But we still had a full day's adventure left. And it included two castles...
We packed up the Land Rover one last time, and took another group photo by the lake. Then it was off for a final drive across the gorgeous Irish countryside...I sat by the window, staring out at the tiny, winding roads, the occasional colorful houses, the stone fences. At the lakes, and the rain falling gently on the glass. At the hills, the green grass, the fields divided like different color quilt patchwork. I took it all in, etching it into my memory forever. I thought about the past week, reliving the laughter and amazing sights. And I could tell by the unusually quiet car ride that I wasn't the I only one feeling that way.
Darren tried narrating again, but the microphone hadn't worked since Bébbin left, and we'd given up being polite about it. (We weren't rude, we just didn't pretend we could hear him anymore.) He finally gave up and just played music.
We made our first stop a couple hours later, at Blarney Castle, home of the word-famous Blarney Stone! I'd been debating the whole trip whether or not I'd kiss it--I'm a giant germaphobe, and kissing something a million other people have also kissed freaks me out. Also, I'm terrified of heights, and the Stone is four stories above the ground--you have to lay down on your back, lean over a three-foot gap, then tilt your head upside down to kiss it. Yes, there are a couple metal bars to keep you from falling, and a little old Irish man holding you, but neither of those things eased my mind.
But I'm getting ahead of myself...
Darren dropped us off by the castle. Our group wandered in, mesmerized by the giant flower baskets all around. All that rain and long summer sunshine really makes the flowers grow huge!
We walked along the path, and crossed over a footbridge, and then we saw something that made us all scream with delight--trees! Wearing SWEATERS!!!
I'm not sure why--were they protecting the trees from the cold or merely decorative? But they were so cute, and the thought of some little old Irish women knitting tree sweaters filled us with delight.
Amber immediately ran off to hug a sweatered tree, which cracked me up.
And then there it was--Blarney Castle! I couldn't believe it. It's one of those things you've heard about your whole life--it was not quite as cool as standing in front of the Parthenon in Greece, or the Sydney Opera House, but it was close!
We wandered around the castle grounds, eventually ending up just below the Stone. My anxiety grew with each step closer. Looking up at how high the stone really was (and the big gap between the wall and stone!) didn't help.
"Be brave!" I told myself. "Do it! Who knows when you'll ever be back?" I wrestled with my nerves half the time, and mentally kicked myself for being such a baby the other half.
But kissing or no kissing, I was determined to at least see the famous Stone! We climbed a tiny, narrow spiral stone staircase up to the fourth floor. It didn't look so bad when we emerged into the fresh air.
We moved ever closer. And then suddenly, my hiking buddy Jan dropped to the floor, kissed the rock and bounced back up!
"Go, Jan!" we yelled. "Woo hoo!"
Jan had the biggest smile on her face--and that sealed my decision.
"I'm gonna do it," I told Amber, handing her my bags. "I'm going in."
I dropped to the ground too, though not as gracefully as Jan. The little Irish man grabbed me by the jacket and told me to move back and tilt my head. I inched closer, closer, closer, my breathing coming faster with each movement.
"Do it!" I yelled in my head, and I took a final scoot toward the Stone. I tilted my head back, then upside down, and puckered up. I could do this! I AM GONNA KISS THAT DAMN STONE!
Until I couldn't. I got an eye full of the ground far, far below, and a vision of a bazillion other people kissing the same exact spot I was about to kiss. And I freaked out!
"I'm good!" I yelled, as the little man pushed me closer to the stone, totally confusing him. "I'm good, I'm done, I WANT UP NOW!"
He didn't even blink an eye, just tugged me back and yelled, "Next!" The next person in line headed toward me, but I was still freaking out and couldn't get up yet. I just rolled out of the way until I could pull myself together.
"I freaked out at the last second," I told Amber sadly, as I finally got up. (As if I needed to say anything!)
"Dammit, Dinsdale," she replied. "You were as close as you could possibly get without kissing it!"
Mother Mary, Ashley and Linda all chimed in with equally comforting statements, but I felt like a failure. (And I felt worse because I know how much Amber wanted to kiss it, but couldn't, because of her back.)
