the Ireland Trip: Days 3-4

Thursday, 15/6
Rise after the sun, since sunrise here is around 4:30am...even though it didn't set til after 10pm. And of course, I stayed up too late reading. We stopped in Wicklow City at the Post Office to mail post cards to the little girls, adn then waited for an internet cafe to open so I could look up those danged country codes while Tomi checked into the ferries to the Aran Islands. On the coast road by 11, heading for Doolin adn the Cliffs of Moher! No matter that we had to call four B&Bs to find a place to sleep that night...
The drive was beautiful across the whole of mid-southern Ireland. Tipperary and Clare Counties are my kind of land, rolling with hills big and small, trees and pasture. We came back to cows and horses from the sheep of Wicklow. The dreary morning, and on-off rain cleared by late afternoon again. Sort of tropical in nature. We paused briefly on the coast road to look out over the Irish channel at the wind power being harnessed on the ocean. We picnic'd in ClonRoche at a gas station for lunch, and set out again for the Cliffs. No getting lost or turning around by day 3!
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And after 6 hours, we reached the Cliffs of Moher, hungry and stiff, but excited. The wind whipped and buffeted, carressed and brushed us in turns. We ran up one side adn beheld the tumultuous Atlantic beneath the Cliffs, and the century-old castle. Then, more staid, we tread back down the long line of steps and up the other side. Tomi was aghast that other tourists were jumping the fence and making their own track along the cliff's edge, in spite of the warnings: trespassing, pirvate property, danger, this memorial to all who have perished... We then saw the gift shop adn headed to Doolin, where we found our room and showered, wandered down the lane for a pub dinner and had a Guiness together. Do you have any idea how many people told us to have a Guiness as it was mighty tasty...?
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Joking, we hit the pub across the street on our way back to the B&B and each had one more drink. Tomi was aghast at the possibility of talking to strange, even if cute, Irish boys. We finished the night with a plan to visit the Aran Islands on the morrow, followed by the Burren on Saturday. I also swore to sleep in on Saturday, sunrise early or not!

Friday, 19/6
argh. Sunrise by 5am, donzing til 8, breakfast at 8:30. YAWN. Picked up a book by Rita Dowling on Celtic Spirituality while we were waiting for our breakfast that reminded my of several others I've read on various spiritualities -- 4 Agreements, the God in All Living Things - I have to remember to order it still. It was overcast and windy again, of course, but the forecast said it was supposed to warm up... as it had every other day by afternoon. We headed to Doolin Bay, where we had booked rides on the Jack B through Doolin2Aran Ferry. Getting out of the bay was the only fun part of the ride to the island. Just about the time I'd convinced myself not to be seasick, Tomi hurled her breakfast over the aft. ugh. Almost 2 hours later we stumbled onto the blessed dry land where we were bombarded by bike rentalmen -- "Here's a map of the isalnd, come get a bike!" "We've got teh best prives; take this map" "Only 5Euros, we're at the back when you're ready." Once we had extricated ourselves from that, we promptly found a toilet - pee, wash salt spray and vomit from face and hands, clean glasses. Yes, being able to see and move without stiffness and clouds is a good thing!
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We headed up a hill and found the Sweater Museum, where Tomi found a beautiful woolen beige sweater and I got Ramah a pair of orange wool socks. A bit of exploring, and we stumbled into a tourist shop/internet cafe, where the proprietor gave us directions to an old fort -- less travelled and nearer than Dun Aunghus. We hiked down the road to the murky duckpond, then up, up, winding up, across the rocky countryside to the Black Fort and the flat rocked cliffs of Western InisMor -- which were much better than the highly travelled Cliffs of Moher, I should add. We had a picnic there on the cliffs, and then cut cross the cliff edge to the Black Fort, where we sat and enjoyed the promised sunshine before hiking back down to the tourist shop to reconnoiter with our direction-giver (the only Irishman who gave us accurate directions, I have to say).
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We talked about the wildlife, and about the use of stone in Ireland/InisMor vs. wooden houses, school and jobs...he was friendly and we had a good conversation. We managed to miss his name, somehow. Then, we loaded back onto the ferry and bid the sweet land farewell again. Thankfully, the ride back was much calmer, and though Tomi tried to sleep away her nausea, we had no more outright seasickness.
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Ahhhh, hot shower and clean clothes... We went to the second pub for dinner - McDermott's instead of back to McGann's - and had a delicious dinner. Then, we went up to the bar, where a group of Irishmen were laughing and playing with each other. We joked about them as we sat nearby, until we were welcomed into their circle of hilarity -- Morris, first, and then his brother, Colum, then Ken (who's stag party it was) and his brother Pete, Andrew and Andrew, and Stewart, and Ronan...and others who have been forgotten after all the drinks and laughter adn invitations to return the next day to watch the Lion's rugby game. It was a good end to a good day. And Saturday was my promised day for sleeping in!!!