Day 8: Lovely Dingle Town

I awoke my first morning in Dingle to Amber giggling and pointing excitedly out the hotel room window. 

"COWS!" she exclaimed, and she wasn't kidding! 

The empty field outside our room was now filled with giant, grazing cows. Cows, right there, five feet away, next door to the swanky Dingle Spa Hotel--you seriously cannot escape the cows and sheep in Ireland, no matter where you go! (Not that we were trying to!)

Amber gave me the daily shower report (she always went first, so she warned me of the varying water pressure and temperature, faucet placement, and any other important tips to not scald myself), and then we found the group at breakfast. 

We had a couple hours to explore the town before our group outing, so Linda, Amber and I ambled off, past the field of cows, and toward town. My knee was feeling better, but still not great. I walked slowly, and as we passed a doctor's office, I noted the location--I was pretty sure I'd be visiting the good doctor later that afternoon.

Linda, Amber and I laughed our way through town. Amber and I took photos of the adorable streets and buildings (so many colors!) while Linda purchased a new rain coat. (Her inexpensive plastic poncho proved no match for the pounding Irish rain and wind.)

We were delighted to find the second Murphy's ice cream shop, and immediately ran inside for samples.

"What are you gonna get?" I asked Linda, who was more interested in the servers (apparently, when they'd visited last night, the servers were all cute guys!). Linda spotted the cutie who helped her the night before, and in no time at all, he was scooping out tastes of all the different flavors.

"Are you guys really getting ice cream now?" Amber asked. "It's only 10 am!" 

Linda and I turned and looked at her, confused. It was Murphy's! We didn't care what time it was--it's ALWAYS time for ice cream!

"Heck yeah, we are!" I said. "What are you gonna get?" 

Amber decided to wait until after lunch, while Linda and I immediately ordered chocolate Mingles. (I don't even remember what it was, except there was chocolate everything--chocolate ice cream, chocolate bits, chocolate syrup, maybe? It was a mouthful of chocolatey goodness!)

Linda chided the cute server, who was leaning against the wall in the background.

"Maybe instead of just standing around there, you could help us," she said.

"I'm not even working today," he answered. "I just stopped in to say hi." 

But nobody says no to Linda, and soon enough, he was scooping up her ice cream.

Our next stop was the grocery store, where we hit up the ATM (which proved infinitely confusing) and purchased sandwiches for later on. We loved the cute displays of cookies, sweet breads, and produce.

After a couple more shops, we headed back to the hotel, where I met up with Mother Mary. She had a gift for me.

"Put this on your knee," she said, handing me a big tube. "Hold on to it today, and keep putting it on."

I gladly accepted the ointment, and rubbed it on my knee. My knee was killing me, and I didn't think a simple medicine would help, but I was willing to try anything.

The thought of climbing up and down the stairs into the Land Rover made me wince, so I claimed the front passenger seat, gladly accepting the task of co-pilot.  

Bébhinn drove us just outside of town, maybe 15 minutes, for our first stop--horseback riding! Amid much laughter, about half the group saddled up, and trotted off into the hills.

Bébhinn took the other half of the group for a walk. Neither sounded great for my knee, so I pulled up a seat on the stoop next to a very handsome father (wow, Irish men are good-looking!) and his adorable little girl, who waved to his wife and older daughter riding with our group. 

We had a really great conversation--he told me all about Ireland and growing up Irish. He asked about my trip, and when I raved about the food, he laughed and said, "That's new." Apparently, Ireland has not always been known for its good food.

He asked how we were enjoying Ireland, which I love. People were always genuinely interested in where we'd been or where we were going, and what we'd enjoyed seeing. A lot of times, they told us we'd seen more of their country than they had! I asked Bébhinn about this later, because it seemed so interesting that Ireland was such a small country, and yet, her own people didn't travel around much.

We talked about Dublin, where he worked, as the director of the National Art Gallery. I gulped a little when he said that, because that was probably the one place in Dublin we HADN'T seen.

I admitted this, and feeling guilty, told him of the places we HAD visited--the Guinness Storehouse and Old Jameson Distillery. 

"We also saw the gaol and the Books of Kells," I added, but he was nice enough not to point out our obvious failure of skipping the art museum. He did know quite a bit about the Book of Kells, though, which was really interesting.