I got over it pretty quickly though, as soon as we saw the Shinners' lining up to kiss it. We saw Margie go in, and then King Brian dropped and popped back up with a giant grin. We cheered them all on, laughing at the funny scene.
We regrouped and clambered down the winding spiral staircase together. It was funny, at one point, we were all inside, then exited the staircase, spilling into the tiniest space possible.
"Group shot!" someone yelled, and we moved in together--it was like we couldn't bare to spend even one of our last remaining moments apart.
We stopped again by the sweatered tree row for another group shot, this time mimicking poses we'd seen Mark doing in the camp photos.
The castle grounds were beautiful but vast--we could've spent all day looking around. But Amber and I realized we'd put off all our souvenir shopping--we hadn't wanted to drag things around from Dublin, and we'd spent most of our time hiking in the hills during the tour. Which we'd totally loved, but now we realized we had nothing to bring home to our families!
So we headed into the village for a frenzied shopping trip and lunch, slowing down to admire a lone violinist playing by the river.
We grabbed up some souvenirs and a quick bite to eat in a busy cafe. The cafe was great, filled with warm lunches and beautiful desserts. We couldn't keep our eyes off these meringues--they were HUGE, almost as big as our heads!
We scarfed down our food at first, not wanting to miss Darren's 1 pm meet up time. But then Amber smartly reminded me that no one else would return on time, and even if they did, so what? We'd never once been late to the bus.
I smiled at my wise, rebellious friend, and slowly enjoyed the rest of my lunch. (And yes, the rest of the group WAS late!)
Our last tour stop was at the Rock of Cashel. We pulled off the highway (a genuine highway!) and into a town, and were disappointed to see the castle, most of which was covered in scaffolding.
There was no scaffolding on the back, though.
A castle tour had just left, and the next wasn't scheduled until our meet up time, so we decided to wander around on our own. However, when we stepped outside, we were met with hurricane-force winds!
It was seriously windy! Like, hair-flapping, jacket-rattling, whistling through the fields tornado winds. We could barely stand still, or even hear each other over the winds, which made for some pretty funny photos.
Behind the main castle was a cathedral, and an old graveyard with beautiful old rusted Celtic crosses. (I loved the zigzag wall in the background, too.)
I love the Irish graveyards--they are so serene, and peaceful, filled with roses and those gorgeous crosses.
And the views were spectacular, too. Here's the local monastery off in the distance.
After viewing the castle, we walked down the road, taking in the little town. We stopped in a gift shop, where Amber made Ben and Nate try on silly hats while we all laughed. As we stepped into the street to look for Darren, it began to rain on us--again--as it had every day for the last two weeks, and that was it for me.
"I am officially done with the rain," I told Amber. "I. AM. OVER. IT."
The rest of the group giggled, and asked what happened to the California Drought Girl who was so thrilled to see the rain on Day 1 (and even Days 2 and 3).
"I'm used to droughts, not all this blasted rain!" I said. "Enough, already, where's the SUNSHINE??"
We cracked up. Turns out a little rain is fun, but that was the day I realized I probably could not live in rainy Ireland for very long.
Back in the car, Darren passed out maps he'd gotten from the Irish tourist board in Blarney. Amber and Ben decided to map out our tour route, which was AWESOME. They worked diligently to get it done before our short ride back to Dublin. And they did it, passing around the maps so we could all sign them. It's my favorite keepsake of the whole trip.
As Darren pulled back into Dublin, we all freaked out--this was really it, the end of our time together. The end of the Craic Pack, and our magical trip. It was too much to take!
"Let's meet for dinner!" someone suggested, and the group latched onto that.
"Where?" someone asked, and we all shrugged, because no one was from around here.
"How about the Brazen Head?" Margie suggested, and I loved that idea. It's the oldest pub in Ireland, and one of the few spots we'd missed when we were there. (And just then I was SERIOUSLY glad we'd done our souvenir shopping in Blarney, since Amber and I had planned to do it when we returned to Dublin.)
