Photos are published

As a follow up to this vacation I have posted lots of pictures.  I took over 5,000 pictures on the trip.  You can get to my Smugmug Travel section at:  http://www.jackdallasphoto.com/Travel  

Of the 5,000 images 80% were edited out leaving you with just a little more than 1,000 pictures to deal with.  There are 45 pictures of London and 1,057 from Ireland.

At the Travel link above you will need to select from the postings labeled for London and Ireland.  All of the pictures of London are in a single gallery.  There is also a short London video set to music in the gallery labeled appropriately, London Video.

Ireland has an overall gallery with all of the pictures taken there.  There are also individual galleries which group together shots from specific locations like Dublin, Kilkenny, etc.

If you review these pictures you will see that I had one criteria which was:  If it moves or stands still take a picture of it.

The End of a Great Vacation

 I am writing this at 37,000 feet about an hour out of Miami.  I will probably have to complete it when I am home.  We made it to Shannon for our last two nights.  We went to the famous Durty Nellie's pub for dinner and managed to catch an impromptu jam session of six locals playing traditional Irish music.  We went to Bunratty Castle and folk park the next day.  We watched bread being made in an iron pot near a fire.  We ate some of the bread topped with butter we watched being made.  They spun the raw milk (unpasteurized) to separate the cream and then churned the cream.  Since you are reading this you know we didn't die from the raw milk product from whatever disease you get from that.  We then explored the castle and found it to be cool but just another castle.  The one unusual feature to this one was the rather large main rooms as most similar structures were much smaller.

I will now summarize my thoughts on our trip to the two island nations.  These are not specific incidents but just overall impressions.

England (London)

The people were surprisingly friendly.  I say surprisingly as my only exposure to the English was “stiff upper lip” movies and television presentations and an English exchange student who called himself “Lord Barrington Eamer III”.  This latter reference is of doubtful titled nobility status and, after one year loosely associated with the rest of us in the dorm, “Barry” would most assuredly have been stripped of his title.

Parliament on the Thames

They talk funny.  Not like South Carolina, Boston, Maine or Texas funny but like calling both elevators and escalators “lifts”.  They don’t seem to know that lifts are what go into a pair of shoes to make you a little taller.  An inch or so taller will never get you to another floor.  As I analyze this I guess both the American and English words are a bit loose in the descriptive department.  If they both lift or elevate you to another floor, what do you call them when you want to go down?  Just an observation.

They measure funny.  They talk in terms of kilometers and liters to make you think you have gotten some large amount or are moving very fast.  One hundred kilometers an hour sounds really scary until you figure out it is only about 62 mph.  You put petrol and not gas into your car.  When you have 20 liters delivered it is only around 5 gallons.

They can’t seem to tell time.  When a Londoner tells you “it is just a 5 minute walk” you can rest assured that he really means it is a just a little less than 3 miles away.  A ten-minute walk means you need to look for public transportation.

Tower Bridge With Para-Olympics Logo

They are famous for their tea but just try to order an iced tea.  You will get a strange questioning look like you just asked them for bangers and Jell-O.  It would normally be bangers and mash as in sausage and potatoes.  The term banger comes from the observation that sausages tend to pop open or bang when cooked.  Other strange terms abound in their vernacular. To have a “wobbly” is to throw a tantrum.  Cars have a boot, bonnet and a windscreen for trunk, hood and windshield.  While in London Sue and I took “shanks pony” as to indicate we walked a lot.

Heathrow Airport is one of the most confusing airports on the planet.  When we landed from Shannon we had to exit the plane down a rear stairwell onto the runway.  We walked into a terminal where we had to go through a border security check where they scanned your passport, took facial recognition pictures and compared your picture to your face with a very concerned look on their faces. They must practice this look in the mirror as each time this happened each official had the same expression.

