I R E L A N D !
August 17 - 28, 2001
For those of you who really care, here is the complete text of my Travel Journal.
   

Thursday, 16 August 2001
The Journey

7:53 AM - Preparations
     I'm packed, prepped, locked and loaded. Now there is a brief lull before the adventure begins . . . and I start to realize just what I forgot to pack.
     Still to surreal to get excited. At least I had a good nights sleep.

11:45 AM - Waiting to leave
     Work is all buttoned up now. I've been looking at the map to see where I want to go on Saturday, Sunday, Monday and Tuesday after the tour. A futile exercise; I won't really know what I want to do or can do until the time actually arrives—over a week from now!

3:15 PM - So much for Carry-On luggage
     I had to relinquish my carry-on at the British Air counter, as it wouldn't fit into the "Carry-on luggage must fit in here" checker. I don't mind; I was already getting tired of lugging it around. In theory, I'll be able to pick it up in Shannon.

7:20 PM EST - Sleepless
     So much for my plan to catch a few Z's on the flight. First they gave me a drink, then they are serving dinner and prior to touch down we're getting breakfast. Besides all that, I'm in a window seat and, unlikely as it seems, there is a view. Currently we're flying over Halifax, NS. It's only a six-hour flight so there will be little time for napping. Screw that anyway! I'm on vacation!

8:15 PM EST - Flying into night
     A great meal, a few drinks, some coffee, and it is pitch black outside. At home, I would be out on the balcony enjoying the sunset. Here, I think it must be 10 PM or so.

6:19 AM GMT - London Heathrow, NOT a good idea!
     So much for my "I'll get to look out the windows, take a few photos and say I saw England" idea. Heathrow—thanks to about 5 jumbo jets landing right about when we did—was a mad house. And BIG!! I had to wait in a long line for a shuttle, then hike all over looking for gate 90, which was way, way out in the terminal's terminus. I had to rush just to get here in time and the immigration lady was quite put out that I couldn't give details about where my tour group was staying. I didn't dare tell her my plans for the rest of the days. At least I got another stamp on my passport, but it was so not worth it. I'm frazzled, thirsty and would like to make a pit stop. Maybe in the next country.

Friday, 17 August 2001
Limerick

Saturday, 18 August, 8:57 AM - God Bless America!
     Here I am in Limerick and I'm sitting in, of all places, a McDonalds.
     Food here is difficult. I went out yesterday in search of a store and some sustenance but all I discovered is that the pubs here do not sell food. I stopped in for a pint, discovered this little fact and was going to leave to attempt to locate a real restaurant but instead ended up having a lively time with a Joe Quinn and his quasi-girlfriend, Louis. We drank and talked until about 6 PM, at which time, quite sotted and feeling the jet lag, I stumbled back to the Royal George Hotel (where I had previously secured lodging) for some sleep.
     I slept soundly until midnight, then fitfully until 3 AM or so. I got up at 8:00 and still felt a little out of synch. Nothing too bad but, boy, was I hungry! I tried a few places but they looked odd and I wasn't sure how to go about getting seated, etc., so, confused, I retreated. I was fairly faint with hunger and then found a McDonalds!
     So now, fed and primed with coffee (as lousy here as it is in the US McDonalds, I might add) I'm off to see some sights and return to Shannon to locate my tour

Saturday, 18 August 2001
Shannon - Westport

2:30 PM - Shannon Airport
     Back again, looking for my tour group. It was so strange, coming to Ireland. Twelve hours of travel—much of it boring, some of it hectic, all of it tiring—then, suddenly, here I am. My first glimpse of Ireland was through a break in the clouds as we were coming in to land. Through a sea of unbroken white cotton, I suddenly saw the trademark emerald green of the rolling, stone-fence lined fields where clusters of cows grazed contentedly.
     It was so bright and sunny, not like I had been warned. Then, just as the reason for all of the sunshine was occurring to me, the plane descended through the clouds and landed in the gray, drizzling, Irish dawn. It's been drizzling ever since.
     Limerick is a dreary place, lacking the population or ambition to be truly dreadful like our American cities. Yet it possesses a tenacious beauty that continually refuses to be conquered despite the best efforts of the weather and dreary cityscapes.
     Despite the rain, Limerick was fun. I got to meet some nice people and toured a real, live castle. I hope the rest of my stay is as good.

