GreenDragon

OK, so I'm back from Ireland, and starting in on my trip report. It's still in rough form, but I thought I'd start, as I'm about halfway through so far. I'll be posting the polished form with pics on my website when I'm done, but here it is so far, one section at a time.

Ireland 2011 – Taking Ireland by Storm! (May 12th through May 30th, 2011)

Itinerary:

13th (Fri) – Fly into Belfast. Overnight in Cushendall (Riverside B&B)
14th (Sat) – Overnight in Cushendall.
15th (Sun) – Overnight in Cushendall.
16th (Mon) – Overnight in Ardara (Bayview Country House).
17th (Tues) – Overnight in Ardara.
18th (Wed) – Overnight in Ardara.
19th (Thur) – Overnight in Westport (Boulevard Guesthouse).
20th (Fri) – Overnight in Westport.
21st (Sat) – Overnight in Inis Mor (Man of Aran cottage).
22nd (Sun) – Overnight in Inis Mor.
23rd (Mon) – Overnight in Ballyvaughn (Oceanville B&B).
24th (Tue) – Overnight in Ballyvaughn.
25th (Wed) –Overnight in Dingle (Blooming Wildflower B&B).
26th (Thu) – Overnight in Dingle.
27th (Fri) – Overnight in Kenmare. (O'Donnabhain's Guesthouse)
28th (Sat) – Overnight in Kenmare.
29th (Sun) – Overnight in Kenmare.
30th (Mon) – Drive to Shannon and fly back home.

My fourth trip to the Emerald Isle ended up being a completely different trip than first planned. The players changed, the dates changed, the places changed, and the pace changed, some several times. However, there is no such thing as a bad trip to Ireland, that magical, mystical place of green rolling hills, dry stone walls, sheep on every mountain and pints in every pub.

Our final plan was as is listed in the itinerary above.

With much research and planning, I found some fantastic B&Bs for our trip, decent flight arrangements, rental car, and other details as necessary. Now I just needed to wait for the departure day to arrive! That week at work was very, very long, let me tell you. However, Wednesday May 11th finally arrived, as it must, and I was lucky enough to get out about a half hour early. I checked in online before I left.

The plan had been to drive home, load up the car with my luggage, and for my husband, J, to drive me to Pittsburgh. However, he felt a kidney stone coming on, so I drove the 1.5 hour trip myself, and just paid for long term rental at the hotel I was staying at. The flight was in the morning, and my friend V was arriving from Gainesville, FL that evening, so we figured a hotel stay near the airport was best. I picked her up around 8pm, and we got something to eat, and to sleep for an early morning start. We stayed at America Best Value, which has a complimentary shuttle early in the morning, was inexpensive, clean and adequate. They also had a long-term parking deal about $50 less expensive than airport long-term parking.


Thursday, May 12th: "Into the Bowels of the Theatre…"
We were up at 3:30am to catch the shuttle to the airport, print out our boarding passes at the kiosk, and get through security. We were checking no luggage on the way over, as we were able to pack carry-on sized bags. I have had poor luck with checked luggage in the past, and didn't want a repeat of my Scottish trip, where I didn't get my bag for 5 days. The security was my first full body scan experience, but it went rather smoothly. We now had about 1.5 hours until our flight boarded, so we snuck in some WiFi time on our digital demons. V had an iPad to keep in touch with work each day, and I had my iPhone to keep in touch with everyone else. I introduced V to Shaun the Sheep videos, and came across an article about the 111 Most "Bangable" English literature characters (http://www.alwayssometimesanytime.com/new/?p=3342) . We laughed very hard about some of the choices on this seemingly random list. I get some of the Jane Austen characters, but Aslan? Really? And why would Frankenstein's Monster even BE on this list?? Peter Pan?? We posited that the list was created by scattering corn on a keyboard and letting a chicken pick the winners.

The flight ran about 15 minutes late, but we had a 12 hour layover in Newark, so this was no problem for us whatsoever. My friend S met us there, as arranged, and proceeded to show us a lovely day in Newark and New York City. We visited the Loew's Theatre (http://loewsjersey.org/), which he has helped in restoring to its original state. It is a beautiful old theatre and well deserves the chance to shine and glitter once more. We explored it from projection room to the bowels of the theatre – at certain points we had to pull out our cell phones and use them as flashlights, as the lights didn't work!

We then found the hop-on/hop-off bus tours and went around to various touristy sites, taking pictures and having fun. We wandered around Chinatown a bit and S took us to a dim sum restaurant in the heart of it for a late lunch. Unfortunately, we probably got the last bits of lunch, as it was later in the afternoon, but it was an interesting experience. There was serious police presence in town, and we discovered that there was a budget cut protest being planned – we skedaddled elsewhere. There was also a cluster of news vans around the courthouse – a local police rape case was being decided that afternoon, and the vans were all awaiting the verdict.

Back to Newark, and this was the longest security line of our trip – about 40 minutes, which isn't too bad. They did check my CPAP, but it was no big deal, and the TSA were polite throughout the process. We had some dinner at the Guinness Irish Pub at the airport to get into the mood – some salad and some pints (usually cider for me, Guinness for V).

We were on the plane by 9pm. Our carry-ons were gate-checked, which was fine – it's the full checking that always gives me ulcers. And, for the first time in many, many years, I didn't need a seatbelt extender! I had lost 100 pounds since the previous summer, and it was a fantastic feeling. I also didn't feel like I intruded into the next seat, even better. I did need some back support, so that silly little pillow became my lower back pillow for the trip. V went right asleep, and made sure I didn't wake her up for dinner or anything, she would rather sleep right through the flight. I watched an episode of Castle on the in-flight entertainment system, and then took some Xanax and actually got several hours of sleep myself. I ended up skipping dinner as well, as a result. I did wake about an hour before we landed, had some breakfast, and got our gate-checked bags.

GreenDragon

Friday, May 13th: "No one takes swipe cards anymore"
At the arrivals area, I called Dan Dooley, and they sent Heather to pick us up in our rental car. Pick up was no problem, and NO hidden charges, yay! We drove to the first Boots we saw and picked up those supplies we didn't want to carry over with us, such as shampoo and the like. Well, we tried… when I went to pay for my items, I gave them my chip and pin (I had obtained a prepaid Travelex chip-and-pin card for our trip). I had misremembered my pin, but I had written a hint on the back… but the clerk wouldn't let me look, as it was physically in the machine. Therefore, I tried a couple more times, unsuccessfully, and it locked up. And they said they couldn't take non-chip-and-pin cards (and that this was true throughout Europe, which was NOT correct). So I gave up, went and found a customer service phone, and got my card unlocked (fairly easily). If she had just let me look at the card, all of that could have been avoided, but it is what it is, and no tragedy occurred.

On to Carrickfergus! We explored the castle a bit, and took our first scenic photos of the trip. Both V and I love taking photos, though I sell them more aggressively than V does. We were just arriving as hordes of schoolchildren were leaving, so we had the place pretty much to ourselves. It's a nice, solid old place on the water, with lovely big rocks and nice sea views. We stopped a couple other places along the way north for photos, captivated by the colorful cuts of rugged cliffs, the wide water with ghosts of islands in the distance. At a couple places in the road, the cliff was actually carved out into a tunnel through which the road went, and I think that's when it finally hit me that I was in Ireland again, my soul's home, my anam bhaile.

Cushendall is a small village on the Antrim Coast, one main street, one small grocery store, and 4-5 pubs, rather a typical Irish village. There is a river running through, a gratuitous ruin or two, a fairy hill, and a lovely coastal walk. We found the Riverside B&B (http://www.theriversidebandb.com/), just as our hostess was exiting – she came right back when she saw where we were going. The B&B is right on the main road through town, and our hostess showed us to our room – a beautifully decorated double room with a black, white and purple tastefully oriental theme. She recommended Joe's (pub down the street) for an afternoon lunch, and off we went. I had the goat's cheese salad (a popular pub offering in Ireland) and V tried some Guinness bangers and mash, both were delicious. V had never tried goat's cheese before, but she was hooked when I offered some of mine to try.