Bébhinn returned, without the walking group. She said they'd taken a short walk to the beach, and we'd pick them up later in the Land Rover.

Our group returned, and dismounted, and we loaded back into the Land Rover. We drove a long, windy path down to the main road at the beach. I'd been feeling a a pang of regret--maybe I should've walked to the beach, too--but when I saw how far they'd actually walked (dodging horse poop the whole time, Amber told me later), I was glad I didn't.

Our next stop was a hillside farm, to see a sheep-herding demo. We walked up a steep hill to get to the demo up top, but the fenced-in fields on either side were filled with adorable, fuzzy animals. 

"Be careful!" Nate warned us. "Donkey bites HURT!" 

That was enough to keep my hands away from the fence.

Poor Bébhinn kept pushing us to keep on, saying that Gabriel the sheep farmer was waiting for us, but we wouldn't leave the cute animals. We didn't need to see a sheep herding demo, we were a sheep herding demo, as Bébhinn followed behind us, herding our group ever closer toward Gabriel.

Bébhinn had warned us that Gabriel was quite a character, and she wasn't kidding. He was hilarious, yelling at his crazy dog, Captain, and telling us how sheep farmers don't make much money, except for demo days like today, and that it was gonna be a good night down at the pub. 

Captain the dog was not the main shepherd today, because Gabriel said he's mad and scares the sheep. So poor Captain sat on the sides, trembling with excitement, and occasionally sneaking over to help out the other dog herding the sheep. 

The other dog was a creeper, running short distances in the field, and then falling to the ground to creep up on the sheep. The sheep, however, were not into the demo--they just wanted to graze and be left alone. 

The creeper dog eventually corralled the sheep and we all cheered. The dogs and sheep weren't all that cooperative, but Gabriel was fun to watch. 

Bébhinn led us over to a stone house and some beehive huts. She showed how farmers lived back in the day, and honestly, it looked a little rough. There were dirt floors and high hay lofts that doubled as bedrooms, and a hearth where all the meals were cooked. There was also a super creepy little girl doll with scary eyes and a menacing smile staring down at us from the loft, and she freaked us all out so much, we quickly moved on to the next room.

We explored the stone beehive huts, which Bébhinn said were similar to the huts on Skellig Michael (which we could see out in the ocean). The view from the top of the farm was amazing, but I could see it'd be a tough life being a farmer here during the long, cold winters. 

We stopped again to pet the horses and donkeys on the way down, much to Bébhinn's frustration. (She was always trying to keep us semi-on track, which never really worked). Everyone was totally loving the animals, most of all Ashley, until the donkey swung its head wildly at her, and tried to bite her (that donkey was a jerk!). 

Bébhinn finally got us all loaded back into the Vagatron, and back on to the Slea Head Drive. We drove around the peninsula on yet another skinny, winding road--and I'm not kidding! Here are the cars ahead of us on the TWO-WAY ROAD!! (And yes, we did have cars come toward us!)

Bébhinn did say that most tour buses agree to go the same way on the road, so as not to collide into each other, but clearly, the cars do not follow the same rule. Luckily, because of the rule of big (we were bigger than they were), most of them pulled over and gave way to us.

Slea Head Drive was beautiful. It curved around the cliffs, and gave us tremendous views of the Skellig Islands, the Blasket Islands, and the sleeping giant island, believed to be Finn McCool (so horses can't walk on water in Ireland, but giants can sleep on it!).  

It was a bit chilly, but the sun was out and shining, and we could see for miles out to sea.

We stopped a couple times for pictures, and then Bébhinn pulled into a park with a path down to a gorgeous beach called Com Dhincol. We got out for a short picnic and a walk around, but the view was just so lovely that we sat around staring at it.

Some young boys smacked a ball around with giant sticks just in front of us. We tried to figure out what they were playing--hurling? Gaelic football?--and admired their skill. They batted the ball back and forth, which was admirable, as we surely would've sent that ball flying over the cliff.

"What are you playing?" we called out to the boys, who immediately stopped and turned toward us.

"Hurling," they answered. One boy held the stick out to us, offering it up. "Wanna give it a go?"

