We decided, as is almost always the best choice, to talk to our host at breakfast, seeing if he had any recommendations. That’s worked out really, really well for us so far, plus it’s great to chat and laugh with the Irish! There was no shortage of laughter with Noel! We talked and told stories for at least a half an hour over coffee and tea, which is where we learned all about The Fiddler. Noel recommended heading up to Galway against the Rock of Cashel. The plus side being you get to see one of the fastest growing cities, hopefully hear some good music, and be in good position to take the M6 to the M4 and get back to Dublin for our last night in 2.5 hours.

Their kids, a little 3 year year old girl and a boy who was probably a hear and a half old, kept popping in to say hi and run away only to return and wave again, giggling. They were awesome, and I loved Noel’s parenting technique with his son. A squinting eye and raised fist shaked at the boy and he’d stop doing what we wasn’t supposed to and start laughing hysterically. “I’ll pop ya!” I love the Irish. Noel left shortly after to attend mass, so we packed it up.

After pulling out of the drive (the two kids holding hands and waving in the doorway of their huge stone-front house) we headed back North again to Galway.

The drive was pretty standard countryside so we flicked on some Irish talk radio. Bizzare stuff. ADD Disc Jockies playing random lame songs from the 90s and making fun of them. Something i can appreciate.

We made the trip to Galway in 90 minutes or so and promptly spent probably the next 90 looking for parking. What a busy city! We circled the block around the Tourist Info Center probably no less than 7 times, and it’s NOT a small block. The city was pretty nice though, nothing spectacular but still nice. Lots of cathedrals and spires scattered throughout. Once we finally found a paid parking down on The Quay (by the docks), we walked back up to the Info Center only to find it closed on Sundays. So we grabbed some lunch and waited for a info kiosk to open in the main square.

It turns out there isn’t much to do in Galway when it’s not tourist season. Normally there would be live music in the streets and in every pub, but not today, not during the day. So we found a B&B and read for a while, planning on heading back into the pub district for dinner and some music.

Galway is quite American feeling — a downtown area (arcitectually different than the US of course) with loads of commerical retail stores around a beltway (a mile of Double Carriageway, 2 lanes of traffic each way, followed by a roundabout, then another mile to the next roundabout, etc…) and neighborhoods scattered outside of that. We were a little dissapointed but at least it was fairly relaxing day. Not a ton of driving.

We met an American couple at the B&B, Four Winds Lodge, from Florida and chatted with them for a while, comparing notes of our stops. We had both stayed at the same awesome B&B in Doolin it turns out, and ate at the same pub (not a huge coincidence, there are only 3!).

Back in town for some pub grub, there was live music in quite a few of the establishments that didn’t serve food. We listened here and there before finally staying at The King’s Head Pub. A small looking place that opened up into almost a huge stone cave in the back with some pretty groovy lighting shooting up the walls. We got the last table, which was fortunate as they stopped serving food in 20 minutes, like many pubs (usually between 8 and 8:30). Keep that in mind if you’re planning a trip! We saw the American couple come in and look for a spot without success, so i jogged out and grabbed them lest they miss dinner. We chatted for a bit while eating and then we set in different directions– them to bed (ah, retirees) and us for some music.

Galway is much, much more exciting at night! The pub area is lively with action, full of people, many hopping from one spot to another, some playing music in the streets (a guy was playing the digereedoo even), others wandering around drunk. Pubs do serve beer after all   The only place that had traditional music after 9 turned out to be a really hot college spot so it was crammed to overflowing with obnoxious 19 year olds getting their party on (drinking age is 18 in Ireland), so we decided to just walk around for a bit before heading back for some sleep. We did stalk an old man with a very strange shaped pack on his back for a few minutes, hoping he’d bust out some pipes or something even more exotic, but he seemed content to just stare at brick walls more than we were.

