The past five days I got away, really away. By the middle of the trip I already felt as if I had been gone from daily life for quite some time, and that peace remained throughout the trip. The night before St. Patrick's Day my BFF and I set off for Ireland for what would be two nights in Dublin followed by three days of driving through the South and West of the island - no set plans, just see the sea and eat seafood.
While in Dublin we stayed right in the heart of the action in the Temple Bar district. Great swanky hotel close enough to the pubs to be used for nature's callings. It was a real kick to see actual Irish pubs for the first time and taste a fresh brewed Guinness (yum). Everyone was in a real cheery mood, and the parade was delightfully artful and unchaotic. The weather, live Irish music, costumes, and entertaining foreigners were great as well. Above expectations.
Friday morning we rose early to pick up our little red rental car and hit the road. First down south to Killarney, through the Lakes to do the Ring of Kerry - about 112km around one of the five southern peninsulas off the island. It is quite common to see extremely old rock-formed buildings deteriorating in the distance, some even castles and cathedrals. The changing landscape was captivating. We made our way through several small towns, stopping for a lunch of crab and local made Irish cheeses. The homemade breads at nearly every location were amazing - full of seeds and herbs. End of night one we lucked out in a great B&B on a riverside with a lovely couple running the place, great recommendations on dinner that evening, a humongous full moon, and a stellar homemade breakfast included the next AM.
Day two on the road started with a tour of Dingle peninsula, the next to the north of Kerry, courtesy of moi driving for the first time ever on the "other" side of the car / road. Yeah, I'm a pro. It was a great morning, clinging to the sides of the mountains, curvy roads, cliffs and seaside ("tight left", "wide right", "think Irish", "too close to the stone wall"). We stopped off for a magnificent bowl of pub-made seafood chowder before crossing the River Shannon via ferry and heading off to the Cliffs of Moher. For the vast majority of the trip we were on thin roads, barely wide enough to pass two cars (hold the breath and pray as anything larger than a Yugo passes you) and extremely rural. Even when you got to a town you had the sense most places were empty or the inhabitants were in some sort of slumber. We did end up getting some rain that afternoon and by the time we got to Moher it was down right arctic, so it was a quick stop. The rain did add to the confusion of "why is the turn signal on the wrong side" and "man I keep turning the wipers on for the signal". Yep, those are switched too!
We weerily made it into Galway that evening after a full 10 hours on the road, found the first hotel we could and barely accomplished getting a hot shower and a decent meal across the street. We did rally however and convince ourselves we should spend the last morning of the trip touring northwest of Galway in a region called Connemara, full of mountains, stone walls, and free range sheep - lots of them. Being Spring, all the farm critters had little babies jumping about. It was a beautiful end to the trip - so very remote, scenic, and true inspiration to lead a simpler life and build yourself a castle.