We then hopped another bus to be taken to another terminal that must have been in Portugal based on the length of the trip.  I think I remember going through the Chunnel.  From this terminal we took another bus to another terminal.  We then had to go through the full-blown security check of all items where they regularly scanned and patted down a very high percentage of the passengers.  Sue made the cut and got a free massage.  They also x-rayed our bags and physically checked my camera bag and Sue’s purse/steamer trunk.  They wiped many components and ran the wipe rag to check for explosives.  You are then allowed to collect in an area and sit while you wait for your flight to be posted.  Here they are monitoring your movements with CCTV from high above.  If you look up you will see three lights, two are actually lights and the center one is always “out” since it is the camera.

Once your flight is posted (which can be with but 30 min. notice before departure) you have either an English “5 minute walk” (see description above) within the A terminal or as much as an English 20 minute trip to terminals B or C by rail.  Now you wait in another area while they are undoubtedly watching your every move.  A very pleasant woman of some Arabic decent asked me questions on how to find an address on Indian Creek on Miami Beach.  She had a Google map of the Miami Airport to Indian Creek trip complete with Arabic words on the sides.  I advised her to take a cab since regular public transportation in Miami consists of busses that go everywhere you don’t want to go.  Since she had already cleared all of the security that I had gone through I thought she was safe to talk to.   She spoke just enough English to get by but had trouble with the announcements to board.

"English" Estimates of Sprint Times to Your Terminal

We were ready to board our flight.  But wait there’s more.  We had to clear another security check as they again reviewed our passports, checked our pictures and showed us their best concerned look face.  In totally random fashion we were all permitted to board the plane except for the Arabic woman I talked to who was “randomly selected” to get patted down again and get scrutinized again.  We boarded the plane thoroughly exhausted and we still had an eight and a half hour plane ride ahead of us.  We were happy to see the Arabic woman walk down the aisle.  I was particularly happy as if there had been a problem they might have wanted to see what I knew.  The mere fact that I was permitted to board meant that they hadn't read the blog stories of my youth.

The Republic of Ireland

Ireland is made up of the Republic of Ireland (5/6^th of the country) and Northern Ireland.  We stayed in the southern republic.  The whole country (32,595 sq. mi.) could be tucked into the state of Maine (33,215 sq. mi.) with room to spare.  The Irish people we met were by far the friendliest collection of individuals from any country I have visited.  The English were friendly and the Irish were exceptionally friendly.  By comparison our first non-official human encounter upon our return was our cabbie who, when asked how the Miami weather had been replied, “You want Kendall Drive?”  Thirty minutes of silence later we arrived home.  Needless to say our cabbie got a huge tip.

Happy Irish Butterfly

The Irish drink lots of beer.  When in Rome….., I too drank a lot of beer.  I had beer at lunch and beer at dinner.  Most of the time I drank the Irish Budweiser officially known as Guinness.  I also drank another local beer called Murphy’s which was as good as Guinness, perhaps better.  To a lesser extent I drank some local micro-brews and a few Smithwick’s (pronounced Smidicks).  I also think I drank one glass of water but this is not clear in my memory.  Sue has documented my first beer at each location.  She has no pictures of me drinking any water.  I’m thinking of turning the beer drinking pictures into a poster with around 60 frames.  I will call it Jack with Beer until I can come up with a better title.

Jack With Beer, "Pie", Mashed Potatoes & Rare Vegetables

Gothic Church

The Irish didn’t start to have a good road system until around 1983.  They finished the Motorway, aka carriageway, in 2010 with around 1,000 kilometers of paved 4 lane highways.  This amounts to a little more than 600 miles of road or about the distance from Miami to Atlanta.  The motorways have an M designation.  The next step down the road food chain is the N roads which are also decent but involve more roundabouts and through-city driving.  The N must stand for narrow, as these are scary skinny roads with the occasional stretch with signs that say “Road Narrows”.  These signs mean if you see oncoming traffic pull your car into the bushes and say three Our Fathers and ten Hail Mary’s.