We declined, telling him we didn't want to lose the ball. But no sooner had we declined than big-kid Brian showed up, asking what they were playing. He accepted the hurling bat and joined in the game. We smiled, because of course Brian would play!

We were about halfway round the peninsula, so onward we went. We drove past more patchwork green fields, and sheep, and more beautiful ocean views. Then Bébhinn pulled over to the side of the road for our next hike, to the most westerly point in Ireland.

It was gorgeous--the grass here was a greenish- khaki, not as bright green as the other side of the road, but just as pretty. The heather bloomed everywhere, adding spots of color to break up the landscape, and a dirt path lead up to a huge wall of boulders. 

I'd been putting Mother Mary's Magic Cream on my knee all day, and by God, it was working! I don't know what was in that stuff, but no wonder she had her husband buy it in bulk in Australia--it really was making the pain go away. (Turns out walking helped, too--my knee was mostly sore after sitting in the car a while.)

I followed the group for a bit, until my knee finally stopped me. Then I stood there, pretending to enjoy the view, but sadly watching my group disappear beyond the rocks. 

They said it was beautiful up there, and Bébhinn snapped this awesome photo of them, with Finn McCool in the background.

I'm sad to have missed out, but the great thing about this group is that they described it all in detail, so much so that I kinda felt like I actually was with them up there!

Either way, I did have a nice time wandering around, enjoying the view and the silence. I hiked a little closer toward the edge and was surprised to see a sky-blue bay below. 

After that, it was a short drive back to Dingle. It felt nice to have a relaxing day after the past couple jam-packed days, and to not spend so long in the car. 

The young adults (Nate, Ben and Ashley) were going kayaking back in Dingle, so Bébhinn dropped the adults off at the hotel, then took the kayakers, me, and Amber back to town. We wished them well, and told them to find Fungi, the wild dolphin famous for swimming around the kayaks, fishing and tourist boats. (And they did find Fungi, who swam right up to them!)

Amber and I wandered around the bay, searching for Fungi with no luck. Sure was pretty though!

We were cracking ourselves up with our new tagline: Single in Dingle and ready to Mingle! We even had to stop a take a selfie of us on the prowl (wasn't much of a prowl, really!).

We ended up at a a pub for a little downtime, hoping to connect with some locals. Unfortunately, the main area by the bar was full, so we ordered a couple Tom Crean beers and found our own space in the next room.

We drank our beers, giggled, and shot silly photos. Brian and Margie walked past us, and we waved at them through the window. 

We hadn't done any souvenir shopping on our trip yet, so we ambled along the streets of Dingle, stopping in to the shops. Amber bought a beautiful Aran Islands sweater, and I got a shirt for Mark. Then our hunger got the best of us, so we switched our mission from shopping to eating.

Dingle is well-known for its live music and pubs--there are only 2,000 residents but 54 pubs! We found one right next door, called the Marina Inn.

The music hadn't started, which meant we were early enough to grab a seat. We'd hoped to sit next to some Irish people, but instead sat next to American tourists. It was a couple, and they seemed relieved to hear our accents, asking about our trip.

We asked about theirs as well, and it was interesting, to say the least! They were a new-ish couple, had only been dating a few months, and were here on their first trip. They were hiking across Ireland, from one B&B to the next, and though they looked to be in good shape, they weren't really prepared for how much walking they did. 

They told us how they'd hiked one day, and the boyfriend got "lost" after an argument. The girlfriend freaked out, calling the cops and other local rescue teams, who searched for him. He turned up as they were looking. Total time he was "lost"? One hour!! (Amber and I were convinced he just got mad and stalked off, and was never really lost at all.) They were a funny couple, for sure!

We ordered dinner, and it was our best yet! It was a little odd, but that was normal for Ireland. We were used to getting fries on the side of ALL dishes, no matter what you ordered, and a whole lot of rocket (arugula) salads. (Man, I was craving some good old-fashioned Romaine lettuce! I hate that weedy arugula!)

I ordered a chicken and mushroom pie, which had a creamy, red-wine sauce and was more gourmet than I expected (I thought it would be your usual gravy and chicken pot pie kinda thing). It was delicious! It came with fries on the side (kinda weird, but not unexpected), and a salad that was unexpected AND weird. It was iceberg lettuce, with a little bit of dressing and a giant glop of coleslaw in the middle of it. That's right, a salad salad. I didn't even bother with that!