We decided to take a walk around town, see what was on offer, and then found a path to Layde Hill – lovely path through the woods and to a park, with a small waterfall nearby. It was beginning to get later, so we stopped at the grocery store to get some supplies. V is a Diet Coke addict, and needed to stock up (3-4 a day, plus coffee in the morning is a minimum). We got some snacks, including nuts, apples, etc, and what V deemed Apple Crap – carbonated apple-flavored diet drink (ick!).

We did a small nap for about a half hour, and then chatted with the host, Pat McKeegan, about the things around the area we can do. He was genuinely helpful, and you could very much tell he loved the interaction with guests, and talking about the local area. He recommended Glenaan, Torr Scenic Road, and Cushendun, as well as music at Joe's in the evenings. Some of it was traditional, some wasn't, but there were several rooms where music was played, so we could take our choice. We had a couple pints, laughed with a couple Australian girls about the 111 Bangable list mentioned above, listened to some of the music sessions, and tottered off to a well-deserved night's sleep of the dead.

Melissa5

Welcome home! I was just browsing through your trip report. I'll have more time to read it after dinner. We stayed at the Boulevard guesthouse on our first trip to Ireland, and I loved the location right in Westport. Did you get to Matt Malloy's pub for some music? Well I guess you will get to that part of the report later. I'm interested to read about Kenmare and nearby area as we will be staying in Kenmare for the first time in September. Thanks for sharing!

TPAYT

Reading with interest. Dan Dooleys----Yes, we've had great success with them for 2 trips.
Matt Malloy's---One of our most fun nights,

Melissa5----In Kenmare our best dinner in all of Ireland was at "Mulcahy's", Sept. 2010---check it out. The best sirloin steak (something I'd never order in the states), and the goat cheese salad(somehting I order alot) too die for.

maureencol

Happy to hear you made it back to Ireland....AND 100 lbs. lighter! Congratulations on that! You must feel wonderful. I am looking forward to the rest of your report and your pictures, which are alwys gorgeous!

Oh why did you have to gate check your carryon luggage?

irishface

Glad you had a great trip, though, as you say, there is no bad trip in Ireland. I'm even gladder to be reading your trip report. You always do such a fantastic job.

GreenDragon

Thanks, all! Maureencol, we took a small plane (30 seats!) from PIT to EWR, so the carryon space was reduced, therefore gate checking. More later today!

GreenDragon

Saturday, May 14th: "We're not climbing all the way up that, are we?"

Up, up, up! We were up at 6:30am, and discovered that the light in the bathroom is motion sensitive. If you stay still for too long (say, in the shower), the light goes off. And the sensor is not near the shower, so you have to stop and wave your hands as you shave your legs – disconcerting to say the least. However, that's part of the adventure of traveling! It was raining a bit, so we decided to do some driving. We drove the Glenaan Scenic Route and the sun started peeping out of the cloud cover occasionally, in between spats of rain. We saw waterfalls, bridges, lots of sheep, a few goats, lovely rolling hills and tiny, windy roads. We ended up in Cushendun at one point, and explored a church back in Cushendall before breakfast was ready at 8:30am.

In the lovely breakfast room there were lots of nautical items – we discovered that our host, Pat, used to be in the merchant marines, and worked as the harbor master now. The room had a slideshow of local photographs to some quiet traditional music to accompany our breakfast. Full Irish breakfast consisted of the usual fried eggs, brown Irish soda bread, bacon, mushrooms, sausage, and grilled tomatoes. There were potato pancakes and fried bread, as well.

After filling up to the brim with food, we were off to the Torr Scenic Road, Torr Head, Fair Head and more Antrim Coast delights. The sun was shy at first, but started peeking out as we got nearer to Carrick-a-rede Rope Bridge. This area is listed as a tourist spot, but very little of what I saw mention the spectacular white and rock cliffs that surround the spot. On our way to the bridge itself, we walked by a young man trying very hard to sell us some programs. He tried guilt right off, by saying how stressed he was – we at least stopped to chat with him. He lived on Rathlin Island (we could see it through the mists), which has a total population of 54 people. He had to drive his boat into work every day. We climbed over the bridge, all around the island, stared in awe at the beautiful coast, and wandered back. It is a long walk, and there were many tourists braving the winds, but it was definitely worth it. I think it was the most beautiful spot along that coast that I saw. It was wonderful to sit on the rock, look out over the seabirds darting into the waves, and realize I was there, in my home Ireland, once again.

Our next stop was the Giant's Causeway, something I'd wanted to see for many years. I had visited the Isle of Staffa in Scotland in 2008, the other 'side' of the causeway. The hexagonal basalt rock formations are surreal and strange. The walk down to the causeway was up and down, and beautiful as well, but the rain kept coming furiously through every 20 minutes or so. Then the sun made up for it by sparkling down on the wet surf and rocks. I had picked up a cheap rain poncho at the Rope Bridge and it was my most valuable purchase the entire trip! An umbrella would have been useless in the wind.

This site was more crowded than the Rope Bridge, but it was more open and climbable, as well. I was able to find some lovely photo ops here and there, and then the rain hit with a fury. We sheltered behind an outcropping until it died down, and we started the long walk back. The small café was bursting with people due to the furious wather, but I managed to get a hot Irish Coffee to keep me warm. We got back into the car and headed towards Dunluce Castle.

We ended up taking a wrong turn, despite having our handy-dandy TomTom SatNav to guide us. It tried to take us into Derry, but V beat it into submission, and we found our way. Dunluce was another spectacular spot, a castle situated on a sea cliff, with part of it having fallen into the sea hundreds of years ago. We had the place almost to ourselves, and the sun cooperated by shining through the rain and giving us some lovely views. The only other visitor was a large black cat who obviously owned the place, though he disdained from being petted.

We went into the town of Bushmills to find some lunch. It was about 3pm by the time the effects of the breakfast wore off, and of course that's when many pubs close for food. However, we found a tea shop called The Copper Kettle that served Irish lamb stew, and we had a warm, yummy, savory break.

We picked a road going south at random, and drove through farms and fields, over hills and through glens. We spotted many wind turbines in the distance, and one or two at individual farms across fields of bright yellow (not gorse this time – perhaps rapeseed?). My legs were a bit achy from all the climbing up and down we did today, and the unfamiliar actions of driving a manual transmission without cruise control all day. We went through Ballymoney, and explored the glens of Antrim a little more before returning to Cushendall. The open vistas were impressive after the narrow hedgerows that grow along the farm roads.

We decided to explore the town a little more this evening, so we walked up one of the hills towards the fairy hill. I looked at it, felt the ache in my legs and said "We're not climbing all the way up that, are we?" This became the quote of the day, as it turned out. We found a road called Cairn Road, so I figured that there was a cairn on it – off we went! Up and up, through foresty bits, past the fairy hill (and higher). We met Johnny, a local out for a walk, who said there was no cairn – but that Layd Church was on the road, later on. We didn't find the church on that road (we missed the turn off) but had a lovely walk. It started raining again on our way back, so we dashed back into the B&B to warm ourselves in the lounge in front of the cozy fire.

We watched some TV (Cops was on – go figure) and wandered for some food. It was later now, after 9pm, so the only place serving was the take-away – I had some fantastic chicken curry, the place was called The Half Door. We went to Joe's for some more pints and music. It was more crowded than the previous night, but less music around. One room was singing along with something, and we heard several songs, such as The Joker and Summer of '69. We staggered off to bed around midnight, well-pinted and tired from a full day of exploration and visual feasting.