Then you come to the L roads or local roads.  These are the really scary ones you read about.  They may go somewhere and then sometimes they don’t.  You may end at a locked gate or just run out of road.  I believe there are also some C roads but these are restricted to cows.  I don't think the sheep get a road designation letter as they pretty much hop the walls and walk on anything they want.

Sheep Driving on the Left

The Irish use their roadway system to form towns and communities.  Whenever they want to establish a new town they put in a series of roundabouts.  They have learned that if they put in enough roundabouts people will get so frustrated spinning in circles that they will just pull over and set up housekeeping.  A new town is born. 

Surf's Up at Inch Beach

 

An Irish traffic circle can have just one exit or as many as four and can have one two or three lanes entering the roundabout.  If you want the 2^nd exit or 3^rd exit you better pay attention to the number of lanes and the one you will need to be in to take the desired exit.  When your GPS indicates that you should take the 2^nd, 3^rd, or 4^th exit start counting.  You will need to count all exits even those that are closed off.  Most of the time this is true.  This last rule varies depending on the mood of the highway engineer.  I still haven’t figured out the roundabouts with just one exit.  They are the easiest to negotiate but why do they exist in the first place?

Sidewalk Petrol Station

If you don’t bring a GPS when vacationing in Ireland you should immediately seek out a good lawyer as you will be getting divorced upon your return.  Sign reading in Ireland should be an Olympic event.  Just try to read seven or eight signs on one post while going 80 kph.  Each sign is also written in both Gaelic and English and which may include non-essential directions to attractions or businesses.  Now try to imagine doing all of this while traversing a traffic roundabout.

Which Way?

The Irish have one sign that I learned to love, Traffic Calming.  You are all stressed out whizzing through six roundabouts in the span of three blocks when you come to one of these signs.  It makes you feel relaxed.  It is just telling you to slow down but the wording has a sort of calming effect.

Rain.  Ireland gets between 40 and 50 inches of rain each year.  Since much of this falls in the form of mist everything turns green.  The grass is green, the trees are green, the rocks are green and the tourists are green.  This latter observation was made after looking in the rear view mirror after a “Full Irish Breakfast” in the morning and about an hour of driving on a narrow roadway facing fast-paced oncoming traffic in the rain.  My face was truly green.

Peat Bog with Cut Turf Stacked for Drying

For those who may have missed my previous description of the Full Irish Breakfast the typical ingredients are listed here.  One egg with two sausages, two rashers of bacon, one white pudding, one black pudding (blood, fat and meat stuffed into a sausage tube with spices), grilled mushrooms, one grilled tomato, brown bread, soda bread, porridge (oatmeal), fruit, yogurt and coffee or tea.

Full Irish Breakfast

One of the main features of Ireland is its ruins.  Some of these became ruins because stone lasts for centuries and wood and straw roofs don’t.  Some became ruins because a guy named Cromwell helped them along.  Oliver Cromwell is a dirty word in Ireland.  He was a former sinner turned Puritan zealot and those are the worst kind.  He thought the Catholics were terrible folks and since most of Ireland (80%) was Catholic he didn’t like many people when he got there. He massacred a whole bunch of people in the seventeenth century and confiscated the land of the rest.

Typical Ruin in Cow Pasture, Ross Errilly Friary Built 1351,
Typical "L" Road (walls, weeds & ruts) in Foreground

Pubs are an essential ingredient in Irish life.  We saw many towns that had fallen on hard times.  Many businesses were closed or closing.  The pubs always seemed to be the last to fold.  As an aside here at one point we thought we had died and gone to vacation traveler’s heaven, as there were signs everywhere about the available toilets.  We then realized that the initial glance had been wrong and the signs didn’t read TOILET but in fact read TO LET.  I guess it was wishful thinking on our part.  At least on the part of my bladder.

The pubs are a focal point where you can find a good beer, some good warm food and some good craic.  I have misspelled that last one as "crack" in previous writings when in reality it is craic.  Phonetically however it is still pronounced "crack".  The pub grub can be just simple fish and chips and a couple of sandwiches or it can be a more extensive menu that would rival a fine restaurant. 