Sunday, 19 August 2001
Croagh Patrick

7:48 AM - I'm a moron!
     As if I haven't done this so many times I should expect it and plan a way to keep it from happening . . . I managed to leave ALL my stuff in Limerick. My shaver, my adapters, my toothbrush, toothpaste, aspirin, etc. I'm trying to see if the hotel still has it and if they will forward it on to me, but for now I'm going to have to attempt to make do and improvise.

9:05 AM - Weather Report
     It's going to be a wet one!
     Update: Still no word on my stuff but, hey, it's only stuff. I'm going to want the shaver and adapters back, but the rest of the items I can buy tonight for a few pounds. No worries.
     It's raining fairly well. Bob, my roommate, tells me it rained quite hard throughout the night. We were going to give the mountain a miss due to the bad weather but, ironically, it is so bad that the other hikes have been flooded out so now we've no choice but to go up the mountain in the rain. The view is gonna suck!

11:20 AM - Croagh Patrick Summit
     Well, I wanted to experience Ireland! It rained pretty steadily for the first hour then, mercifully, stopped. It's just VERY misty and breezy. On the lee side it's okay, but at the top at there is a stiff wind blowing shards of cold mist along the rocky ground. Visibility is about 15 meters. I'm the only one up here; all the others fell behind. Some we lost even before we were half way up. I wonder how long it will take them to get here.
     Speaking of The Group: mostly folks older than me but, naturally, in good health. There is a family here—Margaret and her husband, Terry (a cigar smoker, happily enough) and their 13 year old daughter, Lottie. Other than that there is one single gal who is younger than I am. Otherwise, I'm the youngest here. On a good note, they are all swell folks and favor the pint or two after dinner, so things could be worse.

12:30 PM - The Miracle of St. Patrick
     The Croagh Patrick hike turned out all right. The day finally became sunny and warm but not before we were halfway back down the mountain. It wouldn't have made any difference, however, as the summit remained shrouded in clouds.
     At the top, the fog was so thick I didn't even know I was sitting about 20 meters from a large, white chapel. When the others arrived, we located it and explored a bit. I got a few photos of the mist-shrouded summit, then went with some of the others to peek inside the church. It was all we could do with the view blocked.
     At the chapel door was a small opening in the concrete wall. The sign above it read "Offerings." I had come 3,000 miles, hiked up a steep trail in the rain and wind and fog to see nothing but rocks, so I had no reason to feel charitable. Still, I took a pound from my pocket, set it on the edge of the hole and let it roll in. As soon as I heard the clunk of the coin hitting the offering box, the sun broke through a rend in the clouds. I scrambled back up to the summit and, as I watched, the mist opened, revealing Ireland's green hills and silver lakes. It lasted for the briefest of moments and I was the only one to see it.
     I guess that's what a pound to St. Patrick gets you. I should have slipped in a fiver.

Monday, 20 August 2001
The Slough of Despond

7:35 AM - Hike #2
     It's a better day today, for now, at least. The weather here is so changeable it could be raining at any time.
     No climbing today, the promised. Yesterday wasn't so bad but coming back down the mountain didn't do my knee any good, and my pain and anti-inflammatory meds were also left back in Limerick.
After yesterday's hike, I had to hike into Westport (about a mile and a half away) to pick up some sundries. I managed to get most of what I needed and stopped for a pint. After dinner, a bunch of us returned to the pub for a few. There were only six of us left by the time we called it a night—two of the couples and Shonagh and myself, so we got to chat a bit on the walk home which always, for some reason, seems to go by too quickly.
     I am continually struck by how much Ireland looks like home. There are more stone fences here, to be sure, and more sheep, but if you ignore the unmistakably Irish houses and such and just look at the gentle green hills and valleys and the distant mountains, you cannot argue that it does not closely resemble my home in southern Columbia county with its fields, cow pastures and view of the Catskill Mountains.
     The weather, however, is vastly different here. It was sunny when I got up and, right now, it's raining.