GreenDragon

The B&Bs I stayed at, by the way:
Cushendall: http://www.theriversidebandb.com/
Ardara: http://www.bayviewcountryhouse.com/
Westport: http://www.boulevard-guesthouse.com/
Inis Mor: http://www.manofarancottage.com/
Ballyvaughan: http://www.clareireland.net/oceanville/
Dingle: http://www.wildflower-cottage.com/
Kenmare: http://www.odonnabhain-kenmare.com/

suneun

Layd Church was difficult to find. From the town, there's a sign pointing to Layd Church. Then there's a fork in the road where the left fork goes uphill that also has a sign for Layd Church. Then you continue on that road for a couple kilometers and you don't see it. The problem is that the small road turnoff for Layd Church (on the coastal side) only has a small sign that's visible from the opposite direction. So once we had turned around and come back, we saw the road for Layd. The church is small and quaint. Not much that really distinguishes it from the other ruined churches, except a nice view of the coast, and a very old keyhole shaped cross. There was no one there when we went.

There's a parking lot for about half a dozen cars, then the short path to the church. The path continues straight for a walk around the coast, too. I think it's a couple kilometers worth.

GreenDragon

Sunday, May 15th: "We won't walk as much today, since it's raining"
This morning was the morning I was going to teach V how to drive manual transmission a mission fraught with danger and terror! We chose this day as few people would be out and about, especially early in the morning. The weather was a bit rainy, but it was bright enough. We took the Glenarm Scenic Route since we were already somewhat familiar with it, and it had big open spaces that made it easier to see oncoming traffic, if it existed. She did great, without any stalls or grindings, but decided it was much too much work with all the hills. That was fine, I figured I'd be driving this trip anyhow, but at least we tried!

Back for breakfast and then it was time to explore the Glens of Antrim a bit more. We just picked a road and drove and discovered the pain and promise that are the brown signs in Ireland. The brown signs point out places of interest sometimes ruins, castles, abbeys, and scenic views, but also often B&Bs, stores, and other things I wouldn't have thought a tourist would be interested in, such as furniture stores. We deemed these abusive brown signs, and did our best to ignore them when encountered. It did make things confusing, though, as one street junction might have 15 brown signs, only one or two of interest and trying to read them all at even 30 mph was difficult.

We saw signs for Glenarm castle and garden, and I remember reading something about a maze, so we set out to search for it couldn't find it. We ended up driving on the mountainside above the town, and could see it from there, so we went back down to town level, and found it. It was not open until noon that day, still 2 hours away, so we wandered away.

We found Glenariffe Forest and decided to take a walk in the forest path. Now, it is still raining and drizzling on and off throughout the morning, so we are packaged up in plastic like leftovers. However, waterfalls love rain, and make for lovely photographs, so off we went! The forest was lovely primeval, dripping, filled with ferns, water everywhere. There was a recurring odor that reminded me of musty stew, simmering all day in a rustic farmhouse, over the hearth with a peat fire. I think I counted at least a half dozen big, powerful waterfalls, and countless streamlets and cascades everywhere you looked.

We took the 2 mile 'easy' path, and it was delightful. Partway around, we came across a shelter that had 4 stalls with benches, and took a rest several Polish families were bringing little barbecues and setting them up for a party. This was a wonderful day, despite or perhaps because of the rain. It was very natural and rustic experience, with the constant dripping of the water, the rushing of the rivers, and the bombardment of scents from the greenery around us. The power of the falls was intense and humbling.

We finally made our way back to the starting point, and had a lovely lunch in the restaurant there, along with about 15 motorcyclists. All rice-burners, of course Harley Davidson doesn't seem to be very popular in Ireland. The restaurant itself was a bit touristy, but with lovely post and beam ceilings. I had some potato leek soup with brown bread, as I wanted something warm and savory. V had a goat's cheese salad. Much refreshed and recharged, we decided to try the Glenarm castle and gardens once more, as it was well past the noon opening times posted.

The gardens were lovely, but many of the flowers were not yet in full bloom in May, and others had been in bloom and were already a bit past their prime. There wasn't any 'maze', but there were hedges partitioning different parts of the garden, and a strange little spiral hill on one corner, that you could climb up and survey the gardens from above. The sun actually sparkled on the rain-wet leaves while we were there, affording us with a fairy-tale glistening of greenery. We went into the café/gift shop, and we asked about entry into the castle itself; we were told, rather snootily, that the castle was 'in residence', so there was no entry for tourists.

We went on to explore the brown-signed Glencloy Scenic Route, and came across many of the typically Irish stone walls corralling farms across galloping hills, steeper and steeper over each one as we drove. On the way back we found the first Ruin of No Consequence, a lovely ruined structure on a hill but no sign or indication of what it was, what it had been, why it was there.

Coming back to Cushendall, we decided to find Layd Church this time. We drove to where we thought the turn off was, and found a small parking lot and a short walk to the church itself. It was small, but with several lovely Celtic Crosses, so I took some photographs. We then started walking along the coastal path not realizing it was quite long. It was lovely, though, and we saw the shore from up high on this path. We saw islands in the mist in the distance, and V decided that it must be Scotland. In her best Tina Fey/Sarah Palin voice, she claimed 'I can see Scotland from my path!' Fisherman, a man playing with his dog, many varieties of flowers and the occasional mist of rain accompanied our journey, which let us out somewhat down the road from our car.

We made our way back and had dinner at Harry's, a restaurant on the corner. I had the seafood chowder (which surprised me by having chunks of tomato in the cream-based soup), while V had a platter with parma ham, chorizo sausage, and duck egg rolls. During dinner, we decided today's phrase of the day was "We won't walk as much today, since it's raining."

Having grown up in Florida, I took palm trees for granted, but always assumed it was at least a subtropical tree. I had previously seen a couple here and there in the southwest of Ireland, but noticed that here, in the northeast, almost everyone had at least one palm tree in their yard. There were various species of them, some short and bushy, most tall and V-shaped. Many looked a bit worse for wear, and not at all healthy, but everyone had them in their yards. It's not what most people think of when they think of Ireland, and it was a bit bizarre to see them so often.

We warmed up after dinner in the lounge of the B&B, by the toasty fire, and caught up on our facebook addiction. We watched a BBC special on puffins around the islands, and went off for an early night. The host also came in for a bit and talked to us some more, he was a very sweet man, and obviously loved the area.

irishface

Great job! Keep the story coming! Thanks!

GreenDragon

Thanks irishface, and suneun - as you see, I did find Layd Church, and it was worth the search. Comments always appreciated, as well as ego-boosting praise

Monday, May 16th: "The Inis Eoghain 100" or "The hardest working man in Ardara"
I awoke from a disturbing dream. I had dreamt that we were already back in the US, at work, having taken a flight back, intending to return for the rest of our vacation, but then discovered we couldn't afford to come back to finish up. Shaking that thought off, we got up, packed and that's when I realized that I hadn't packed the battery recharger for the video recorder. D'oh! Well, that puts a damper on things. I had taken some video already, and while I was primarily a photo lover, I also knew there were some sights better shared through video, such as performances, crashing waves, etc.

I decided to order one on Amazon and ask them to deliver it to one of our upcoming B&Bs, so I tried that. Their delivery date was between May 20th and 25th; this would be OK if they delivered as promised, as we'd be close enough to the area to pick it up, so I placed the order. We shall see. In the meantime, my regular camera did take short video clips, though it ate up memory and battery – but I had plenty of memory and a spare rechargeable battery, so I figured I was good.

I like bringing postcards from my home state and leaving them with Thank You notes at our B&Bs, so both V and I did this. Pat was off to work this morning, so we had our breakfast served by Mrs. McKeegan and settled up with her. Today we were off to Donegal!

We started off through Glenarm, and then to Coleraine, Ballycastle and to Derry. Around Armoy, I realized I needed to gas up for the first time, and realized I had almost forgotten one of the sights nearby I had listed, the Dark Hedges. Luckily, the store clerk knew exactly where it was (it was very close) and gave us directions for finding it. It's an amazing little place, just one road with interesting trees all along it, the branches twisting and tangling to make it look odd and strange. We also found a church with a round tower, called Gleneshk, and then we headed off towards Derry. We found the wide road! It was luxurious after several days of winding through tracks in the Glens, and afforded a wonderful view once we crossed a ridge, looking down on the Inishowen peninsula in the distance, half-hidden by haze and mist.