One of the finest examples of a good pub was Durty Nellie’s which we found at the end of our trip.  This is not to say we did not find other pubs that were almost its equal but Durty Nellie’s embodied what all pubs should have.  First of all it was made up of many rooms.  There were several levels and several bars all interconnected.  It had a few snugs which are alcoves that offer a bit of privacy set off from the main bars.  Nellie’s has good food and was old.  How old?  Around 1620’s old.  Locals go there and impromptu music sessions are likely.  We listened to a group of six or seven musicians who played various instruments and sang.  Locals knew all of the words to songs that aren’t sung by The Clancy Brothers or the Dubliners for popular consumption and export.  Old people jumped up and danced in the tight quarters.

The history of Durty Nellie herself is interesting.  She owned the building and bridge across the Shannon.  She collected tolls from those who could pay.  Handsome men could sometimes pay in other ways.  She had a still where she made Poitin, an Irish potato based moonshine.  In Nellie’s time it was marketed as a cure-all.  You could drink it or rub it on afflicted areas.  It was outlawed for a time due to both its very high alcohol content of 90% or 180 proof and, when poorly produced, it contained methanol.

Ariel View Durty Nellie's and Shannon River

 
We visited many castles, tower homes, abbeys, friaries and churches.  While it may have been good to be king, by modern standards their lives could be described as miserable.  Cold stone castles, threats of attack and toilets that consisted of a hole in a stone seat that led to the outside.  While touring one such castle I happened to note that the bed faced a large blank wall just above a wood dresser.  I asked the guide if that is where they put the large screen TV.

Ross Errilly Friary

 
Speaking of television most television in Ireland was of poor quality.  Poor picture quality and limited programming.  RTE 1, 2 and 3 with snow and some American series.  The news consisted mostly of sports and weather.

In the things you can’t get in Ireland that I missed department were nuts, salads and vegetables.  There is no snack section in their grocery stores.  You might find all of the snacks grouped on one spinning wire rack.  They had nuts but the selection was generally just small bags of peanuts or cashews.  When opened the nuts were usually stale, un-roasted and without salt.  If they had a “best if sold by” date I’m sure it would indicate that they are as old as some of their castles.  Sell by dates weren’t in effect in the 90’s when these nuts were probably stocked.  They serve salads but they are all very small.  Vegetables usually consisted of fried potatoes, mashed potatoes, au gratin potatoes and the occasional carrot or an elusive stalk of broccoli. 

I was pleasantly surprised with the food.  Most “Irish” dishes sold as such in the states consist of Irish stew that doesn’t have much flavor.  My favorite recipe for Irish stew states that you should get some potatoes, carrots, meat and a six-pack of Guinness.  You then throw away everything but the Guinness.

Almost Enough Guinness

 
Traditional Irish music had to be sought out as most of the pubs played American rock and roll from the 60’s.  When found, the traditional Irish music is fun even if you don’t know the words.  If you do know the words you probably don't understand their meaning.  If you do understand their meaning you've had too much Guinness.

No Caption Needed

 
A few Irish observers remarked on my tan.  By comparison I was not pasty white but after almost a month with only a few days of actual full sun I doubted that my Miami acquired coloring had lasted.  I didn't realize its origin until my return home.  After two days at home I noticed that my tan was fine from my neck on down but that my face was now much lighter.  I finally realized the source of my tan.  You see it would appear that I am now about 4 pints of Guinness light.  I will now have to either sit in the sun or stop by the Kendall Ale House for a refill of Guinness.  I will now pray for rain.