For those of you who are unaware, the Cliffs of Moher are located on the western coast of Ireland, right next to the little (in size, not in heart) village of Doolin. They are the most visited attraction in the country, not surprisingly. Towering 214 meters (700 feet) above the Atlantic Ocean, the cliffs crash literally straight down. Stairs are built along the edge with a wall preventing all but the most foolish from crawling to the edge. Also, the Cliffs of Insanity referenced in The Princess Bride are in fact, the Cliffs of Moher, and were filmed here.

Now that the geography lesson is done, let me just say this. The Cliffs of Moher are beyond describing. It’s as if you’re watching a movie or some exotic and breathtaking scenery on the biggest Imax screen in the world. It’s just plain surreal to see something of that magnitude in both size and beauty right in front of you. Every picture I took of Jen and I looked superimposed and Photoshopped. Every picture i took of the cliffs by themselves looked like something i downloaded on the internet (for those of you who are unaware, the internet is a network of computers tied together allowing people to access and share information from the comfort of their own terminals. Just thought you’d like to know). It was windy, but we didn’t care. We stared at the cliffs for as long as our skin would allow, as we walked up and down the paths from the North, Main, and South Landings. If you had but 2 days in Ireland, I’d make sure this was on your list (a recommendations post coming upon completion of our trip, fyi!).

Back on the road, wind-blown and warming up, we aimed north for The Burren, a barren lime-stone laden region that follows the coast. Quite an impressive landscape, the limestone supposedly is leftover from glacial receding, quite literally “arctic tundra”, and in mid-spring Mediterranean flowers bloom through the rocks making it a truly unique hybrid not seen anywhere else in the world.

Late in the afternoon we arrived at Bunratty Castle, back south again after the loop through The Burren. It is at this point where we got to eat our first humble pie. Or giant crow. Pick your metaphor, it doesn’t matter to me. We made an honest mistake in our bookings after being deceived (accidentally however) by no less than 3 websites. Our intentions were to stay in a castle while in Ireland. Why not? It’s a bit more expensive but hey you only live once right? We looked at a few — Adare Manor, Dromoland Castle, Something Something, and so on, each of them calling the lodging part of the castle the “So and So Castle Hotel” or “Dromoland Castle Hotel”. So we made a list. Ordered them by beauty, location, price and so on. Well, we saw the Bunratty Castle Hotel, and by the way it was described, it seemed like another such place. And it included a Medieval Banquet in the Main Dining Hall of the castle. Awesome. Plus it was cheaper than the others. Even more awesome. Done. Booked.

Problem. It’s tough to tell the perspective and size of a building in just a photo. Once we pulled up to the castle we realized we made a mistake. It was much, much too small to have both a tour and banquet, and a hotel. However just to make sure I had to ask. Of course the woman looked at me like i had two-heads. No one stays at the Bunratty. They thought I was absurd. To them. How would we know right? Oh well. The hotel was across the street. And too ritzy looking for our traveling state. Oh sure i can dress up with the best of them, but at this point — way out of our comfort zone. Too fancy.

Everything worked out in the end though, we got refunded all but our 6 euro deposit (no big deal), and we got out of paying for the banquet. It was unfortunate though because we were really looking forward to eating a feast with our hands. But 50 euro each (roughly $140 USD) is way, way too much to be worth it. We were bummed.

But things always seem to turn out the better here. The Lord is good! We found a beautiful B&B nearby, and although they were booked, the owner called his brother who owned one around the corner and he drove over to let us follow him. What a beautiful place, Bunratty Haven! Our host, Noel, was a hilarious and outgoing Irish guy in probably his mid 30s, and we carried on and laughed and told stories for a while both that evening and the next morning.

That evening we went out for some food at The Creamery Bar — good food and excitement as it was in the middle of what was apparently quite a big rugby match. Still can’t figure out those rules. The more i watch it the more i get confused.

Later that evening we went in search of some Irish music. Durty Nelly’s it was, right across from Bunratty Castle. Downstairs were a few guitars in a corner, nothing special, but we kept hearing what sounded like a flute somewhere, so we walked around the building a bit and realized there was a small upstairs. Working our way up a tiny staircase we came to another room with a woman on guitar and eccentric looking man with wild hair on a fiddle. The tonality of the fiddle sounded quite flute-like from outside. It was a bit crowded upstairs as it was quite small, but eventually 2 seats opened up and we nestled in for quite a ride.