1:05 PM - The Western Way
     It turned out to be a beautiful day. We walked a great deal of "Boggy Bits" that looked remarkably like the Adirondacks, then we came to a logging road which lead to a proper road—in Irish terms, that is. It was a single lane of pavement winding around the side of a mountain bordered by a stone wall overlooking the prettiest green valley I have ever seen. This is Ireland! Like nothing I have every seen; a landscape that could not be mistaken for anything else.
     So far we've crossed a stream and climbed most of the way out of the valley. After this, we go back down, round a lake and then through "The Really Boggy Bit."

Post Script
     The hill we went up and ate lunch at the top of turned out to be quite a hill. Where we ate was barely half was, no, a third of the way up. The trek to the top rivaled the climb to Croagh Patrick's summit—only with bog instead of loose rocks. At the top, we were afforded one of the most breathtaking views to date.
     Then we had to go down the other side. It was steep and covered in wet grass and bogs. People slid, people fell, people—one by one—joined "The Wet Bum Club." My knee began acting up badly due to the descent and terrain until I was forced to accept help in the form of an ace bandage and some chewable Ibuprofen. It did little good.
     At the base, we hiked the rim of Lough Lugacolliwee and entered "The Boggy Bit."
     Up until then, I had no idea what a boggy bit was. I was mistaking the swampy, grassland for bog. What Jon was talking about, however, was a real bog—a vast expanse of brown, spongy peat that seemed to stretch on for miles. We regarded it with a collective groan and ploughed ahead.
It was firmer than it appeared—which was fortunate or we all would have disappeared into the mire—but it was still like walking on sopping, brown sponge. The only way across was to put on foot ahead of the other. And this I kept doing.
     Eventually, due to my knee, I fell to the rear of the group with the rest of the "walking wounded."
After what seemed an interminable time, we emerged, only to find even more wet and treacherous grasslands. It became like a military maneuver, where the point man would stumble into an ambush or onto a land mine. We walked in single file, then the point would momentarily disappear from view and we'd hear the cry "Hole!" or "Slippery bit!" The point would join "The Wet Bum Club" and the rest of us would avoid the hazard.
     In this way we slowly traversed the field. At the far end, tantalizingly close to the road out, we came up against what can only be described as a small pond with grass growing in it. There was nothing to be done but slog through. It turned out to be an advantage, however, as our feet couldn't really get any wetter at that point and it served to clean off our shoes and boots.
     There were a few more fences to scale and then we were on a broad path that lead us shortly to a narrow road. Our journey was supposed to take us another mile or three along that road but our driver did us a kindness and drove in to pick us up. We were an hour behind schedule, so it was to his advantage as well. I think we were all glad to get on the bus.
     A shower and change of clothes put everything right. Bob gave me some meds and Judith has some anti-inflammatory cream that seemed to help. After dinner, Judith and Shonagh and I returned to the pub while the rest of the group explored Westport.

Tuesday, 21 August 2001
The Wimpy American

8:57 AM - Change of Plans
     At least I made up my mind last night and even told people I was staying behind today. I figured, whether my knee felt better or not, a 13 and a half-mile walk through the bogs was not going to help it. A day's rest would put me in good stead for the 1,280-foot climb on Wednesday and sharply decrees the chances of my knee giving way.
     Then, when morning arrived, the weather was foul. Rain, high winds, low clouds. It is not an inviting day for a walk so I am just as glad I can't go.

3:15 PM - The Sheebeen Pub
     I took a taxi to town in the driving rain and tried to hire a car but there were none to be had. Just as well, my plan to visit Ballina was a fool's errand and I probably would have been a danger on these roads.
     I walked about a bit and got soaked, despite my umbrella due to the rain and fierce winds. I managed to get most of my shopping done and even found an Internet cafι where I checked my e-mail and wrote a few of the folks back home. I had some lunch—a nice Irish stew—and then the sun appeared.
With it came an astounding number of tourists and automobiles, to the point where I was wishing it would rain again so I could have the streets more to myself. Eventually, I got tired of being jostled and trying in vain to cross the streets so I called a cab.
     It's funny here when you call for a taxi; they seem to know everyone by name and when I told them I needed to get to Belcare they wanted to know whose house.
     "Oh, Gerry Greensmyth's place. Okay, we'll be right there."
     I had the taxi wait while I dropped off my bags, then had him bring me here. I needed to try to get a little Irish flavor.
     So far, I have been singularly unimpressed with Ireland. Maybe I expected too much; far, it's been a lot like home, only with funny accents and monopoly money.
     In Westport I heard about every language and accent except Irish and I spend all day and night listening to various British accents. So much so that I am actually beginning to speak like them.
     The group is still getting on well, though I guess for a week most anyone can get along. They are all a bit of all right and Judith and Shonagh and I are getting fairly tight due to our drinking forays. I've had great conversations with all of them and Lottie, the daughter, is a beautiful and bright young lady. Her dad is the cigar smoker and her mom is very nice.
     Lottie, Shonagh and I got a bit silly last night at dinner, comparing who could cross their eyes, roll their tongues and flip their eyelids over. It was all quite juvenile but fun.
     Tonight is our last night here. Tomorrow is a 1,200-foot climb. I bought a knee brace and more meds; I just hope my knee doesn't give in. At the end of that hike, we go to a P.O.S.H. hotel. First on my agenda is a laundry.