Summary
Living out of a suitcase for a month is not much fun.  Flying today is a pain as airports have grown to the point that they are no longer manageable.  Mile long corridors, moving sidewalks, escalators, in-airport bus and rail systems, constant construction projects, poor signage, inaudible announcements, airline seats designed for the average American circa 1776, luggage restrictions and knee jerk 9/11 security regulations all dictate an unpleasant experience.  British Air seems to be a good airline.  The food was good and the personnel pleasant.  Our first Aer Lingus flight was not good but the second trip on the same airline from Shannon to Heathrow was fine.

A month long vacation is not for the weak of spirit.  Every day for 29 days you are on the go.  We loved every location.  Each B&B had its own personality.  Kilkenny, Cork and Killarney had wonderful proprietors.  In Galway only one of the family spent any time with the guests and that time was very limited.  In Shannon the people were very nice but as we didn’t have but the two nights we didn’t get to know them that well.

I will now begin editing my 5,000+ pictures to get them down to something manageable.  When they get posted I will send out the final trip email notice for this trip.  Thanks for joining us on our vacation.

 

 

Last Day In Galway

Our last day in Galway was relaxing. We made a short drive to Athenry which is a medieval town with pubs and a gas station. Up until a few short years ago the now tourist attractions were but old derilick stone structures grown over with weeds that the kids played on. Someone got the bright idea that they should clean it up and promote it with tourists. That seems to have worked because we are tourists and we bit on the brochure.

The town was worth the short trip and the priory and tower house were interesting. These 14th century relics survived the test of time and the restoration was successful. We had trouble finding the attractions and at one point made a wrong turn. This road led us out of the small town onto a road with no ability to turn around. Sue suggested that we should just turn left and we would be able to loop back into town. Logical yes, but not in Ireland famous for it's roads to nowhere.

We drove down a road that narrowed like many others and found ourselves at a locked gate. Before we could get turned around a man on a tractor pulling a trailer blocked our path. It seems he was out to move 8 cows to a different pasture by loading them into the trailer. He marveled at how lost we happened to be. "How in the world did you ever find this place?"  His question brought up an interesting thought.  Since we had "found" this place, how could we be lost.  Granted, we weren't looking for "this place" but we did "find" it.  How many tourists could say that they visited this very spot.

After a pleasant twenty minute conversation which included American presidential politics and the Celtic Tiger (overnight millionaires now penniless), we accepted his directions and turned down his offer to go back and get us some "wellies" to help him load his cows.  Even getting lost in Ireland can turn into an interesting and pleasant experience.

We found our way into town and visited our sites. At the priory we ran into a couple from our B&B who had stopped on their way back to Dublin. Ireland is indeed a small place.

We met a girl at the tower house who knew the history very well. In fact she was intimate with it. As it works out, one of the stone masons who worked on the restoration married her. She knew the extent of the work and mentioned that her husband took meticulous care using old stone chisels to keep things authentic. We also noticed that they used old mortice and tenon joints in the roof beams with wooden doweling when they repaired the roof. Much of the basement storage area roof was original and still showed signs of the wicker used to support the stone and morter when it was built in the 1300's.

We stopped at Dan's Bar and had lunch. My friend Dan doesn't drink so I was surprised to see he owned a bar in Ireland. We turned down the special which included chicken served with mashed potatoes and chips (french fries). Yes, both types of potato came together with the meal. The Irish serve chips with other potatoes and pasta without even thinking about the starch. We have also found that someone here thinks that if you mix regular peanuts with spanish peanuts you can package them as "mixed nuts".

One missed observation from yesterday's outing needs to be mentioned. At the Ross Errilly friary we were all alone. Our nearest mammals were cows in the adjoining pasture. Not a soul was visible for half a mile. You can imagine our feeling when we heard music at this holy site. The music was melodic and sounded like a distant organ. While this was quite appropriate for the setting it was of some concern. I moved around until I heard the sound a bit louder. I finally traced the music to......a fence post.

