrow road, with no place to pass. After a moment, the other driver, I suppose, decided that the cars should not actually exchange paint molecules, so he slowly started backing up to the parking area again.

The circle had a couple lambs lying next to it, who quickly vacated as I went through the gate and walked towards it. They ran around the corner of the farmhouse – and evidently got their mommies and daddies, because all of a sudden, a herd of about 50 sheep started coming towards me, baaing and baaing, running towards me. It was like something out of a bad Irish horror movie! I had plenty of time to get back out, and the sheep were far enough away that I didn't need to run to keep ahead of them – but that circle definitely has an effective guard system!

We went into Ardgroom, but by that time the rain and mists had increased to the point it was difficult to see anything. However, we had no problem seeing the almost eye-blindingly brightly painted buildings in town! They must have had a sale on BRIGHT paint one day. I'd seen many individual houses with bright colors – I'm sure it brightens up the mists and gloom on occasion. But often it's one house, or trim on one or two houses – not the entire village.

We did see another brown sign for an Ogham Stone (Ogham is the ancient writing system of the Celts), but it was through a private farm. V stayed in the car while I ventured up. When I got there, I found this 18' stone jutting up into the sky from a tall hill – and realized my memory card was full! No problem, I went back and deleted the most recent few photos, took new ones up there, and then retook the last ones after getting a new card at the car.

This area is lovely, with rocky points sticking up into the mists in the now much calmer ocean. The houses and villages look as though they needed an influx of prosperity, though, and much was weathered and beaten. Part of that, I'm sure, is that Beara isn't the tourist mecca that is Kerry or Dingle, and therefore doesn't have as much funding (or interest) in keeping things tourist-friendly. This is both a good and bad thing. Good in that it keeps the area authentic, 'normal', and unspoiled; bad in that it makes it more difficult for the locals to subsist.

We drove around the tip of the Ring of Beara, found Kilcatherine Church and a Mass Rock, and traveled along more windy roads through rocky hills, up mountains and down through valleys. We found Castletownbere, and saw another brown sign for a small circle that was right off the road. Then we found a wedge tomb – this was like a clearinghouse for Neolithic structures! We found one tomb, went on to the second promised one (brown sign again), and ended up on a steep hill leading up to a farmhouse again. With some manipulation of the manual transmission, I managed to turn around without hitting anything, and found the main N road (N71) with relief.

We passed by Molly Gallivan's and Druid's View (still too misty to view much), and decided that we had had enough with brown signs for the day. They had led us on enough foolish epic quests and down enough twisty, questionable roads for the nonce. We made our way back to Kenmare (ignoring the brown signs that now popped up like teasing little schoolchildren, nyah-nyah!). Having seen at least six stone circles today was wonderful, each one was different and unique, and I asked favors at each one.

Ah, pints! Yes, the sweet taste of cider, the Guinness stew, and the fish-n-chips of a well-run pub. V was feeling antisocial again, so she went upstairs to repack and retool, while I had a pint at the bar, and waited for another online friend, Seamus, to show up. He was a motorcyclist, and was camping nearby, so he said he'd meet up with me for a chat this evening. While I'm waiting, I am writing in my handy-dandy notebook, tallying up the experiences of the day. Once again, the 'character' in the pub comes over and asks if I'm writing a love letter. This is not the first time I've been asked that – to people actually write love letters any longer? I told him no, I was writing a book, and it was all about him. He said I'd need a bigger notebook!

Seamus came in and we talked about all sorts of things – that Irish actually drink Irish coffee (I thought it was an American invention of Irish culture, like corned beef on St. Patrick's Day), history and genealogy, economics and education. He hadn't eaten yet, and the pub was past serving food (only just) so we went out to the take-away and had some chips and curry. There were several very drunk guys staggering about, and one in the chip shop was the 'friendly drunk' who loved everyone. Another was the 'dropsy drunk', and he dropsied his soda on the floor twice.

GreenDragon

Sunday, May 29th: "Enough with the mists already!"
Today was the Ring of Kerry. I had thought about the boat out to Skellig Michael, but the weather was still too rough for this, and we would have had to arrange it the day before, anyhow. It was very misty and still quite windy today.