We decided to explore said peninsula on the way to Ardara, even though it was one of our rainy days. We took the road north to Stroove, but ran across a brown sign that simply said 'Inis Eoghain 100'. We didn't know what this was, though I should have realized that it was the Irish spelling of Inishowen. I realized that much later.

We kept seeing more signs for it, and kept following them – it led us to the other side of the peninsula, then up north along the coast. It turned into an epic quest, full of interesting sights and small villages. When I spotted a map next to another of the brown signs, I stopped to look – the 'Inis Eoghan 100' was simply a poetic name for 'the scenic route', evidently. But that was fine, it was a lovely journey. Also, the map was right next to a small pavilion that housed a 7th century Celtic Cross, and I was excited to have found that by accident. I have an addiction to Celtic Crosses, and I had to get my fix regularly throughout the journey. Sometimes I could bypass a cemetery (V doesn't feel comfortable tramping around the graves, so I tried to restrain myself somewhat), but sometimes I just needed my fix. Usually I'd leave V somewhere shopping or with a pint while I went and indulged.

We continued along the Inis Eoghain 100 to Malin Head, and this is where TomTom started getting stroppy. As many of you know, most GPS/SatNav systems will plan the most direct route to your destination. It gives no consideration to the size, condition or accessibility of the road it recommends. We discovered this was a bit of a problem in Ireland, several times, as the most direct route is often the least maintained.

This particular time, it decided to take us up and up, over a mountain – on an unpaved tractor path. First gear, all the way up! It took us to the Wee House of Malin, a tiny church on a small cliff on the other side of the mountain – but TomTom tried to tell us to keep going, off the cliff. We wisely ignored its polite suggestion. At this point it got pissed at us and took us on another unpaved road over another mountain pass, and into Stroove.

By this time, we were quite hungry, and, having been on the road for several hours, needed some comfort facilities. However, as we drove into Stroove, it looked like a ghost town. Even though it was around 11am by this time, it was dead – every pub or store we looked at was boarded up, despite huge signs declaring it was open. Really, is it so hard to take down an open sign when you close? False advertising!

We kept driving into town, and finally found Carey's Fish & Chips store by the shoreline. They said the stores usually open during season, but we were early for that yet, being only mid-May. We had some chips with curry and a chicken kabob, and enjoyed not driving on steep, tiny mountain tracks for a little while. We went out to enjoy the quay, take some pictures of furiously lashing waves upon the rocks, and then retreated from the ocean winds into our car.

We followed the now ubiquitous 'Inis Eoghain 100' brown signs around the east coast of Inishowen to Muff (giggle), and across to Letterkenny, once more on the 'mainland.' V realized that we were out of the UK and in the Republic of Ireland without any sort of border patrol or crossing check. There was a point on the large, wide road where they were stopping cars, but they glanced at us and waved us by, without even making us fully stop – evidently we weren't who they were looking for. And going back in and out of the UK or Ireland had no signs, even.

And that's when TomTom got pissy again – and took us through a tiny road with more potholes than I'd yet seen in one place before we found the main road again. We drove through mountains and rain, mist and puddles to Glenties, and finally to our day's destination, Ardara. I'm sure there was a better road, but we must have missed a turn, and TomTom found the most difficult way through once again.

Ardara was my favorite town on this trip. There isn't one reason that sticks out as to why it's my favorite, it just seems to be a conglomeration of all the little reasons. It's not a large place, just one main street through town with perhaps a dozen pubs and restaurants. It's near the sea, and has some fantastic sights nearby, with mountains in the distance. The people were all incredibly friendly, and I could easily move there someday. I felt at home – more than that, I felt part of the family.

Once in the town, we found Portnoo Road (north out of town) without any problems. Our B&B, Bay View Country House, (http://www.bayviewcountryhouse.com/) was down the street perhaps a half mile from town, and was a pleasant surprise. The house itself was large, with a big yard and lovely landscaping and plenty of parking. The lounge was warm and inviting, and the room Marian showed us was huge. It had lots of windows, a large bathroom, and two beds (one single, one double). The other rooms appeared a bit smaller, but I didn't go snooping. We were delighted!

Since the wind was howling and the sky was weeping most of the day (especially the latter half) we were well-wearied and weathered, and decided to find some warming beverages and filling food. Marian recommended Nancy's Bar, and mentioned there was an event going on that night. When we arrived, it was certainly crowded, and when enquiring about food, was told that they weren't serving that night, because of the event, but that we could try the Heritage Bar. So we walked down the block for the Heritage Bar – who said food was more of a 'weekend' thing or a 'bank holiday' thing. We got the impression it wasn't really a 'normal' thing at all.

Right – so, off to the Nesbitt Arms, a hotel nearby. I have found that hotels serve food when no one else wants to, though not always the best food, it's the most reliable source. I prefer pubs for the atmosphere, but when those are unavailable, we can at least find food. And that's where we discovered the hardest working man in Ardara! He was desk clerk, bartender, busboy and waiter to a fairly full restaurant. I ordered the monkfish and prawn tart with vegetable soup, and V had the goat cheese salad, and we both had pints of cider. The hardest working man in Ardara booked around the place like a man on speed – taking orders from a party of 9, getting us our food (and it was not slow service, either!), cleaning glasses, etc.

V and I started talking about books, the days' sights, etc. Kinnagoe Bay on Inishowen was breathtakingly beautiful, and I only wish it was bright and sunny to see the sweeping sand sparkling in the sunlight. As it was, the memories were dim and gloomy, misty and soft. V mentioned that she didn't like the Northern Irish accent too much, it reminded her of chav London accents, with a question at the end of each sentence.

After a pleasant evening not driving, we wandered back to the B&B for a well-deserved rest.

GreenDragon

Tuesday, May 17th: "Thou shalt not waste the pickle!"
This morning V was introduced to white pudding for the first time, which she liked. I enjoy both black and white pudding, as well as haggis… I truly don't understand why people don't like it, it's just sausage with some grains in it. However, some folks are a little squeamish about ingredients, I suppose. We had breakfast with a woman and her mother, both from Australia.

We decided to head towards Errigal Mountain today, to see if we could try to climb it. We drove north through vast peaty bogs, saw some well-placed wind turbines, and traversed tiny, windy roads, windswept vistas of brown and black. There had been some devastating wildfires in the region a couple weeks before, but they were all under control now, thanks to a massive effort by the community, and we saw evidence of the char in many places.

We stopped at Errigal Hostel to meet Karl, a gentleman who climbs the mountain often with groups, and takes wonderful photos of it (he posts them on Facebook). He gave us advice as to where to start, and off we were. We started up the slope – and realized it was VERY muddy and squishy. Even though we had proper footwear on, we were both rank beginners, and the slope did rise rather steeply for us. Another group of hikers (with walking sticks and better gear) went up past us, and we decided it probably would be better not to try. Besides, we reasoned we could see nothing from the top, as it was enveloped in mist. Sour grapes, and all that, doncha know!

We wandered around the area a bit, TomTom tried once again to do away with us by taking us across a lake into diminishing sheep tracks. We turned around and went back after some scenic photos. We decided to head up to Letterkenny to see if we could find some adaptors, as the ones I brought were evidently outdated and no longer useful in Ireland, and/or a recharger for my video camera.

While finding Letterkenny, we came across Griannan Aileach, a stone fort on a high hill I had wanted to visit. It was a long, rather scary drive up the narrow road with high hedges and limited visibility, but it brought us most of the way to the top. The remaining walk was short and WELL worth the effort. Again, we had the place to ourselves. The view was sublime, and it looked like you could see half of Ireland from the top. Though the sky still looked stormy, and the wind was fierce, it didn't rain while we were surveying the landscape, and it was a very powerful spot. It was one of those places you were reluctant to leave, because you knew that when you did, the magic of the spot would no longer hold you enraptured and timeless.