We learned the next morning from our host that the man on fiddle is something of an area legend. He used to work at the castle playing some of the music in their banquets, but promptly quit after being asked to work an extra day. Just packed up and left. He now plays at the local pubs now and then, and we happened to have quite the luck. His hair was wild, he was clearly drunk (we saw him drink no less than 4 Heinekens while we were there) and he apparently talks to no one. However he is a musical PRODIGY. I’m not kidding when i say i’ve never quite heard anything like it before. Ever. He played some contemporary music with the guitar woman (a few Cranberries songs, some top 100 hits, etc…), but he added his own bit to each. Rocked out what would be electric guitar solos, on the filddle. And every few songs, he would tear it up. I mean seriously, and ridiculously, tear it up. Slower, slower, faster and faster and faster, literally tearing his bow apart as hairs and strings went everywhere. His hair flung wildly, his fingers flew and and barely blinked. We were awestruck at his ability. Borderline insane, this guy just shows up and plays when he feels like it. Walking for miles in the rain, he comes and goes.

He’s just known as The Fiddler.

We woke up and it was raining. Sort of. It had BEEN raining. And the fog was heavy. Really heavy. So we took our time chatting with our host, eating our traditional Irish breakfasts and packing up.

Being ahead of whatever you might call our “schedule” (which really just was Bunratty Castle on Saturday night and the Cliffs of Moher sometime before we leave), we took our host’s recommendation and made the complete circuit on the Dingle Peninsula, out on what’s called the Slea Head Drive.

The point of the peninsula was breathtaking, and we could only see about 30 meters out, if that. Unfortunately the fog was so heavy that pictures didn’t come out well at all (not for a lack of trying, as well as no small of Photoshop work in my future to try some more) and we were pretty bummed. In fact, from what i could see, the coastline was even more impressive than both the Ring of Beara and the Ring of Kerry. But i couldn’t tell for sure.

After we finished our circuit and were tempted to try it again after the fog lifted a little (we started loop 2 only to see it was really about the same once you got down into it), we decided to head towards Limerick.

Plans changed right before a big roundabout when we decided to, what the heck, shoot north towards Doolin instead. So we took a ferry and bypassed a long, long route around a very large bay. We made it to Doolin (with a few fun “shortcuts” from Mrs. Garmin) by around 5:15 or so. And this is where it seemed the day was a bust.

We looked all over for the B&B we researched to stay at… couldn’t find it. Finally I stopped at the Doolin Hotel hoping for directions. Apparently, just 50 meters up the road. Definitely wasn’t the case. So back to the hotel looking more and more like a silly American tourist. So this time he calls. Full up. So we go through our book and find another up the street and stop. Only 1 twin bed available. Places 3 and 4 didn’t answer the door. So back to the hotel again, foolish grin on my face. This time 3 people are helping me and they just hand me their phone. Down the line i go until someone picks up. The Harbour View B&B. And boy are we glad they did.

What a beautiful place! Without a doubt it was built specifically as a B&B. Red carpets, very contemporary styling, a long hallway with tall ceilings and motion sensor lights full of ground floor rooms.  Our room… wow. The room was incredible. Huge arched windows, clean contemporary decor, a very comfy queen bed with black leather headboard and footboard, and a stunning bathroom with sandy colored tile from floor to ceiling. Once again we were glad for our luck, or blessing, as it was truly a sight for sore eyes.

And now for the best part of the day. Dinner and MUSIC. We had yet to hear any music played yet so we were determined to do whatever it took. So O’Conners Pub it was! And what luck we had too.

After a very good meal of Smoked Salmon for me and Baked Salmon for Jen, we sat back for a bit and waited for the musicians to arrive.