Actually it was the vertical pipe which was part of a gate near the entrance to the ruin. There was about a six inch rectangular slot in the pipe and the high wind was blowing across the opening just like an organ. I placed my camera near the source of the sound and recorded a bit of video. I hope the sound comes through in the recording. I was able to place my finger on the slot and I could change the tone. The wind was doing such a fine job just changing directions a bit that my fingering didn't improve on the sound a bit. We mentioned our find to another couple who also had visited this location and they too had marveled at the sound but had not discovered its source.

Tomorrow we are one to our last leg of the trip. We drive to Shannon for two nights. We will eventually turn in our rental car and catch a flight back to Miami on Tuesday. I may be able to get in another post before we leave but that will depend on the wifi and the packing gods.

Irish Democrat

A Trip to Cong

Another exciting day in Galway finds the two of us hurtling down the narrow roads, destination Cong. Along the way we noticed a friary designated on a tourist map. Along the road we found a brown government sign pointing the way. A quick turn off the main road down a side street for a couple of "clicks" (kilometers) we came to another brown sign pointing down a narrow path consisting of two paved ruts with a grassy divider. This road took us past a few houses and then through some pasture land until we spotted the friary.

This was the Ross Errilly Friary built in 1351. Like most such buildings here they knew how to build walls that would last hundreds of years but hadn't quite figured out the roofing business. It was remarkably well preserved. I hope I look that good when I am 650+ years old. After bumping my head for the 200th time on a low doorway on this trip I finally figured out why the friars are always depicted with that little bald spot on the top of their heads.

We had so much good luck with the friary we decided to try our hand at a cairne. We didn't know what a cairne was but we just knew that one called the Ballymagibbon Cairne had to be a good one. We drove down the narrow road for about 100 yards.  The beginning of the road was deceptively "car width narrow".  Later on the briars and brambles began scraping down the sides like primitive car wash brushes.  It was then that we discovered what a cairne must be. It has to be Irish for dead end because that's what we found. A locked gate prevented us from entering a cow pasture that looked, well, like cow pastures should look. It was full of muck, water, grass and cow pies. Off in the distance was what looked like a stone building. I assume it is this building that gives the locals a good view of the funny lost tourists who wouldn't know a good cairne if they saw one.

I have since looked up the word cairne and found that is is gaelic for "mound of rocks". Since all of Ireland seems to be a never ending scene where rocks are mounded I can't see the facination with any particular mound. I have commented to the locals that if rocks ever become a valuable commodity Ireland will be the richest nation in the world.

Beware the Cairn

We now had the good fortune of not only being able to drive our small vehicle on a very narrow road, but we could now do it in reverse with no margin for error. This had to be accomplished backing up the hill with the left and right hand mirrors folded in as we were scraping the thorny brambles on both sides of the road. I tried to look in the center rear view mirror while Sue gave meticulous directions like, "turn". Followed quickly by, "no the other way".

When we finally got to the top of the hill where we had turned off the main road we now had to back into that road which was on a curve with oncoming traffic hidden by a hill about 100 feet away. As this main road was not terribly busy we waited for a few cars to pass. We then said a prayer to the monks of the last friary we visited and made our move backward onto the road, around a telephone pole and into a wide gravel strip where I could turn around. Since you are reading this you already know we were successful.

We then proceeded to our Cong destination and ignored the other brown signs that have probably been put up by mischievous locals and not by the government as we thought. Cong was the major film location for the movie The Quiet Man, staring John Wayne. We got pictures of another friary or abby (we don't yet know the difference) and we tried to get a drink in the bar that now sits on the spot where the original movie bar was located. The door was locked so we went across the street to Squire Danagher's Bar. For those of you who may not be familiar with the movie it was Squire Danagher who was the brother of Maureen O'Hara.

We had lunch with Guinness and white wine. We also had some good craic (crack) with the locals. One gentleman in particular who discussed with us his preference for Galway in the upcoming championship hurling match with Killkenny. He was in the quarry business where he ground up limestone into fine quality sand to be used in glass making. He also mentioned the day a short while ago when Maureen O'Hara visited for a Quiet Man celebration, that she met with and posed for pictures with the locals. He thought she was a very gracious lady. She was 91 at the celebration and still lives in Ireland.