5:55 PM - Thoughts on Ireland
     There appears to be no clean water in Ireland. The River Shannon, as it courses through Limerick, is little more than a trough of brown sludge with a horrific stench. The ocean here in Westport, as it ebbs and flows across the tidal pools, is likewise brown and murky, giving off an unpleasant odor with just a hint of salt smell. The rivulets and streams we have encountered hiking—and they have been numerous—have all, thanks to the peat and tons of sheep dung on the ground, been the color of extremely potent tea.
     There appears to be no dry land in Ireland, either. Even an inviting meadow is, in reality, a soggy morass of weeds and muck just lying in wait for someone foolish enough to attempt a crossing.
This is my 5th day in Ireland; I could go home tomorrow and not feel cheated.
     Staying at a B&B feels a bit like sleeping in other people's houses. This has the same flavor as a trip to a distant relative's house, or staying with the friend of a friend—awkward, inconvenient and slightly embarrassing.
     Right now, I'm sitting in the drawing room (my term) waiting on dinner. Dinner is at 7:00, Breakfast at 8:00. There is no coming and going as one pleases. I rather liked the Royal George Hotel, and it was only £49 a night.
     The others are beginning to gather now. Mostly they keep to their rooms—being mostly couples—but I like to give Bob some time to himself and I like to sit and relax and write.
     Our leader, Jon, is beginning to get sick. He has a cold that appears to be worsening.

Wednesday, 22 August 2001
The Death March

7:45 AM - Waiting for Breakfast
     I'm feeling better today. I think the rest did me good yesterday; my knee feels fine (though I still have a stiff muscle or two). Even so, I put the knee brace on; we'll see if it helps any.
We went to a play in Westport last night; it was great. Just to be there with all the locals at a local theatre group production was so neat, and the acting and subject matter of the play being above average only added to it.
     Only Judith, Shonagh, Bob and myself went. The others were to go into Westport but mostly they all stayed in or just went down to the Sheebeen.
     After the play, we stopped at Horan's for one. Judith tells me that it's the pub owned by Chieftain Matt Molloy but I told her I think that might be a different pub called "Matt Malloy's" down the street. But this is Ireland, who can really know?
     There is talk of changing the hike again today. I guess the official route may still be under water, and I think Jon isn't too keen on these wet and boggy routes as much now that his cold is in full bloom.