We had breakfast again, served by Jerry's wife, and we realized that the floors in that breakfast room was an entire orchestra of squeaks! I would hate to have the room just above it – I'm sure they were loud enough to break through any fog of sleep and ear plugs I had surrounded myself in.

V was able to check out with no problem that morning, since we would be up and out before sunrise the next morning to get to the airport on time. She mentioned that Vanessa, Jerry's wife, was incredibly helpful and friendly, and for V, that is quite a compliment.

We started out on the southern road of the Ring of Kerry towards Sneem. Now, I'd driven the ROK twice myself already, but V had of course never seen it. The last time I went, we went counter-clockwise, and got stuck in the middle of a huge charity bike race in June. There were literally hundreds of bicyclers using the road in the same direction we were, and they take over the entire road. Trying to pass them is a nightmare around bends and twisty roads, and we were all nervous wrecks by the time we decided to take a detour to Valentia Island. This time, there were no such problems, though the ever-present mist and drizzles still continued to haunt us.

We explored around Ballinskelligs Bay, thanks to Jerry's recommendation the night before, and the beach there was wonderful, with a ruin on an island out into the ocean. We continued on to Staigue Fort, St. Finan's Bay, and Killonacaha. TomTom took us over another mountain, and the way was steep and a bit scary, but at the top you could see all of Valentia Island spread out in front of us, even through the mists and the wind.

We went down to the Visitor Centre to learn about Skellig Michael, and while I really wanted to go, I realized it would have been impossible to see much, and probably quite dangerous climbing those stairs in the wind without any railing or support.

The last time I had been there, we had climbed part of the hill at the end of the island, but came back before getting to the top. This time we walked the whole thing, and what a wonderful choice! There was a surprise view on the other side, with crashing waves against rocks and lovely cliffs. There was a rather spooky ruined house at the top – I have no idea if there was any historical significance, but it looked like a rather modern concrete structure. It had a sublime view, though, when the mists cleared.

Back on the main road of the ROK, we found two other ring forts along the coast, one of which we saw from the road, and took a long, runaround way to get to it. We were greeted by the owner (an orange tabby cat) who allowed us access after paying a toll of several pets. This was a cool fort, as it still had some of the internal structures in place, so you could see better how people lived inside the fort.

Farther along the road, we saw more brown signs – 2 forts and a castle. The castle that was surrounded by barbed wire, but several teenage boys were inside and climbing around. As we left, we saw a rather angry-looking older woman driving a tractor up the road, and figured she was going to go thrash the boys that were on her land and her castle.

The two forts were right near each other, on neighboring hills, and we parked in one place for both. These were larger, higher forts than the last one, again with some internal structures to help us picture life of that time. Yesterday was the Stone Circle day, today was evidently the Stone Fort day.

We went back down to the main road, and found Rossbeigh Beach, which was pretty, but we had just about had enough of the gloom and mist, and were rather tired of it all. We got back to Killorglin, and then back home to Kenmare. We decided to go out to the take-away for chips and curry, and V had a chicken burger. They had decent food, and Jer (I assume that's the owner's name, as it said Jer's Take-away) is evidently the hardest working man in Kenmare. He was doing great, had several customers going at once, and I think owned the kabob place across the street, too. He had gone over there for more curry sauce the night before.

One of the last things we saw on the ROK was a horse, peeing on the ground, and I joyfully pointed it out to V and said 'So that will be your last memory of a horse in Ireland!' Luckily for her, we saw a pony a short time later, bending down and then rolling in the grass to itch its back, so she had a better final memory.

We went back to the pub in Kenmare, and got some Irish coffee crème brulee – yum! And then we had to get to sleep early, as we were up early, 3:45, to get to the airport on time.

GreenDragon

Monday, May 30th: "No Petrol Stations to be found"
Up early and dark – we'd not yet seen a sunrise here, since the sun rose before 5:30am, but today is the day for that.

We packed, headed out, and got on the main road – and then did a very foolish thing, and listened to TomTom. I could have been smart and stayed on the N road the map said headed to Shannon, but I was still sleepy, and listened to the SatNav – and it took us across country roads to the N20. Possibly a shorter route (by 2 minutes?) but one that had no towns, villages, or cities on the way.

This wouldn't have been a problem, either, if it weren't for rental car policy that gave a full tank of gas when you rented a car, and asked that you return it with an empty tank. Of course, no one wants to waste money on gas if they are going to lose it, so I figured I had enough to get me to the airport.