A Couple of Days in Galway

We had our great full Irish breakfast and headed out per out host Ida's direction toward Klymore Abby. We took her scenic route suggestion through a flatland area with free range sheep wandering the roadways. We went through the peat bog area where they had freshly stacked and cut peat drying to be used for fuel.


We visited the Klymore Abby in a beautiful setting on a mountainside by a lake. We took our usual 500 pictures of the abby and surrounding countryside. We walked to the gothic church built in remembrance of a man's wife. We decided to pass on the nearby national park as it was getting late and the weather was getting Irish. That is to say a wet mist blowing at 30 to 40 knots.

We make the trek home and stopped at the John Wayne bridge. There is some question as to its authenticity but near the bridge they have a photo of "The Duke" with the same background as can be seen from the bridge. They didn't have Photoshop in those days but they still managed to make King Kong look real. In any case I had my picture taken with a tweed hat that made me look so much like John Wayne I had to look close to see I was shorter, carrying a digital camera and aside from the hat looked nothing like The Duke.

We took a few hundred pictures of sheep on the way back and got to our B&B by 1730 (military time is very prevalent here), We walked the "15 minutes" to dinner near the water. That water is Galway Bay.

The next day we decided to go back south and try the Cliffs of Moher. The weather had improved and we got to the cliffs after an hour and and forty five minute drive. The GPS estimate is much less than that but assumes you can do 62 mph (100kph) on a narrow mountain road with construction, small towns, farm equipment and stray sheep in your path. If I had done the posted 100kph my little black Suzuki would have looked like a Q-Tip after our first sheep encounter.

The cliffs were nice but Sue and I agreed that the pictures of the coastline on the Barra peninsula were more spectacular. Dunguaire castle was an easy diversion on the way home and is billed as the most photographed castle in Ireland. Since it is right next to a roadway travelled by tour busses I can see why. You could easily get a great shot through a bus window. Sue and I, of course, spent an hour photographing the castle from every angle.

We got safely home to our B&B, had our requisite glass of wine and/or shot of Irish whiskey, and went out for dinner. We were about 30 feet down the street from our warm abode when the Irish mist kicked in with a vengeance. Sue popped my umbrella since she lost hers after one of several thousand bumps on the jaunty ride the week before, and it managed to flip inside out more than once on our walk to dinner.

The pub we had selected was closed until 1930, to keep out the elderly looking for the EB Special we assumed. We changed our plans and returned to an Italian place we had used before. After a traditional Irish dinner of pizza and French wine we braved the elements for the walk home.

This is being written in the sitting room with my portable keyboard in my lap and the iPad on a piano stool. Since the piano was not in use and already had another chair wedged under it I thought I was safe to set up shop. As it turns out I saw only one other couple on their way up to their rooms since I began writing this. Sue is upstairs getting a head start on a good night's sleep. I will now join her. More later......

Driving From Killarney To Galway

I am now deaf. I used to only have problems with my right ear. Now with Sue sitting on my left I have lost the hearing on the other side as well. Her screams of terror now fall on deaf ears. I can only imagine what it is like to be a passenger on these roads. There is no visibility to the left or right as the vegetation is higher than the car or there are stone walls of similar height. She has no visibility behind as the left mirror is folded in. If the mirror wasn't folded in we would surely have left it in Dublin.

The roads on this last leg of our trip got unbelievably narrower than before. At one point the paved road had a center stripe that was just grass. Couple all of this with uphill climbs, downhill speed runs, tight winding curves, the unexpected hump, blind intersecting roads, even narrower bridges and the occasional idiot in a motorhome approaching at full throttle and you have some idea of Sue's situation. She can only lean and scream. Her only relief this day was the twenty minute ferry ride and the 45 minute break we took in a small town pub for lunch.