Post Script
     We went on the prescribed hike and Jon's cold didn't slow him down a bit.
     I've given up trying to judge the weather, it changes so rapidly. In the morning, it was a fine day, then rain and wind came. As our hike began, it was just windy but clear enough to offer us fine views. Then it began to rain. Later, it turned into the most glorious afternoon and early evening.
     The views were stunning, or would have been if we could have looked up. After an enjoyable walk along roads and lanes, we returned to the bogs. Three miles or better of slogging through water and climbing up and down mountains got my knee acting up again.
     There were horribly long stretches of bog, however, and the day grew long and tiresome. We were incredibly fortunate that Judith had a cell phone so she could call the bus company and tell them not to expect us at 4 o'clock. We eventually arrived at 6:30.
     About two thirds of the way through the bog, we spied the front guard gathering on a bridge. Our hearts rose and we were singing songs as we approached, thinking we were about to leave the bog for a road. But as we arrived we were disappointed beyond words. It was only a small footbridge over a little river, and of little use. By that point, we might just as well have walked through the river.
     On the bridge, we continued to keep each other's spirits up with jokes and songs ("Climb every mountain, ford every stream . . .") until Jon basically told us to shut up.
     In his defense, Judith was, at that time, attempting to phone the bus company again, and the trek across the bogs had leeched much of the good humor out of us.  Still, I felt like an errant schoolboy and Shonagh and I joked about being "the bad kids in the back."
     We moved out again and made another forced march through the remains of the bog.
     At length, we emerged onto a gravel path that lead past a small beach. A boy and his dad were near the water and asked where we had come from.
     "About 12 miles from that direction," Meg told them. Then she said to the boy, "I thought the Leprechauns were going to get us!" To which the dad replied, "Sure, and no Leprechaun would be mad enough to go walking back there!"
     Eventually, we made it to the bus and the hotel. After a shower (or bath, as the Brits prefer) and some clean clothing we all felt much better.
     The Connemara Gateway Hotel was nice but far removed from town. After dinner, we hired a taxi to take us—me, Shonagh, Judith and John and Mary—to a pub. We had a bitch session in one pub, then went to listen to some atrocious "traditional Irish" music at another.
     We left at 11:30. We had asked our cab driver to come for us earlier but he insisted on not picking us up until then.
     "Eleven o'clock won't be enough time if you're out for a pint," he said, "I'll be there at half eleven."
     When Judith asked him what pubs he went to, he replied, "Oh now, I don't drink a'tall a'tall."
     We arrived at an eerily empty, dark and silent hotel—apparently they do not wait up for their guests—and turned in, quite tired after such a long day.

Thursday, 23 August 2001
Inishmore

     This was the first time I had to rely on the alarm to wake me up. I got showered and dressed and went to the pool room to uncover the pool for Judith. By the time I arrived it was done so I went back and waited for breakfast.
     We ate, packed and were out right on time.
     Shonagh and I paired up for the day and had a lovely time wandering around Inishmore. We browsed and walked by the ocean and had lunch in a pub. Then we walked back to the main village and stopped for a pint.
     The ferry rides were nice and the ride to the Hotel Carrigan short.
     Lisdoonvarna is a minute's walk away and we have just one more hike. No worries, right?
Wrong! My knee is killing me. I have no clean clothes. I can't wash them anywhere, I can't get anyone else to wash them anywhere and I can't buy any. And I can't even get a drink at the bartenderless bar in this useless place!
     I really don't know what tomorrow holds. I actually would like to walk but I seriously doubt my ability to make a 13-mile hike with a 1,400-foot ascent.

Friday, 24 August 2001
The Cliffs of Moher

9:15 AM - Playing Hooky
     Last evening, as I walked into town in (a fruitless) search of a laundry, my knee buckled and the decision about Friday's hike was made.
     I put some cream on it, took some pills and put on the brace. It felt some better, but not enough so I would consider the hike.
     While waiting at the bar for dinner, Shonagh came in and asked about the next day's hike, saying she thought she wouldn't go and could we do something together. I told her I had already decided to not go on the hike so all was settled.
     Apparently Judith and some others have been concerned about my knee (and rightfully so) and Judith was encouraging Shonagh to see if she couldn't convince me to give the next day's hike a miss. Even Jon seemed relieved that I wasn't going.

6:03 PM
     Today was absolutely the best day so far!
     Shonagh and I took a stroll into town after breakfast, me hauling my dirty laundry. We stopped at the visitor's center and then went on to the laundry. The woman came around 10:00 and was very accommodating. She took my dirty clothes and said if I couldn't be back by 6:00, to pick them up at the Royal Spa. "They'll have it behind the bar," she told me. I pre-paid £6 and we left to call a taxi.
     Ten quid and twenty minutes later we were at the Cliffs of Moher. What a spectacular sight! Indescribably breathtaking! I am so glad I didn't leave Ireland without seeing them.
     We wandered the paths along the cliff edges, sat and chatted for a while and then decided to walk into Doolin.
     The day began with a thin cloud cover that added to the dramatic look of the cliffs, the crashing waves and the deep turquoise ocean. As we walked, it got clearer and clearer until it was a bright, warm, sunny day. All around us were rolling emerald hills dotted with cows, sheep, hay bails and distant villages.
     After a lovely walk, we entered Doolin. We took lunch in a very nice pub, then decide that we should continue walking on to Lisdoonvarna.
     That, again, proved a wonderful occasion for stunning views and the enjoyment of the magnificent weather.
     After returning to the hotel, I went into town to get my laundry.