I was wrong.

The TomTom said it was 100 miles to the airport. The car said there was 125 left in gas, fine, no problem, just about perfect – but that was km, NOT miles… so we had nowhere near enough to get us to the airport. And it was 5am on a Monday, and nothing is open in Ireland at 5am. Also, all the gas pumps we had seen are operated by clerks, none take credit cards at the pump like those in the US, so they need to be manned in order to get gas. And villages don't have any gas stations, much less 24-hour manned ones.

We made it to a decent city, Charleyville, pretty much on fumes. The gauge had been saying empty for quite a while at this point, and we were very nervous about it. We found one gas station that looked like it might be open, but it wasn't – yet. It was now 6am, our flight left from Shannon (45 minutes away still) at 9am. The station opened at 7am. We could do it, but it would make us very nervous being so late to check into an international flight.

I walked down to the Aldi next door, and was able to knock on the window, and get the attention of one of the stock guys. He said there was another gas station down the road that was 24 hours, not too far down, about half a mile. I got back and V said the store clerk (she didn't have the keys, was just early for work) said the same thing. We went down the road, and found a very closed-looking gas station. The windows were covered in paper, and no amount of knocking summoned anyone. I asked a guy on his way to work, he said no, there was another farther down the road.

This was Mecca – a true 24-hour gas station, glory be halleluliah! Let the angels sing and the light shine down from the heavens! We quickly put in about E12 of gas and started off on our last dash to the airport. I sped the rest of the way on N and M roads. We got there around 7:00.

The weather today was beautiful, of course, on the day we left. We even saw another rainbow as we emerged from the tunnel that bypasses Limerick.

We dropped our car off at Dan Dooley – and I want to say, I've rented cars in Ireland four times and the UK three other times, and this was the smoothest, most helpful agency I've ever dealt with. They were quick, efficient, no hidden charges at checkout, and very friendly. I highly recommend them! www.dandooley.com. I told the clerk I was concerned about making my flight – he said no problem, he knew the pilot and that he would wait for us (yeah, right).

We took the shuttle into the airport, and got into line to check in – and now I realized why the clerk was so sanguine about our flight. It looked like the only flight leaving that morning, and we were all in line to check in for it. Customs came with little laptops on rolling desks to pre-screen us. There were 4-5 clerks, so the line moved somewhat quickly, but we were still in line for about a half hour. Everyone was on the same flight, though, so I wasn't too concerned.

I found the VAT windows to turn in my receipts without problem, and a small wait. They are more efficient at it than they were. If more shops took the new VAT card, it would be even easier – that meant no paperwork, just swipe the card at the shop and swipe it at the airport, and voila! All done.

We got to the gate just as boarding started, couldn't be more perfect. Since this was a day flight, I gave up thought of sleeping (it's hard enough on an overnight, dark flight), and watched movies. I watched This is Spinal Tap, Music & Lyrics, Inglorious Bastards and Season of the Witch. None was great, but all had some entertainment value and kept me occupied.

Getting into Newark, we had a four hour wait, but we had electronic entertainment and snacky bits, we were fine. Our gate was moved, and it was a strange little add-on gate. The flight was late boarding by about 45 minutes (was late getting in) but we had no other flights to catch, so I was unworried.

When we got back to PIT, we collected our luggage, I called my shuttle, found my car, and drove the 1.5 hours home. I was pretty exhausted, but happy that most of the trip went without major hitch. The most worrying part was the gasless drive back to the airport that morning, and we did what we could.

GreenDragon

Recap and reflections:

Ireland remains my magical retreat, the place where I feel free and alive. This is my fourth trip, and it will never be my last trip. Someday I hope to move there. The people remain friendly and incredibly helpful, like Pat at the Riverside B&B, PJ at Joe Watty's or Jerry at O'Donnabhain's. The food is delicious, and so full of seafood choices, it's like heaven. The scenery is sublime, and getting easier to access. The wild parts are still wild and wonderful. While I didn't visit Dublin this trip (the first time I didn't visit Dublin on an Ireland trip) I'm sure it's changed as well, as it had changed so much between my previous visits.