While waiting we struck up a conversation with the people at the next table, a couple for Colorado, Jon and Melissa. That’s when the good times started to roll. The jokes started cracking right off the bat and stereotypical obnoxious American verbosity and sarcasm started flying. We compared notes and travel plans, shared some laughs at Rick Steve’s expense (the super-nerdy travel guide from PBS) and then started singing with the band who had arrived. And what great music it was too!

Then an older chap who somehow appeared next us commented on the music, saying it should be played everywhere, all the time. Of course, we agreed. He then asked me to ask the band if he could sing. Sure, why not? So after notifying the band between songs, the fellow, who i assumed with ask the band to strike up a tune, laid down an intro the song by asking if there was anyone from Tipperary, since the song was prejudiced. Of course 2 of the 3 band members were from Tipperary so he began anyway. A Capella, he rocked out an awesome Irish tune (click to play) while sitting next to us on a pub bench. It was such a surreal moment, sitting there in an Irish pub near the sea with locals and tourists alike, a 3 piece Irish band off the to side, and an old sea-crusted man singing the days of his past. He later sang another song that night and then disappeared into the night.

After he was gone, the band started calling out on the pub’s patrons to sing too, as they must have enjoyed the break. At first Jon and I were singing to ourselves by reading off the signs and bumper stickers on the pillars in the place, but eventually he belted out a the tune of his Thursday for all to hear. We couldn’t keep the laughter in as he sang the tales of the Canceled Boat Trip to the Aran Islands, the Drive to the Next Town and the Purchasing of Hand Lotion for His Wife. The laughter with our new friends continued well into the night until the pub closed up.

I doubt we’ll ever forget that night!

That being prefaced and stage-setting, we began what would end up being a big day.

We starting by heading back a few kilometers south back into the Killarney National Park to take a small hike (quite small) up to the Torc Waterfall.

(Sidebar celtic trivia — my nerdiness coming out here: A torc is a decorative metal armband worn by Celtic Warriors. It was a status symbol, either of wealth or of valor in battle. They could be copper, bronze, silver, gold etc… scaling their value. They would often be given out by the King of the realm out of the spoils of battle, as a reward for their kills.)

After deflecting the advances of the jaunting car drivers (horse and buggy), offering us a ride through the park, we made it up to the Torc Waterfall.

It was quite beautiful, tucked away in a forest of moss-covered yew trees, shadows teasing my imagination. Jen made fun of me for my Robin Hud (Celtic Mythology’s version of Robin Hood) references, but I deflected them with my steller (note steller, not superior) wit. The falls cascaded a dozen or so times and fell into a river that worked its way back out to Center Lake, the stunning lake that rests up against the gardens of Muckross House.

Next we shot south and began the Ring of Kerry, in reverse, in order to come out on the north end giving us a few options as to the next destination.

The Ring of Kerry is a 4 hour driving route around the Kerry Peninsula, mostly coastal but also a fair amount of countryside to been seen as well. Having driven across much of the countryside of Ireland, this sight wasn’t anything new, although still beautiful. Of the 4 hours of the Ring, I would venture that about 45 minutes to an hour of it is what you’re really going for. A few of our friends came to Ireland last year and were recommended to skip the Ring of Kerry and just do the Ring of Beara, and if you’re on a time crunch, i would agree that it’s a good idea — you definitely get more views per hour on that ring. However, we did get to see some absolutely fantastic sights that I wouldn’t have wanted to miss, so we’re very glad we did both rings. Where the Ring of Beara is brown and barren (it’s own type of beauty), the Ring of Kerry is brilliant green. The mountains are bigger and more are visible in the distance, the loop is longer and the vista-esque views are more sweeping. All and all, breathtaking. Combined with the amazing visibility and crystal clear weather, we couldn’t have asked for more.

Coming out the Ring, our original plan was to head into Tralee, about 20km or so north of Killarney and right on the way out of N71, a really contemporary and cool town that really seemed hopping. However, we ended up with more time than originally planned so we went for broke and set the GPS for Dingle.