We decided not a moment too soon...because the next thing we knew, Darren had pulled over on a busy Temple Bar street, saying this was me and Amber's stop. We panicked, because this was it, because it was a busy street which meant a quick goodbye, and because we had no idea where our hotel was. (We'd walked by it before during our Dublin stay, but couldn't visualize its location now.)
"Your hotel's down there," Darren pointed out in one last, unhelpful vague motion. "Go down the street and turn right."
And then he popped back into the Land Rover and drove off. This was our parting image--Linda waving out the window, calling to us, "Miss you already!!" It was the sweetest, saddest thing ever.
We followed Darren's directions, and ended up here, which was clearly not our hotel.
We walked down the street a bit further, but ended up on a busy street, the border of the Temple Bar district. I knew for certain our hotel was not past here, but I couldn't figure out exactly where it was.
"We need to ask a local," I told Amber, who agreed.
"But how do we know who's local?" she asked.
I looked around. Darren had mentioned some big sports match today--soccer? Irish football? I wasn't sure which, so I just looked for someone wearing a local jersey.
The man we stopped was gracious, and maybe had a beer or two already in him. He was feeling good, but more importantly, he was Irish, which meant he was the nicest guy ever, and would certainly help us. In typical Irish fashion, he didn't just point out the direction, he said, "Oh, I'm headed that way, I'll walk you there." And then, bless that man, he reached down to grab our bags and pull them for us!!
Amber and I wouldn't let him carry our bags (we were appreciate of his chivalry, we just didn't want to take advantage of him), but we did let him walk us to the hotel. Along the way, he asked how our trip was, and what we'd seen. We professed our love for his beautiful country, and told him of our adventures. He was amazed by how much we'd seen in the past two weeks, saying it was more than he'd seen himself, and we laughed again, wondering why the Irish never left their home towns and villages.
Eventually, we arrived at our hotel. Our new best friend pointed to it, then pulled us each in close, kissed us on our cheeks, and wished us safe travels. Honestly. You can't get any more friendly than THAT! (And that is the story I will share forever more when people ask me why I think Irish people are the nicest people EVER.)
Amber and I checked in to our hotel, which was nearly as busy as the street outside. There were gobs more people than at our first hotel--Temple Bar was really jumping! As I waited in the lobby, I saw this sign, and smiled really big.
"Amber," I nudged. "Look!"
I knew she'd love that sign. We were both madly in love with Ireland, its beautiful sights, and its lovely people, and that's exactly how we felt--like we did, indeed, want to marry Ireland!
We had about an hour before meeting up with the group, so Amber and I decided to re-pack our suitcases. We had a morning flight, leaving for the airport at 7 am, which meant getting up around 6 am. Neither of us wanted to forget anything or leave the preparations till then.
However, we vastly underestimated the time it would take us to walk to the Brazen Head. We figured about 15 minutes, but it was more like half an hour, even in the amazing physical condition we were in now (all those hikes and walking 10-12 miles a day made my legs STRONG!).
We walked in, looked around, and screamed excitedly like little girls when we saw the Shinners' (and screamed again that loudly when Mary, George and Ashley arrived later). You'd think we were long-lost friends who been separated for ages, not just for an hour. (It just felt weird, all of us checking in to different hotels.)
We enjoyed one last Irish fish fry dinner, which was fantastic. We laughed, reliving our trip, and enjoyed fresh Guinness'. It was a wonderful dinner.
Eventually, Nate had to go--he was meeting up with some college friends in town. We hugged him, and wished him well in his upcoming school year. We reminisced a little more, and then Margie and Ben stood to leave next. We hugged them, sad that our group was dwindling, and sadder still that the night was ending. Brian sent them home in a cab, saying he and Linda would stay for one more drink, and we knew we were down to our last few minutes together.
As Brian walked them out, a nearby guy asked if we were staying for the music. Amber and I looked at each other and figured why not? The nightly music in the pubs had been one of our favorite parts of the whole trip--it had been the whole group's favorite part. (Music lovers, one and all--no wonder we all got along so well!)