We saw another ruin nearby, and found a road that might have led to it – but it simply went around it, through flower-framed lanes in a big circle around the hill it was perched upon. We dubbed it our second Ruin of No Consequence, and moved on, almost running over a rather questionable-looking farmer with an axe, standing on the side of the road.

Letterkenny was a maze of traffic circles and cars. We started at Dunnes (like a Walmart), got sent to B&Q (the equivalent of Home Depot), Argos (like AT&T) and then Mats (like Circuit City) – adaptors we got cheap at B&Q, but no recharger. I resigned myself to taking videos via my still camera until and if my recharger came from Amazon.

We decided to give up and head down to Donegal for the evening, though we ended up back in the UK by accident once or twice. The only place to park in Donegal was a Pay and Display, and we had no Euro change yet, so we went to the tourist office, and they were helpful and happy to provide change. We wended our way through busloads of tourists in the center Triangle of the city, and settled on the Castle Bar Restaurant for dinner.

After having been in places that weren't very tourist-ridden, I had forgotten how braying a group of American tourists could sound, and felt sad that I was one of them. "Is the bus coming back? I had to walk a whole block!" "Oh, look at this cute leprechaun doll I bought! Isn't it precious?" "When is this rain going to stop? It's ruining the whole vacation!" Sigh.

I had a delicious smoked salmon and crabmeat salad, and V had seafood chowder, and we each had a pint, and I felt better.

In Donegal we did our first serious shopping of the trip, going from kitschy tourist shop to kitschy tourist shop. I have a tendency to pick up several postcards from each area to give to folks at work, while picking up actual gifts to those closer to me. While I try to avoid the 'tat and tacky', I still enjoy looking at the offerings and giggling a bit, like the glow-in-the-dark Guinness boxer shorts, and such.

I prefer local crafts, and enjoy supporting the local economy. I waited to buy a knit hat until I found one that was locally made, for instance. Much of the jewelry I purchased was locally made. I won't refuse to buy something commercial, but I do prefer the handmade. I can get commercial stuff on the internet – the handmade stuff isn't as widely available, and helps someone make a living doing something they love. Since I make my own jewelry and photography as well (www.greendragonartist.com!) I sympathize and support the effort.

The last place we visited still had several other shoppers, but was unable to take credit cards as she had already sent in the night's report, so it was cash only.

The drive back to Ardara was less than a half hour, as we had traveled in a large triangle across the county. We enquired about a launderette, and Marian said there was one that could do our washing for us the next day. We then relaxed a bit in the B&B before we went out for pints.

We decided to try Nancy's again, and as we reached the door, a thin young man named Angus insisted that we come right in. He mentioned that my hair was fabulous (he was rather fabulous himself, which we didn't expect in such a small town!), and introduced us to Daniel and Michael, who were sitting at the bar. He said Daniel was a fantastic cook, and therefore with my glorious hair, we would make a great couple – certainly anyone could see the logic there! We settled down to a table, ordered pints and a Ploughman's Lunch of cheese, pickle and bread for a late night snack.

In the course of our dinner, we chatted with the men at the bar, who were quite nice, despite Angus' matchmaking attempts. Angus was evidently quite drunk, and left shortly thereafter. He evidently was a star at the event he night before, dressing up as the Toucan from the Guinness ads. I said he was quite the character. V said 'Character? That's the C word you're going with?' and the whole bar started laughing. We enjoyed the food – it had some nice cheddar and brie, and V and I fought over the bits of delicious sweet pickle relish. A bit fell off the plate - Thou shalt not waste the pickle!

We all had a lovely conversation about politics, economics, music, etc. with everyone, perhaps a total of eight people including us. The place was much less crowded than the evening before. It turned out Daniel was a cook there at the pub, but was off for the evening. He was one of the sons of the owners, and Michael was a cousin. There were 6 children, I think, and most of them worked in the pub in some way or another. It had been in the family for 3 or 4 generations, and was a very welcoming place.

GreenDragon

Wednesday, May 18th: "Sea caves and sandblasting"
We woke up and broke our fast, dropped the laundry at the launderette, and headed off for Glencolmcille and the southwest corner of the county for some sightseeing. It was turning into a lovely day, mostly sunny with wind, and we wanted to take advantage of the bonny weather.

We drove through more lonely, wistful peat bogs and farms, and saw a brown sign for St. Columba's Well, so we decided to investigate. It took us along a beachside road, and up a cliff. We parked and climbed a bit farther, but found no well. We did find a fantastic view, and perhaps a couple places where there were markers – perhaps they were stations of the cross for pilgrims to follow? There was a church or a tower up at the top, but we decided the way was a bit too treacherous, and remained satisfied with the views of the coastline, rocky and violent with wind-whipped waves.

We then went on to the village of Glencolmcille itself, and passed by the folk village, but it was raining at the moment so we went on to the coastal road, pretty much by accident. This was a lovely drive, but a bit nerve-wracking with oncoming traffic, including busses, on a windy, narrow, cliff-bound road. We ended up in Carrick, which was past our day's goal of Slieve League Cliffs, so we backtracked a bit on the non-coastal road. We found the brown sign we were searching for, and followed the road – and then another sign pointed back the way we came. There had been nothing but a café and gift shop along that stretch of road, so we were a bit confused. I went into the shop to ask – evidently the wind had turned the sign around, we should continue on up. We saw several signs like this throughout the trip – perhaps Ireland should invest in two poles, so the signs don't turn so easily? Or go fix the sign? Ah, but then the gift shops wouldn't get as many confused tourists stopping in… and there was droves of them, as several tour busses were parked.

There is parking down at the gift shop, and a second parking lot halfway up the twisty, switchback road up the cliffs. However, there is a third parking lot at almost the top – keep going up that, even the busses do it. You will have to open a gate and close it behind you, but you are allowed. We then walked the rocky sloped stairs up to the top, and it was incredible.

I love sea cliffs, and sitting on a high point, looking out into the ocean below, and the waves crashing against layered rocks below, pure power and fury. Sitting on top of these cliffs, 900 feet above the sea, was one of the things I was most looking forward to on this trip, and it was as wonderful as I had anticipated. There wasn't anyone else at the top when we were there, as the wind was still quite fierce, and the stormclouds looked as if they were gathering for an assault. However, there was a stripe of lighter clouds that stayed above us, and the storms parted as if commanded by the Gods.

The contrast and shadows created by the shifting sunlight on storm clouds was sublime and abstract, like an ever-changing tapestry of a living, breathing coastline. The sheer scale and distance was deceptive. We saw a small flock of white birds feeding around a floating island of seaweed below, and they were just small white specks, like sea foam. Again, I had no desire to leave this powerful place, I could have happily settled here for a long time. However, the storm clouds started moving about like a dance, and we figured our Gods-given reprieve was short.

We started back down, out of breath from the beauty of the experience, and as soon as we got into the car, the storms decided it was time to hit. This was to happen at several of the sites throughout the trip, where the weather Gods were kind and gave us sunlight, just enough to enjoy the places we were, no more.

We noticed many French schoolchildren at the sights in Donegal, and many older Dutch tourists. Later on, we would notice busloads of French and then German tourists. It seemed as if all of Europe was taking its vacation while we were.

We drove back down the road, taking photo ops when offered by view and by weather. We stopped in Carrick for petrol at a rather questionable-looking petrol station. Not the scary one – that was back down the road a bit, and the pump looked like it was built in the 1930s. We saw many closed, or should-be-closed, petrol stations in our journeys. Some were Texaco, some were Emo, some were unlabeled. Was Texaco pulling out of Ireland? Or perhaps closed just for season, like so many other places?