The Dingle Peninsula is one of the last remaining Gaeltacht (pronounced Gale-Tech i believe) areas in the country, where English is a second language and traditional Irish (Irish, not Gaelic. They’re similar but NOT the same) is still spoken. Road signs at first are in Irish first and English second, and then eventually Irish only. We learned a few necessary words: Mall = slow, Ceann Trá = Ventry, the little village outside of Dingle where we ultimately stayed the night.

On route to Dingle, along the coast, we came to what must have been a popular surfing spot. 3 or 4 surfers were out in the swells and a vast beach stretched out for at least a kilometer or two away from the mountainside. After watching them for a few minutes (and taking no less than 30 pictures), we continued on a snaking, winding, cliff-hugging road that brought us along some incredible cliffs and bays until we got to Dingle.

What a town! It was so unique and dripping with Irish flavor, we instantly fell in love with it. After scoping the land, shooting some photos of the harbor, sailboats and little shops, we headed a few kilometers further to Ventry where we stayed at “The Plough” B&B. What an incredible view, i can’t even describe it. Ceann Trá is literally translated as “Head of the Bay”, as the water came to (surprise) a bay. A large mountain shot up from the shore and smaller ones were on the other side of the water giving the B&B a priceless setting of which couldn’t stop taking pictures.

Our host was funny and talkative, bringing us tea and conversation as well as numerous recommendations for places to eat, drink and experience some live traditional Irish music. No less than 5 places had live music on a Thursday night before tourist season, showing you how much heritage just continues to live on in this town.

We ate at Murphy’s Pub, loving the atmosphere. A small dog followed the owner around inside, eventually making the roads and sitting next to me by the table like we were old friends. A fire roared on against one side of the pub as many different internationals jabbered on in one language or another.

Music doesn’t start in Ireland until after 9:30 or sometimes even 10:30, which i guess makes sense since that’s when the drinking crowd is in full swing and they want to make sure the music is paid for. The downside? After dinner we went back to the B&B to read a bit before heading back for some music…but we fell asleep. Again. We have yet to hear any live music, so we’re determined to achieve that goal tonight (It’s clear i’m writing this on Friday, the day after. One of the downsides to falling asleep before you intend to.).

In the end, a great freakin’ day.

We left Skibbereen as early as we could and set off for Killarney. The plan was to head up to the Muckross House, an enormous mansion built on the Killarney Lakes who’s 10,000+ acres of land (including mountains and lakes and waterfalls) were donated to Ireland around 70 years ago. However, the GPS (Mrs. Garmin as Jen likes to call her) faked us out an we ended up heading towards the Ring of Beara.

I recalled Jamie, Gina, Tom and Sara having gone to the Ring of Beara and loving it, so we decided to just roll with it and continued on. Boy were we glad we did. Rings in Ireland are generally big driving routes with wicked scenery (e.g. Ring of Beara, Ring of Kerry), and this one was its own peninsula, about 2/3 the size and just south of the Ring of Kerry.

The landscape was wild, literally and figuratively. Mountains cascading right down into the sea, craggy, rocky mountains with brown vegetation and dead grass covering them at bizarre angles. The road varied from quite friendly to downright narrow were it but a bike path. More than a few times I had to wedge the Fiat in the side of the wall/cliff/hill for another to get past. But it was worth it! Everytime the road bent sharply, we’d come around to another even bigger and crazier view. Mountains showed up in the foreground, near distance, and far into the distance, sheep (which are spray-painted colored strips across their back to show their owner) climbed all over the sharp hills, and small islands were out in the Bay of Beara. Once we got to the end of the point, we could look out and see the full Atlantic Ocean, with waves crashing against the island off the coast.

A cable car could take you one step further, really out to the very, very end of Ireland, but it was out of service. Repairs, I imagine, are a positive thing.

Jen was probably pretty tired of hearing my say “Oh man, look at that! Wow this is crazy!” for about 4 hours, but she never said anything. I was totally loving driving this backwards car through the tightest and windiest  roads i have ever been on, with the most dramatic backdrop i could imagine.  It almost looked like the Hills of Rohan in Lord of the Rings, that sort of burnt color and rocky crags.