Post Script
     After dinner, the three of us returned to town—this time to a different pub featuring a decent band and an occasional bagpiper.
     We stayed for a bit, listening to the music and chatting, then took a leisurely walk back to the hotel.

Saturday, 25 August 2001
Ennis

     For the second time, I had to rely on the alarm.
     I woke up, showered, packed and went down for breakfast. After that, we loaded the bus and drove into Ennis.
     We said good-bye to half of our party at Ennis (they were going on to different places and/or flights) toured the town a bit and gathered back on the bus. Then we drove to Shannon airport where I rented a car an said good-bye to the rest of the party.

5:24 PM - Real Ireland
     I'm back in Ennis. I didn't mean to go here but I took a wrong turn. It was interesting trying to drive but I managed to get the hang of it after a bit.
     It was a bit frustrating trying to get a room—all the B&B's were full. Finally, I stumbled on a motor lodge somewhere outside of town. And I think I finally found real Ireland.
     When I asked for a room (first I looked for an office, then went into the adjoining bar and approached the bartender) the proprietor said he did have single available. I drove around and he opened the room.
     "What time is check out?" I asked.
     "Well, when do you want to check out?" he says. "We don't rush people out. When would you be wanting breakfast?"
     "About 8 o'clock," I told him.
     "Oh, the staff arrives about 8 so that should be fine."
     He then went on to inform me about a hurling tournament in town—which was why almost everyone was booked up.
     "Leave your car here and walk into town," he advised. "It's a ten minute walk and such a fine day."
     I thanked him and he left. A minute later he returned. "Could I have a name?" he asks. I told him my name, then asked, "Could I have a price?"
     He shrugged. "Oh, twenty five, thirty, whatever you can take."
     I still don't know how much I'm paying, but it won't be a lot.

Sunday, 26 August 2001
Killarney

8:07 AM
     I slept poorly last night and woke earlier than I had planned.
     I walked into town last evening a bit after 6 o'clock. It was a lovely evening for a walk and a lot of other people were out as well. Unlike me, and quite unusual for the Irish, they all seemed in a bit of a rush. Nearer to town, there was a whole stream of people heading in one direction, so I followed.
They were, of course, going to The Game. The All-Ireland U21 Hurling Semi-Finals between Galway (Gaillimh) and Limerick (Luimneach).
     I let the crowd lead me to the stadium, paid my £5 entrance fee and made my way into the stands. Now I know why we refer to the stadium seating area as "the stands." It's not a misnomer; the stands here are a series of concrete steps where spectators stand to watch the game. I guess we Americans are a lazy lot and decided to put in seats.
     The game was extremely interesting. It started off with a national anthem (at least I assume it was—I couldn't understand the words) and then the crowd began to roar and wave team flags and beat drums. It was all very exciting.
     The game itself was a tad confusing, appearing to be a cross-mix of lacrosse, baseball, American football, European football and a barroom brawl. I watched in total amazement and confusion until I felt I'd gotten my five quid's worth, then I went into town.
     It was practically deserted as everyone was at the game. I had a leisurely dinner of fish and chips, then wandered about for a while. Eventually, the game ended and a flood of people—happy at the Limerick victory—overtook the sleepy town. I managed to elbow my way into a pub, ordered a Guinness and just watched.
     Once again, for all the distance I am away from my home, I might as well have been in New York. The pub was virtually identical to the pubs I go to back home, the people dressed the same, acted the same and the buzz of conversation sounded no different. It was only when someone stood close enough for me to hear their accent that I could convince myself I wasn't at home.
     The only other difference was what was on the telly. It appeared to be a combination of soccer, American football and a free for all. Upon closer inspection I realized it must be a rugby match. But that was soon replaced by the WWF—a thoroughly American vulgarity—and once again it was impossible to know I was in Ireland.
     Even the music was the same as back home.
     About 10 o'clock I hired a cab and returned to my room.
     It's 8:35 now, time to locate some breakfast and plan my next move. I still have hopes of finding a nice, quiet, authentic Irish pub. Last night wasn't really a reflection on Ennis—I don't believe there was a quiet pub to be found for some distance around after The Game.