Back in town at Ardara, we decided to explore the local area a bit. We drove down the road to a brown sign we saw for Lough Cros Point. It turned out to be down a very long (perhaps a mile and a half?) sandy inlet at low tide, and saw a boat slip with crashing waves to stop at. We continued down to another beach, and put our toes in the water. It was actually rather warm, and we weren't expecting that. We walked along the beach a while, noting patterns in the sand and a girl walking with her dog.

We went back down the point for another previously noted brown sign, for Eos Waterfall. I think the Irish name was Eas a'Ranca Waterfall, as that was on my list of things to see for the area. My friend Cathy had mentioned a lovely waterfall she encountered on her morning rambles through the area, was this it? The waterfall was fantastic – tall, thin, with a nice little picnic area to sit and enjoy it right in front of it. We went on to Maghera Caves, supposedly some sea caves along the same road. We found the brown sign – and it pointed to a path that led into some very tall sand dunes. The parking lot was nearby to some very deserted-looking holiday thatched cottages, obviously not open for season yet. Sure, why not?

Off we went – into a surreal world of 12 foot tall sand dunes covered in wavering sea grass, and 25 mile per hour winds, resulting in a sandblasting. I ended up with sand in places I didn't even realize I HAD places before then! The footprints and patterns in the dunes from the wind made it a bizarre, organic, monotone sculpture. We followed the dunes through to the shore, a good twenty minute walk, and figured the caves were in the rocky outcropping – but also realized that no one knew we were out here, and the tide was coming in. We decided exploring sea caves with an advancing tide was probably a bit foolish, and turned back to journey back through time to modern life, through the dunes.

We did some shopping back in town at John Molloy's Tweed Outlet, and I bought a nice hat and a couple gifts. V found the first of many cookbooks she bought, one on eggs. We looked at a couple other shops in town, and saw a street vendor van selling food… the name was Watcha McCollum – we giggled.

I stopped at the church to take some photos of many more Celtic Crosses (I can never get too many of those!) while V went shopping for her required addiction of Diet Coke, and then we went into Nancy's for an early dinner (or a late afternoon meal, whatever you like). I had the special, a plate of steamed mussels, while V stuck with seafood chowder. The mussels were fresh and very tender, and the brown bread was soft and yummy. If Daniel was the cook today, he was quite good.

While we were eating and catching up with the day, one of the sisters came in, with her son, Simon. We chatted with her a bit about the family, picked up our laundry (only E15 for all of it, yay!) and then went back into the B&B. I showed V a couple funny videos we were talking about earlier (Danny Bhoy and the difference between Scottish and Irish accents, and Talking with Animals). V was not feeling very social that evening, so I went back to Nancy's by myself for some conversation and pints.

Nancy's was a bit fuller that night, as there was a large group of French tourists in the second room having dinner. One man talked very loudly, and I could hear him over everyone else in my room, but of course I understood none of what he said, except it sounded like the worst over-exaggerated French accent I'd ever heard.

I met a girl named Lauren at the bar, she was trying to read her book and I kept pestering her. However, she turned out to be quite nice about it all, and we talked a lot. She likes science fiction as I do, and had read the Outlander books, Narnia, etc. I showed her some of the jewelry pieces I made, and brought to show off to folks, and she was duly impressed. She worked as a server at a nearby restaurant, and of course knew everyone who worked here; she called it a love/hate relationship. I also talked to Alan at the bar about our decision not to explore the sea caves – he agreed it was a wise decision.

We alternated rounds, and I bought a pint for Alan when he was done with his bar shift, so he joined us. He bought me a bottle of cider while I was in the ladies room, so I drank three bottles in total – probably a bit too much. Good thing the B&B wasn't far away!

We all chatted about the Queen's visit to Ireland that day, and how no one thought Northern Ireland would ever join the Republic of Ireland, at least not in their lifetime. We talked about the fires that had been coursing through County Donegal a couple weeks before, and the life of a small town in Ireland. Alan ended up buying a pair of my earrings for his mother, who loved them, and that was a sweet gesture. The place really made me feel as if I was part of the family – I can't wait to go back some day. When I left, the owner made sure my B&B was close by and that I could get home alright.

GreenDragon

Thursday, May 19th: "Those megaliths are hungry for ankles!"

As we checked out of our Ardara B&B, I discovered that, if a B&B does take credit card, they likely don't take Chip & Pin, but that was fine. I have learned to make sure to have Chip & Pin card, Credit card, and cash whenever buying something. ONE of them will work!

We drove around a bit trying to find the Green Gate Cottage we saw on a postcard, but the directions given by the woman at the store didn't work too well. So we went off to find Kilclooney Dolmen, and the directions were better. We did end up walking up the road about a half mile before asking a local, and heading back, but the dolmen was worth the extra effort. Walking through someone's yard to it freaked V out a bit, but I was used to such things, having been in Ireland (Scotland, England) before and explored the countryside. There was a big ditch dug around it in the peat bog, which successfully deterred anyone from getting close enough to touch/climb on the dolmen, but the sun once again graced us with its presence while we were there.

We went on to visit Glencolmcille Village again, since the sun was lovely and we had the time to visit each of the cottages. Father Dwyer had set them up to attract tourist income to the locals, and help them build up local infrastructure. The place is very nice, with about a half dozen cottages set up to portray typical life for each time period at 1700, 1850, 1900, etc. One was a General Store, one was a fisherman's cottage. We took copious photographs until a group of German tourists invaded, complete with their own interpreter.

The drive to Sligo was a bit rainier, and we got sidetracked by Glencar Falls and the lake around Ben Bulben. That was a nice hike up to the falls, and a break from being in the car. However, the side trip took us off the main road, and we were afraid we had missed Carrowmore megalithic site, which was one of my Must See items this trip. We asked at a grocery store, and all we could get is 'west of here', only one woman knew what we were talking about. So we headed west towards Sligo Airport, and found the inevitable brown signs.

Carrowmore had stone circles, cairns (yes, Carla, cairns!), and dolmens, at least a dozen different sites all within a walkable distance along a circle of trails. We explored several of them, and then the megaliths started to show their true colors, and attacked. Yes, I took a fall – I swear they jumped out and grabbed my ankle. My right ankle twisted, I fell on my left knee, and scared V, who said I looked like I just crumpled. It took a couple minutes for me to get back up (was more concerned about my camera breaking). I was hurt, but not broken. I hobbled on to the other side of the road, where there were three more stone circles to explore. Both my knee and ankle ached, but after having lost 100 pounds in a year, my frequent falls were much less damaging, and no longer crippled me. I think V was worried she would have to drive the car now (she did offer), but I was good.

Heading on towards Westport, we saw more brown signs. There were several on one pole, promising a Fairy Hill, a Miniature Village, and some other things we couldn't read, so we figured, why not? Let's go find them.

We searched down one road, found a church and a graveyard (and a tourist that tried to back up into us without looking first) but no Fairy Hill. Then another road, and another. Was that the Fairy Hill? No, just a mountain. What about that? No, it was a ruined farm building. Perhaps the Fairy Hill was hiding? Playing silly games? Well, we did finally find a lay-by with a stone wall and a pulpit that might have held an informational sign, and there WAS a hill nearby – but who knows if it was THE Fairy Hill. We started getting disillusioned with the brown signs at that point, and my ankle was aching from the driving, so we gave up and let TomTom find us a route back to the main road.

We got to Westport, found South Mall and our B&B, The Boulevard Guesthouse (http://www.boulevard-guesthouse.com/) without any problems. Sadie checked us in, and she was slightly abrupt, but professional. I had been corresponding with Noreen via email before, so was uncertain if she was the owner or Noreen was. She said breakfast was 9, 9:30, or 10, and we could have scrambled eggs and tomato, porridge, or something else (fruit and yoghurt?). None was the Full Irish we were learning to love, and since the first choice was the only low-carb friendly item, we chose that. We thought that, since none of the options offered meat, and tomorrow was Friday, that perhaps the owner was Catholic, and observed no meat on Fridays? Certainly not an impossible thought. There was also a sign in our room insisting No Takeaway Allowed. Since there was an Indian restaurant a couple doors down, I'm sure people had done so in the past. It just seemed rather militant. We wondered if there was No Loud Talking… perhaps No Loud Giggling? Definitely No Loud Walking.