We came across a few villages out on the Ring as well. I literally can’t imagine how they get anything done living there. You just stand back and see these colorful buildings RIGHT UP AGAINST the dramatic mountainside overlooking the Atlantic… I would just be standing there right now if i could. We took 300+ pictures of the Ring alone, so even though a picture can never capture the experience, hopefully it will come as close as possible so i can show everyone.

After working our way back to the mainland, we headed into the Killarney, to the Muckross House. A very cool tour brought us through the place in detail for €7/person. Definitely worth doing as you get some cool history and great views of the grounds. Apparently the previous owners from the 1920s had spent 3 years getting the place ready to host Queen Victoria who wanted to visit. Enormous hand-carved furniture from China, new wallpaper and paint everywhere, custom fire-escapes (she had a wicked fear of fire, apparently), and much much more, all for 2 nights.

The grounds lay right on the edge of a series of 3 lakes, each of which are beautiful, with mountains barreling right down to their edge. The area was once a huge hunting Reserve, and the walls inside the House showed it. We’re planning on heading back into Killarney National Park (the 10,000+ acres) to hike up to Torc Waterfall before tackling the Ring of Kerry.

The town here in Killarney is so nice, not all scrunched on top of itself like most towns (though that looks cool in its own way), but very relaxed and contemporary feeling. Our B&B, The Chelmsford House is a gorgeous home on a ridge looking out at the mountains — Muckross View. We’re spoiled again!

Weather has been beautiful, in the mid 50s with NO RAIN to speak of. Tomorrow is supposed to be beautiful. We’ve been blessed!

Today’s goals changed from their original after talking to Ann Lawler, our B&B host of Fern Hill B&B. We had originally planned on visiting the Blarney Castle, even though it’s a heavy tourist spot we figured it must be for a reason. Then we were going to swing down to Kinsale for some afternoon lunch and finish it up by meeting up with Vinny from 5pieces.com, as we had previously spoken on Twitter, proposing a “Tweetup”. Sounded like a great time. However, Ann recommended something different entirely.

The coastal route from Tramore through Cork County over to Killarney, she said, was one of the hidden gems of the country. And boy was she right. The fog was heavy in the morning so we missed the full effect of the first few coastal cliffs (though the pictures through the fog look pretty awesome) as we pulled over every 10 minutes for the first 45. The next hour was like driving through a mystic forest tunnel, as the road was tight and the trees grew together overhead. We couldn’t see more than 30 meters ahead at any given time. And I loved it.

Of course this route meant we would be skipping the castle and the city of Cork, which is disappointing as I may now never get to meet Vinny. If you’re reading this, I’m bummed man! However it seemed to be the right choice as we took the coast by storm, making it all the way down to Skibbereen by 6pm, the generally accepted B&B check-in time. We stopped through a number of quaint towns on our way, Dungarvan, Cobh (“bh” = “v” in Gaelic, so it’s pronounced “Cove”) – where we took the ferry to Ringaskiddy, down through Kinsale (the waterfront smelled of poo…not the greatest. Though the back streets were very cool), Clonakilty, Ross Carbery and finally stopping in Skibbereen. Basically this route was following just about the entire south side of Ireland.

We couldn’t find either of the B&Bs we had wanted to stay at, the Garmin GPS being a bit of a dolt at times, so we ended up at Marguerite’s, which doesn’t really impress us. No tea or coffee on arrival (are we spoiled already?), no internet, rock hard beds, and 4 channels of British news on the tv. No big deal though, we’re now poised to take the Killarney area by storm. Were we to have stopped in Cork, we would have missed the opportunity for an additional Southwest landscape, whether it be something immediate (our plans are to check out Mizen Head, the Southwesternly most point of the island) or possibly something at the end (might try to make it to Galway). At the very least, we’ll get to do either the Muckross House and Killarney National park tomorrow, or the Ring of Kerry…we’ll see.
So many choices, so many beautiful places to see! It’s really getting to the exciting parts as the trip is building up to the most dramatic landscapes, like the Ring of Kerry and Cliffs of Moher.