1:54 PM - Last Stop
     Driving in Ireland has been an experience. Not only do they drive on the wrong side of the road, but the cars are different and their driving patterns are confusing. Still, that above all, has impressed upon me that I am, indeed, in Ireland.
     It took me over three hours to get from Ennis to Killarney and I had to stop repeatedly and ask for directions. Even that didn't keep me from getting lost. At one point, I saw I was driving near a big lake, so I stopped and tried to locate myself on the map. I couldn't find any lake in the area I thought I was in so I buttonholed a local and asked where I was. My 'lake' turned out to be the Atlantic Ocean.
     I pressed on, and on, and on. At last I lucked out by picking up a hitchhiker (an innocuous looking young man) who happened to be going to Killarney himself. Not only that, but he was meeting his girlfriend at a nice, reasonably priced hotel (with a parking lot) and was only too glad to guide me to it.
It's the Killarney Court Hotel and it is very nice and modern even by US standards. The price was only £65 a night, including breakfast, so I booked for tonight and Monday. After that, I'll be heading home.
     The hitchhiker gave me some tips on where to go and what to do and, most helpful of all, answered some questions about the car. All day yesterday I kept trying to figure out how to roll the windows down in the front. In back, the doors have manual cranks but up front there is nothing—no crank, no buttons on the door, nothing. I couldn't imagine a car with windows that wouldn't go down but since this is Ireland I thought that must be the case, for some odd reason.
     "So what's with these cars?" I asked the hitchhiker. "How come you can't roll the windows down in the front?
     In answer, he pushed a button on the dashboard and my window went down. The dashboard! Who'd a thunk?
     The drive was long but peaceful and pretty. There are some really rugged mountains down here and the scenery is just a bit different.

8:24 PM - Homesick
     I find I'm getting rather homesick here, wandering about all by myself. Then I ended up having dinner in a romantic little restaurant. I didn't mean to; the sign said "Restaurant" and I went in and by the time I realized what sort of place it was I figured I might as well stay and eat. The food was superb but looking at the empty seat across from me made me feel strangely alone.

10:36 PM
      The previous entry was written in what I thought would be a nice quiet pub where I could be all maudlin and lonely, but then the patrons (all native Irish, no tourists) began singing Irish folk songs and I couldn't resist joining in.
     The songs were not group songs, people sang solo. I'm proud to say I held my own; they were surprised to discover I was an American.
     So I had fun tonight, the sort of fun I've been looking for since I came to Ireland.
     It's time for bed now. I want to get up early to do the Ring of Kerry. One more night here and I can go home.

Monday, 27 August 2001
The Ring of Kerry

4:30 PM
     I slept until nearly 8 AM, which is frightfully late for someone like me.
     The day dawned clear and blue and warm, perfect for the Ring of Kerry. An American I saw last night (not a tourist, an ex-patriot) told me to take my own car and not do the bus as it would be much more enjoyable. The Ring of Kerry was absolutely amazing. On the other hand, there is so much stunning beauty in this country it is almost clichι. To see one set of emerald, rolling hills is pretty much the same as seeing the next. I'm glad I'm leaving tomorrow. I don't think I could take one more quaint village or breath-taking vista.
     Even though the Ring of Kerry is well traveled and well marked (by Irish standards) I still managed to get lost repeatedly. I'd love to blame it on Irish roads and the lack of proper route markings, but the truth is, I get lost in America just as easily.
     Eventually, I picked up a hitchhiker who, fortuitously enough, was on his way to Killarney. He was a student from Slovenia named Mattι and he not only knew the route around the ring and back into Killarney but he knew the best lookout stops as well.
     The American ex-patriot did not steer me wrong. Despite getting lost, taking my own car was a lot better than a bus tour. I got to drive at my own pace, stop when and where I wanted and, best of all, had access to the smaller (and often better) overlooks the buses cannot pull into.
Driving is still tricky but I'm getting the hang of it. Driving the standard makes my leg act up something awful, however.
     Once back in Killarney, I took my new friend Mattι out to lunch to thank him for being my guide. We had some good conversation and then I went wandering again.
     It has suddenly occurred to me that, of all the photos I've taken, I don't yet have one of me enjoying a pint in an authentic, Irish pub. So when I go back into town after dinner I'll bring my camera with me and see if I can convince a waiter or bartender or patron to snap a piccy or two of me in a pub. After that, I think my trip to Ireland will be complete.