Our room was a sage green room, with two beds, no outlets, and very tall, Victorian ceilings. The bathroom was huge, and it was the only place we had a bath with a shower in it (the others were all showers). There was also very few surfaces to actually place things – shelves or cabinets, etc. V found the one outlet, after having to move the bed to reveal it, so we could start budgeting out time for our copious electronic gadgets and chargers. There were so many books and magazines in the lounge area, I thought I was on an episode of hoarders, but I do appreciate that more selection of reading material is better than none.

We got hooked up with the WiFi (she evidently turned it off at night, as we couldn't get any signal from around midnight to 9am), and I contacted my friend Debe so we could meet up. I'd never met Debe in person, but we were online friends for several years. Her boyfriend Dee was performing at Matt Molloy's pub the next night at 10, so we agreed to meet at the pub beforehand and chat a bit.

We still had sunlight and didn't care for staying in the room while we could be out exploring. So, we decided to see if we could find Cong and take some pics for my husband, who loves the movie The Quiet Man, which was filmed there. It was a rather long drive of about an hour, and rainy at that. When we got there, the pub from the movie served no food, and didn't allow photography inside for non-patrons. It was nearing 8pm, and I knew from experience most places didn't serve food past that time, so we couldn't stick around. I did try to sneak in one pic as I left, but was unsuccessful in getting a good shot in the low light.

We walked down the street to the Crow's Nest Pub, and I had a Shrimp Rose Marie appetizer, while V had Fried Brie with Plum Chutney. They were both quite good, and we realized it was a place that catered to Americans as it was listed as shrimp rather than prawns. There was a big group of American tourists sitting next to us, as well, having a great time.

On our way out, we found Ashford castle, and went in to take some photographs of it. We were getting a bit punchy from our long driving day, and decided that every hill we came across was the missing fairy hill. Oh, look, a fairy pony! This must be a fairy castle, then. Is that a fairy fence? Right near the fairy lay-by? It's a wide road – must be a fairy road, the straightest road in Ireland.

My ankle was very stiff and painful from the twisting and long day of driving, and I was very glad to get home.

irishface

Still reading and loving it. I know what you mean about a favorite place without being able to give a particular reason why. I have had that feeling before.

and did you take a "fairy plane" home?

irishface

Still reading and loving it. I know what you mean about a favorite place without being able to give a particular reason why. I have had that feeling before.

and did you take a "fairy plane" home?

GreenDragon

I think all the plane rides were 'fairy planes', as there were no crying babies, stinky people or seatkickers to be seen!

GreenDragon

Friday, May 20th: "We're not climbing up that, are we?" Redux
Luckily, my ankle was feeling much better this morning. Since breakfast wasn't until 9am (by military decree), we went out to walk about a bit before breakfast. However, it started raining pretty hard as soon as we rounded the corner, and of course nothing was open at 7am, so we got back into the car to do some rain-free exploring.

We drove towards Croagh Patrick. I had originally had the foolish thought of trying to climb part of this, until I saw it in person. Yes, you could see the track people followed from quite a distance, but the upper part was at least a 55 degree slope – not for beginners, certainly! And with the rain, and my ankle, it was right out of consideration. If I hadn't twisted my ankle, I might still have been tempted to try the lower, gentler portion.

We found a church with a lovely graveyard full of angels and Celtic Crosses, so I stopped to feed my habit and get some photographs. I very gingerly climbed through to the old, ruined chapel, the ivy-covered crosses, and the iffy footing. There was so much ivy and undergrowth covering the pieces of stone and brick that it was like walking in a bog of greenery. Back at the car we went on towards the mountain, like a beacon in the mists.

We saw another brown sign on the way – Famine Memorial. It intrigued our interest, so we went to see – a very bizarre but moving sculpture (bronze?) showing a large sailing ship, draped with skeletons. It was in the middle of a manicured park, the precision of care that it was kept made it seem quite incongruous next to the rough style of the memorial itself.

We backtracked a bit for petrol, and realized it was soon to be breakfast time, so we skedaddled back to the B&B, afraid that if we were a minute late, it would be 'no breakfast for you!' Noreen was there, and we met her and another gentleman that was helping. Scrambled eggs aren't my favorite, but it was plenty for breakfast with the toast and brown bread. The two women at the next table had asked about (and received) bacon, and we wished we had thought of that, but figured it wouldn't hurt us to have no bacon for a day or two.

Today's plan was to drive around the Connemara Loop and explore that area, and if time allowed, explore some of Achill Island later in the day. We realized that this was an ambitious plan, but we are ambitious folk, and we only had the one day in the area. We drove through Clifden first, and then tried to find Mannin Bay, another brown-sign-promised view. We asked a couple of older ladies walking on the road, they directed us in the right place to Ballyconneely, and a beautiful sandy beach at low tide, a rocky wasteland, desolate and stark.

We wandered around the area a bit, noting houses in various states of being half-built, and others in varying stages of deterioration, usually right next to each other. We were later told that people would live in the old building, build a new one, and simply use the older one for storage – and do the same process again, 50 years later. Very rocky, but still plenty of holiday style homes built along that stretch of coastline – the views were sweeping and epic. We saw one town with a spa that advertised seaweed baths, the thought of which horrified V. She said she would never take a bath in seaweed, chocolate milk, chili with cheese with fries on top – anything she can't see through. To be more specific, anything that she couldn't tell wasn't 'waste matter,' to put it delicately. I reminded her that fish pee in water.

There were lots of horses and ponies, as well as cows, and not nearly as many sheep as had been in Donegal and Antrim. We saw a sign promising that littering would result in a fine, in the oddly specific amount of E1902.61. There was a place called Dogs Bay, and a sign that said No Dogs right nearby – rather ironic, that. Farther inland, we had seen one field with about eight horses that seemed not to be penned at all – wild ponies? Not sure, but Connemara would be the place to find them, if they were.

We made it around the coast to Roundstone, a sweet seaside village where we parked, took some photographs of the area, and found a place for lunch. O'Dowd's café had a Smoked Salmon Salad and a Seafood Cocktail Salad, with fresh whole grain scones and a shared bottle of cider. It also afforded a nice view of the harbor, and an upstairs room with a higher view of the same.

The sun was out most of the day with occasional clouds and not much rain, so it was a refreshingly bright morning and we enjoyed being out in it. We decided it was time to head up to Achill Island, about a 2 hour drive. I have long since discovered that Americans think 100 years is a long time, and Europeans think 100 miles is a long way, and I know Noreen was surprised we'd been planning this much driving today.

When we arrived to Achill Island, I suddenly saw flags and streamers of blue and yellow everywhere. I currently live near Morgantown, West Virginia, and these are the colors of West Virginia University, so I was momentarily confused. Why would there be Mountaineer fans in Ireland? But it was a local school team's colors as well, as we saw several signs with the team symbols on it, as well as a pub entirely in yellow and blue (called the Way Inn).

School was out and the children were everywhere, so we drove very carefully through town. We saw a brown sign for "The Atlantic Scenic Drive" so off we went in search of scenic views. We were not disappointed. There were lovely views of the bay, and some ponies I stopped to photograph more closely. They were very friendly, especially the two foals, and one was quite brave to come right up to me, probably looking for something to eat. The owners were coming out of the driveway while I was there, and waved at me as they drove off. Obviously they were used to the charms of their friendly ponies to the tourists.