We had our first Irish dinner at a pub tonight. Unfortunately Jen fell alseep yesterday evening and I didn’t want to wake her from her nap. Well, by the time we made it out to eat, everything in Tramore was shut down except a pub or two, neither of which served food. So we ended up eating at Dynasty. A Chinese restaurant. I’ve heard it said that if you want good Irish food, eat at a Chinese restaurant, so it was ironic. Still, wouldn’t have minded some fish & chips instead of sweet and sour pork…

Time for sleep and in the morning… an Irish breakfast. Mmm…

Driving today was much, much easier. Not surprisingly, the lack of sleep really impaired my ability to keep myself from lining the car up on the left side of the road. The hard part being not drifting to the right side of the road, surprisingly, but rather drifting left, so that I line my body up with the LEFT stripe. That was yesterday’s issue. Today? No problem!

Cruising along at 110km we passed a lot of patchwork countryside, sheep, hills and coastal land until we came to the Irish National Heritage Park, recommended by our hosts. The place is a recreated timeline of the Irish settlers covering 9,000 years of history. They have huts starting from simple thatch and working up to an island crannog fort, each pretty faithfully recreated in the style and material of that day. It’s not quite tourist season yet so we had a personal guided tour where we ended up chatting more about Lost than the lost days. All and all, a pretty enjoyable time.

After seeing all there was to see, we packed it up and headed a few miles towards the coast to have some lunch in Wexford. We were surprised at how quaint and pretty the town was! Running along side the coast with all the restaurants facing the water and shopping running parallel a block upwards, we found a place to park (still not used to left-side parallel parking… probably never will) and wandered through the town. We ate a little place called Westgate Design, tucked inside and downstairs of a crystal shop. You’d never know it was there if someone didn’t tell you. Or looked it up on the internet. I saw it listed as the best cheap place to eat during the day. Can’t blame a guy when the exchange rate is $1.39 to €1 The food was great and only €5 a person. Score.

Heading onwards, we stopped at Aldi (heck yes. Aldi is international, and they’re ever few miles.) for some PB & J like the thrifty travelers we are, and over to Waterford.

Unfortunately, the Waterford Crystal Factory is now closed, so we didn’t get a chance to watch the expert glass workers do their magic. We really weren’t impressed with Waterford at all. Just kind of a crowded city on a river, a little dirty, tiny streets, nothing exciting. So we moved on. And boy are we glad we did. We wound up in Tramore, which is a little gem we had never heard of. A beautful and quaint village on the sea with gorgeous homes and buildings. And that’s where I am now. Waiting for Jen to wake up from a quick nap so we can head out to a pub for some eats and hopefully meets!

Dublin was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Not a cloud in the sky until late afternoon, the sun was just lighting the city up. Flowers everywhere, trees budding and leafing out, ducks swans on the water, and people in the streets playing music, shopping, playing hacky-sack and just lounging in the grass.

We spent most of our time in center of the city, walking the shops, staring up at the towering Dublin Castle, enjoying the tranquility of Trinity College (thanks for the tip Ian! [the car rental guy]), grabbing a lunch on the river cutting through the city, and then trying to find the Guinness factory. Once we found it…well, it was too late to go in. No worries though, we got to see the city thoroughly.

Once it hit 2pm however, we started to crash. We had been up about 30 hours, and driving on the left side of the road required more concentration that i really had, so we rolled out and headed south in to Arklow, just south of the Wicklow mountains. We’re planning on heading to Waterford in a little while after an Irish tea and breakfast here at The Gables Bed & Breakfast.

More to come soon, and a few pictures to boot! Satellite internet is slow on the upload, so there won’t be too many unfortunately.

The sun isn’t up yet and we hope to catch a beautiful Irish sunrise shortly.

We’re in Ireland!

Sitting on the plane waitig to deboard I see something that makes me happy. Irishmen fistfighting on the Tarmac. I think I’m home.