11:30 PM - Capping off my trip
     I returned to the same pub I had visited last night, not because I expected anything like last night, but simply because I had had a good time there and thought it would be the most appropriate place to have my photo taken in.
     The place (O'Connor's Pub) was nearly deserted when I got there but soon began to fill up. Unlike the previous night, the patrons were mostly tourists. Lots of Americans—which made me homesick—and Brits, as well as Germans and even some Japanese.
     Then I saw some musicians arrive—a grizzled old woman with a banjo and a guitar and an equally grizzled old man with an accordion. They played well, however, and the crowd (and it was quite a crowd for such a tiny pub) really got into it. They played authentic Irish songs and when they did a song I knew from dance class I got up and did a Reel. I was amazed at how much a few pints of Guinness and two weeks without practice took the edge off my steps. It was not a stellar performance but the crowd still loved it.
     One of the other bar maids who had been there the night before recognized me and asked if I would sing a song, so I did. The crowd really liked that and I returned to my seat satisfied that my trip to Ireland was, at last, complete.
     The couple sitting next to me was from Philadelphia, so we chatted and bit and they took my photo for me. Later, a couple from London sat down and we talked until closing, which was ungodly early.
The walk home was silent and peaceful and allowed me to reflect on my time in Ireland—all the wonderful places and people and the memories I would take home with me. I guess, after all, it has been a life-changing experience.

Tuesday, 28 August 2001
Leaving Ireland

12:04 PM
     I, and the car, arrived safely at Shannon airport. The drive up from Killarney was very lovely. The weather is, once again, perfect and the views so stunning in the morning light I was unable to resist the urge to take more snaps.
     Although the road to Limerick and on to Shannon airport is so well marked even I couldn't get lost, I still picked up a hitchhiker simply for the company. His name was Liam, and he was an older Irish gentleman. He talked non-stop all the way to Limerick; telling me all about the towns we were passing though and about how the road system has improved so much over the past few years.
     "Five year ago ye would'na have this good a road here. It would be very narrow and the going slower."
     "And here, see that!" he said, excitedly pointing to a bridge. "That there carry over, it's actually got a road on it. There's a road up there, maybe going to Kerry or someplace. It's a Godsend, I tell ya!"
     As we passed through Adare, he proudly told me how President Clinton had stayed there. He remarked on nearly every building as we passed it and repeatedly told me of the section ahead of us where detached houses were located. I knew most of the Irish homes in towns were small and close together, but I couldn't think that detached housing should be that unusual.
     "There! There!" he said, pointing. "All detached houses! Look at them!"
     I looked, and saw a neat row of tidy, ancient Irish homes—all with thatched roofs. Apparently, he had been saying "the thatched" houses.
     In Limerick, he continued his travelogue.
     ". . . and that there is the Holy Redeemer Church," he said, genuflecting as we passed by.
     He put me on the Shannon Road and I let him off, continuing my journey alone.

     I'm currently sitting in the Shannon airport. I've got an hour and a half until my flight. I suppose I might have done something this morning to fill the time but I find I'm tired of Ireland and happy to be on my way home.
     I changed in my pound notes for American dollars. It was actually strange to see and feel the now unfamiliar green bills. I saved out a fiver to buy a pint to pass the time. I'll have a nice, leisurely pint here and by then it will be time to hit customs and begin boarding.
     I hope I don't get caught up in customs. They are keen to know what I've bought and where I've been walking. I'm not sure what to tell them. All the gifts I bought for my friends and family can't be more than $200-$250. But the paper says to provide a description and receipt for EACH item. That's nuts! I don't even remember everything I bought or how much it cost or where the receipt might be. I'll probably end up in jail.
     As for where I've been, I know I've been to places they would be interested in—farmland specifically. I have this vision of them pulling me out of line (or the Queue) and hosing me down with disinfectant.
I've also been told the bags I checked here will NOT go on to Albany. I have to fetch them in Boston and go through customs again. It's going to be a long day.


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