I did notice many roads were wider than I remember. Did the EU put that much money into infrastructure, or am I just getting used to Irish roads? It could be both. It took me longer to get used to driving on the right side of the road again when I returned than it took getting used to being on the left.

All in all, we had 3 days with no rain at all, 2 days of all rain, and most of the rest were a mix between the two. Most of the mix days were 10 minutes of rain followed by an hour of no rain and some sunshine. Not the worst weather I've had for vacation, but not the best, either. We evidently missed three weeks of glorious, sunny, dry weather just before we got there.

Our favorites were as follows:

Scenery: Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge, Glenariffe Forest and Waterfalls, the Dark Hedges, Cliffs of Moher, Sliabh Liag cliffs, the sand dunes near Ardara, Keen Bay on Achill Island, Dun Aengosa, Slea Head on Dingle, Connor Pass, Healy Pass, the forest near Ardgroom, sticking our feet in the water in Ardara.

Surreal: those sand dunes near Ardara, the forest near Ardgroom, the Dark Hedges.

Pubs: Nancy's in Ardara, Joe Watty's on Inis Mor, O'Donnabhain's in Kenmare

B&Bs: Riverside in Cushendall, Bay View in Ardara, Man of Aran (except being so far from Kilronan and Joe Watty's!) in Inis Mor, O'Donnabhain's in Kenmare. The view was exceptional in Oceanville, as well.

People: Pat McKeegan in Riverside B&B, Everyone at Nancy's Bar in Ardara (the McHughs that run it as well as Lauren and Angus), Debe, Dee and Jackie in Westport, Joe /Maura in Man of Aran, PJ/Grace at Joe Watty's, the Dublin 40 (Jeff, Maria, Declan, Ken, etc.), Seamus, and Jeff/ Vanessa/Michael at O'Donnabhain's.

Thank you for joining me vicariously on my journey – I love comments and suggestions for this report or the next trip!

Go raibh maith agat! (thank you)

irishface

and thank you for sharing with us! It sounds like a truly wonderful trip, and it was certainly a well writen report!
Do we get to see pictures?

GreenDragon

You do, but not until I finish posting them on my website. That should be this weekend. However, if you want, here are my pics on my facebook page. These are public links, so you don't have to be part of Facebook to see them. They are organized by area, and there are about 700 of them! (I took 7100 in total - these are the better ones). I'll only have about 40 on my website when it's up.

Comments and critiques always welcome!


Cushendall:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?s...2&l=4ac43aca5e
Ardara:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?s...2&l=ed9dd7a671
Westport:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?s...2&l=7f302d1315
Inis Mor:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?s...2&l=b8e70be951
Ballyvaughan:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?s...2&l=a92e011a11
Dingle:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?s...2&l=ac958d7a59
Kenmare:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?s...2&l=a11d41e65d

maureencol

Great trip report! You are obviously very artistic by your descriptions...and sense of humor!
I go home every year and I travel similar...take many sideroads and follow brown signs (although I refuse to use a GPS). I love Ardara! I make sure to be home for thier Jimmy Dougherty Music Festival each year. I stay in the old gaol that is now a hostel...Its the big gray one right in the triangle with "hostel" written in big letters! I usually go in late September/October or November. I am so happy there are very few tourists at that time of the year. I have been to the Cliffs of Moher when we were the only ones there. I'm looking forward to your photos!

emily71

You had me at Shaun the Sheep-love him.

Great trip report and I'll have to add Ireland to my bucket list.

irishface

Thanks for sharing your photos! They are gorgeous! I can't wait for more time to go back and look in detail.

I know it is not the camera but the photographer's eye. However, I am always interested in cameras, so am asking what camera you used.

GreenDragon

Full trip report with some pics:
http://www.greendragonartist.com/BI/...eports2011.htm

Public links to my photos on Facebook from Ireland May 2011 trip:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?s...2&l=c097d6cb7f
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?s...2&l=422cde32b4

Cushendall:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?s...2&l=4ac43aca5e
Ardara:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?s...2&l=ed9dd7a671
Westport:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?s...2&l=7f302d1315
Inis Mor:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?s...2&l=b8e70be951
Ballyvaughan:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?s...2&l=a92e011a11
Dingle:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?s...2&l=ac958d7a59
Kenmare:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?s...2&l=a11d41e65d