The big surprise was that the band was Irish, but the music was not. "We're the best Zydeco and American blues band in Dublin!" the man bragged, which cemented the deal--this we had to hear!
And those guys were AWESOME! They really did rock the Zydeco music, and they had those blues down.
Our beer was kicking in, and we were feeling good. Amber decided we needed another round, so she started for the bar, but halfway up, a guy grabbed her and started dancing. Amber immediately followed his lead, dancing and clapping, and completely forgot about the bar, our drinks, or anything else in that moment. I laughed, shook my head and told the group, "That's why I love Amber. You send her for drinks, and she gets distracted by dancing!" I'm pretty sure they all loved Amber for that, too.
Brian was sitting against the wall, and there were people on both sides next to him. He's a big guy, but he wasn't going to let us go thirsty. So he told George, on the other side of the table, to move back for a moment, and then he slid the table out onto the dance floor. He stood, walked onto the dance floor from behind the table, then slid the table back against the wall. We were cracking up at him! Brian knows how to take care of things, and waiting for 15 people to stand and move so he can get out is definitely not his style.
Brian headed for the bar and bought us a round. He delivered the first few drinks, but on the way back, Amber grabbed him and pulled her onto the dance floor. He joined willingly, and soon, all that was left at our table was the round of drinks! Mary, Ashley, Linda, George and I joined them on the dance floor, whooping it up and singing along with the band.
One drink turned into two, and I could tell Brian and Linda were in no hurry to leave. (Neither were Mary, Ashley, or George, but their family wasn't expecting them back at the hotel.) The band's first set ended, and I figured that was it, but nope--the Craic Pack kept on dancing!
The band returned for their second set, and we sang on. Some guy in the pub took over the microphone and explained that a well-known actress had died earlier in the day, and the pub patrons all seemed sad. The band played a song in tribute to her, Let It Be, and the guy grabbed us all and pulled us into a circle to commemorate her while he flashed her picture on his phone. We were excited to be part of the moment, but even more excited to sing about how in our hour of darkness, Mother Mary comes to me (we all grabbed Mary and screamed "Mother Mary!!!"). It was really fun.
So fun, in fact, that we stayed for the entire second set, too! The band thanked the pub, the pub cheered them on, and then the lights came on. It was 1:30 in the morning, and we were still going strong! We'd have stayed even longer except that the pub closed down, and it was out to the street for us.
And then this really was the last goodbye. We hugged each other again, and then again, and promised to write and visit each other. A cabbie waited to take us back to our hotel, and I told Amber to say goodbye quick and let's go, a prolonged goodbye would just make me sadder. But nobody rushes Amber, especially at goodbyes, and she wasn't ready to let go just yet.
So we hugged another ten, then 15 minutes. The cabbie was getting impatient, but we couldn't go until Amber was ready. And then, finally, sadly, she was. We said one last goodbye, laughed that Brian and Linda were in big trouble when they got back to the hotel so late.
Our crazy cab driver seemed determined to make up for the time he'd waited at the curb. He drove us through the streets at breakneck speed, cutting off more than one other driver. Luckily, we had a nice buzz, and just laughed at it.
We finally got back to our room around 2 am, and the place was still jumping! Apparently, Temple Bar parties all night. I don't think it ever got quiet in our room until about 4 am.
Six a.m. came far too early, and we felt a little bad when the alarm sounded. But we had a long flight home (two for me) to sleep, and I wouldn't have traded one minute of our last night together for more sleep.
And so that was it for us...it was a bank holiday morning, so the streets were quiet and empty. There were few cars out, and even fewer buses, so we cabbed it to the airport. I kinda felt like we were sneaking out after a great night, and it felt right. I was glad the city was still sleeping, because the vibrancy was what I loved, and would miss, and it would've been too hard to say goodbye if it was jumping like that.
So, goodbye, Ireland. Thanks for the hospitality, and the adventures. Thanks for the new friends and the good food. Thanks for the laughter and the memories, and don't worry, this isn't the last you'll see of us.
Of that, ye can be sure!
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