The weather was blustery as gale force winds were being described on the radio somewhere nearby. We stopped briefly next to a seawall when the rain reduced visibility. The little Suzuki rocked back and forth with each gust. We arrived in Galway around 1730 and drove through an industrial section of town as we neared our B&B location. With some degree of trepidation we saw the approaching flag on the GPS which signaled our destination. We turned the corner and things got better and behind a wall we drove up the drive to see a lovely (they use a lot of "lovely" here) building.

We walked into Lower Salthill a mere 5 minute Irish walk from the B&B. A 5 minute Irish walk translates into a 15 minute American walk. We were regularly passed by speed walkers and several joggers. Given how cold it was I can understand their haste to get somewhere warm.

We are expecting a great breakfast as our host/cook teaches gourmet cooking classes as a sideline. I will publish this when I go downstairs as that is the only wifi reception area. I just wish I had more time here as I could help them expand their signal strength. Most B&B operators are very gracious and good at what they do. Unfortunately they have little interest beyond the ability to check the box marked wifi in their ads.

We are off to plan our day. More from Galway later.

Goodbye Killarney On To Galway

We have done Killarney proud.  We have photographed every tree, rock, church, ruin, castle, lake and boat within 100 kilometers of Killarney.  We have talked with all of its inhabitants and I don't think they have any more Guinness.  I certainly did my share of hiding the Guinness where it won't be found.

Our longest trip from Killarney was out to the Dingle peninsula.  It is here in our narrative that I must digress a bit.  We have seen many castles throughout Ireland and in London.  At most of these castles they had on display several torture devices, each more horrific than the next.  Lots of time has passed since the sixteenth century and they have finally perfected the supreme torture device.  It is painful beyond belief.  I give you the Suzuki rental car for Ireland.

This strange torture machine deserves its own paragraph.  I hit my head at least fifteen times a day on the door jamb when entering.  The seat has a new feature called reverse lumbar support.  Where some cars have an adjustable pad to provide extra comfort for the lower back, the engineers at Suzuki have removed all padding and have built a seat back less comfortable than The Rack  from the 1500's.  They have also removed any semblance of suspension so that the passengers will feel every pebble in the road.  I could not believe that the Japanese could develop such a device until I learned that Suzuki also makes wheelchairs.  This makes perfect business sense.  Cripple thousands of drivers and you will have more customers for your wheelchairs.

Now back to Dingle.  Our host at the Carriglea House is Eileen and she recommended a beach on Dingle.  I proudly stated that I was from Florida and had seen my share of beaches.  The Inch beach however was beautiful and contrary to its name it is many miles long.  Who would of thought, Surf Ireland.  We now have pictures of surfers shooting the curl on Inch.  There were also folks in kayaks riding the waves.  The town of Dingle is a cute touristy seaside village which is the gateway to the rest of one of the most scenic coastlines in Ireland.

Today started out with a shock.  For weeks I have been  drinking Guinness, Murphy's and a few other local brews, eating a full Irish breakfast almost every morning, which were followed by lunch and dinner  Each of these last two meals came with their own serving of beer and chips.  The shock came this morning when I couldn't get into my pants.  I got them to my knees and they could rise no further.  In our dark room I saw that the zipper had only traveled about 3 inches.  I fought with the zipper  for over a minute while mentally figuring how I could cut back on the calories.  It was only then that I realized that I had grabbed Sue's black slacks.

I found my own pants and went downstairs for my full Irish breakfast.  Today we toured Ross Castle and Muckross Abbey.  We also walked off lunch with a predicted 15 minute walk to Dinis Cottage.  This walk took us around 40 minutes.  On our way back we were passed by the guy who provided the 15 minute estimate.  He walked like The Roadrunner being chased by Wile E Coyote.  He passed us in a blur.  I would like to say he was young but he looked about my age, just in much better shape.

Tomorrow we head for Galway.  This trip involves about three hours in our Japanese torture device coupled with a 20 minute ferry ride.  We will have more for you when we can.  Sláinte.