We drove around the coast road to the other side (south, I think) of the island, and saw a very narrow, very steep switchback road ahead, but we figured if the giant white bus that was coming down it could navigate it safely, so could we. We went up carefully, especially as the wind had picked up again to about 25mph, and it was well worth the journey. We later found out it was probably Keem Bay, and we had it to ourselves for a good while, though the wind tried it's hardest to discourage our presence. Once again the sun helped us out for photographs, but it could do nothing about Sister Wind. The coast of Ireland is definitely a wealth of wild and wooly coastlines, and I thoroughly enjoyed each one.

On the way along the coastal route, we also found a tower on the water, and it turned out to be Grainne's Tower. Grainne O'Malley was a female pirate who lived in the area in the 16th century, and was rumored to have butted heads with – and met - Queen Elizabeth I.

After Achill Island, we headed towards Westport once more. A brown sign prompted us to go looking for a castle, but it was covered in scaffolding, even though it had a fantastic spot on a lake, overlooking a green valley. The scaffolding reminded me of the beginning feature in Monty Python's Meaning of Life, when the Accountants set sail on the wide Accountant Sea.

We settled up that night in the B&B, since we were off early the next morning for the ferry over to Inis Mor (no scrambled eggs for us!). Both Sadie and Noreen were there, and it was clear that Sadie was actually the one in charge. She reduced our bill by E10 since we didn't need breakfast the next day, and was much friendlier and less abrupt than the first night we were there. Perhaps she had just had a bad night?

I had hoped my charger would arrive, but told them that I would be back from Inis Mor in a couple days, and would call to see if it had arrived. If not, they said they could just forward it to my home, and I gave my details so they could. That is what ended up happening, and they were very kind about it. They refused compensation for the shipping.

We decided to take a break from pub food for the evening, and ate at the Indian/Nepalese restaurant down the street, The Everest. (they had takeaway, probably prompting the sign in the B&B room) The food was delicious, we had Chicken Tikka Masala and Nepalese Lamb Masala. The lamb dish was very tasty, sweeter than I had expected, very aromatic. I wished I could eat more, but I am physically limited to what I can eat at one time, due to stomach surgery. And, of course, we couldn't bring any leftovers into the B&B on pain of death.

V was feeling unsocial again, so we went into the small grocery store and got a couple of small bottles of wine for her to relax with for the evening while she soaked in the tub, while I went to Matt Molloy's to meet Debe. I sat in one of the small rooms waiting for either Debe or music to show up. There was a girl from Hamburg, Germany sitting at one table, and a group of folks from Louisiana at another. I nursed my half pint of cider (I was still quite full from the lamb) and caught up on the day's events in my notebook. I find it's always easier to be sitting alone at a pub if it looks like I'm doing something, so I always bring my notebook.

I did hear a girl singing My Lagan Love in another room, her voice was sweet. There were several small rooms, like many pubs in Ireland, so different singers/players could have their own small audience without intruding on the other performers. I liked the setup up, as it allowed for different types and styles of music for different tastes. Joe's in Cushendall had been like that as well. Nancy's in Ardara wasn't doing music the nights I was there, but they often did Jazz or Blues, I was told.

Since I still didn't have my charger, I discovered I was doing fine getting small video clips on my camera. It did gobble up charge and space, about 1 picture 'space' for each second of video, but that was fine as I had plenty of memory cards. That's good, as the charger never did show up to the B&B in time.

As I sat and reflected on the trip so far, waiting for Debe to show up, I realized one of the main differences I saw was that there were decent seafood selections at every place we went – shrimp, salmon, chowder, mackerel, monkfish, you name it, they had it. I love seafood, and require a high amount of protein on my current dietary plan. Shrimp has a high protein content, so I ate that frequently, but it was very nice to have several options available. And it all tasted fresh and delicious!

I also realized that as we headed farther south, into 'touristy' areas, the roads got wider and less windy than in Donegal and points north. I'm sure that will change eventually, as more EU funding helps tourism, but I already saw the differences. Of course, Westport and the surrounding areas are also more heavily populated than, say, Ardara, so that was certainly a factor as well. Can't blame the tourists for everything, can we?

I'd long ago learned a very important lesson in Ireland – there is no shame in letting the locals drive past you. In fact, they appreciate it when you do, as they know the roads well, and actually go the speed limit, while you're poking along, afraid of what's beyond the next bend or hill. Pull off in a lay-by and they'll blink their lights as they go by in thanks. By now, however, I was driving confidently enough that some tourists were pulling over to let ME by. I felt so proud!

We also noted a proliferation of signs, whether they be warning of twisty roads ahead (which should just be a blanket sign for the entire island of Ireland), or 'no verge ahead' (there was a sign every 20 feet coming off of Achill Island). We posited that there was one little old lady in the back country churning out hundreds of signs for the roads, and she was rather overworked by now. The time-honored tradition of Sign-Making in Ireland, a true cottage industry! Random 'Danger' signs on every bend, 'Concealed Entrances' ahead, or perhaps 'Hidden Dip?' You decide.

The pub is filling up quickly as the evening progresses, but I have not yet seen Debe. I'm pretty confident I'll recognize her when I see her, as she looks a lot like my friend Celesta, so I just continue to observe, sip, and write. A short, older man with white hair comes in and starts chatting with one of the tables, asking where everyone is from. For each response, he sings a song or a bit of a song related to their place of origin. When he comes to me, of course, he sings 'Country Roads' (or a clip of it) when I tell him West Virginia. I told him I was from Florida before that, and that seems to stump him, so I start off with Suwanee River (Old Folks at Home).

I was joined by another older gentleman (perhaps around 70?), who literally put his dancing shoes on – evidently he was looking for someone to dance with, but I begged off due to my ankle, as I've never been the most graceful person at the best of times, and my ankle made me a right danger to those around us. He told me the singer's name was Mick Lavelle, and you could tell he loved the singing. Mick continued singing some other songs, including Molly Malone (which many of us joined in on) and Wild Rover, then When Irish Eyes Are Smiling and Black Velvet Band. He tried to get us to sing the chorus on that, but we failed in volume and tune.

The four people next to me borrowed the stool I'm saving for Debe, promising to return it when she arrives. I spoke to one of them (they are from Boston), and showed off my jewelry once more. One man's daughter also makes jewelry, and I gave him my card, as I wrote an article on getting started in the art show business.

There is a rowdy group of girls against one wall, obviously here to drink and not listen to the music, so when two players started in one corner, everyone got quiet except them. I think they were too drunk to notice that the music was even playing. These were definitely session players, there for fun and to enjoy playing, not paid performers here to entertain the tourists. Not that there is anything wrong with that, that's fun, too – but there is a definite difference between the two types of entertainment. Paid performers are more polished, and cater to the crowd more, while session players simply play for the pleasure of it, and play what they like and know.

Debe walked through, and I recognized her, called to her. She said she hadn't been sure it was me. She sat and chatted for a bit, and then we migrated into another room, a larger one, where her boyfriend was performing. He was one of the aforementioned paid performers, and he was very good. He knew how to work the crowd, which increased dramatically quite quickly. A hen party (bachelorette party in American) of about 60 girls came in, all dressed like Audrey Hepburn, the theme of the party. It was a nice change from the usual flashing headdresses and sparkling neon jewelry bits of most hen parties.

I met Debe's friend Jackie, a buyer for a department store, she was a blast. We sat and talked about all sorts of things. I dragged my jewelry out again to show it off to them. She told me that it was great stuff, but in all honesty, too high priced for the Ireland market right now – I greatly appreciated the information, and it made sense, since everyone was in a recession right now. Dee sang things from traditional stuff like Clare Island to Sweet Caroline, 500 Miles, Daydream Believer, and Always Look on the Bright Side of Life. Fun was had by all!

By midnight I was tuckered out and made my way back to the still hard-partying streets of Westport to my B&B. It was only about a block away, but ducking drunks on the street made it an interesting slalom course. This is definitely not a sleepy town on a Friday night, and had a healthy night life.