The music came on just after dinner, one guy and his guitar. He was really good, singing a mix of Irish folk songs and other well-known but not necessarily Irish songs (he played John Denver! Seriously, we heard John Denver all over Ireland--who knew they loved him so much???).

Amber and I sang along, and ordered more beers so we could stay longer. The pub filled up, and we were glad to have seats in the crowded bar.

But then Amber had a craving--she hadn't had her daily dose of Murphy's ice cream! It was still light out, so we figured they were still open, but we were wrong. They'd just closed!

"They don't close till 10!" Amber cried, and I searched around for a clock. It was 10:30. And just now getting dusky. Dang it, that late light threw us off every night. And poor Amber missed out on her Murphy's ice cream. (Amber, next time we order ice cream at 10 am, you do it, too!)

Except for Ben and Nate wandering into our pub post-kayaking, we hadn't seen any of our fellow Vagabonders in a while. We walked around a bit, finally heading back to the hotel around 11 pm. And there was Ashley, heading back IN to town!

She was meeting up with Mary, Linda and George. Amber looked at me, pleading, but my knee, despite the magic cream, was done for the day. I told her to go ahead if she wanted to, but I was done. I saw the conflict in Amber's head, weighing the options, and she finally gave in and went back with me. I felt really bad, because I knew it was killing Amber to miss out on a night with the group, so I readily agreed when she said we had to at least go to the hotel pub.

Which we did. And of course, there was another live singer there, so we had a couple beers, listened to the music, and left only when they closed the place down an hour later. 

And the best part was, our walk home was so short--just a long hallway to our room! I still felt bad about Amber missing out on the party, but that only lasted until my head hit the pillow. (Sorry, Am!)

Day 7: Liscanoor to Dingle The Cliffs of Moher!

Today was another day I'd been looking forward to--we'd be walking the Cliffs of Moher! Our first real hike on our adventure tour, and I was thrilled!

After a quick breakfast, we climbed into the Land Rover for the Cliffs, a short 10 minute ride away. The weather was beautiful all morning, right until we stepped into the parking lot and it started raining on us! Not the best sign, for sure, but we joked and said better that it came now instead of on the cliffs. And sure enough, as soon as we drove away, the rain stopped.

The car ride over was loud--everyone was silly, giddy, to see the Cliffs. We saw our first Irish rainbow, which was exciting, and we saw a tiny bunny run across a field (Irish wildlife!).

"A hare!" Bébhinn cried, pointing at it, and we all oohed and ahhhed.

Bébhinn parked the Vagatron in a random lot, with a field of horses below, and a field of cows above us. 

She explained that we'd follow the trail to the visitor's center. She'd walk part way us, then go back for the the Vagatron drive it to the center to meet us there.

I really had no idea how long the trail was, or how far away the visitor's center was. I was just along for the ride.

We stepped away from the Vagatron, and suddenly, the rain started up again. Only this wasn't the gentle rain like before--this was thunderstorm, hard, piercing rain! And it came with wind, lots of wind, blasting us with cold air and more big, hard rain drops. The rain fell at us sideways, pelting our faces and instantly soaking our clothes.

We all kind of laughed--what an adventure we were on, in the Irish rain! But we only laughed a few minutes, because honestly, it was MISERABLE. If it rained like this at home, I'd stay inside--no way I'd be outside, let alone HIKING in this! 

But we hiked on, pushing our hoods from our faces, wiping the rain as quickly as it fell. But it never stopped falling. We stopped at a lone detached wall and hunkered down to get out of the rain for a few minutes, then started on again. 

Eventually, Bébhinn led us to sanctuary in a cow pasture. We stepped around the muck, and leaned down against a single block wall. It sheltered us a bit from the wind, though the rain kept falling. Cows stood staring at us, swishing their tails, and wondering what the heck we were doing.

It. Was. Awful. I'm not gonna lie to you, I was NOT having fun. I mean, I was up for an adventure, but this was more torture than adventure. I was having such a miserable time that I decided when Bébhinn turned back to go to the car, I was going with her. The hell with the Cliffs, all I wanted was to be dry and out of the rain.

But bless her hearty Irish heart, Bébhinn was tougher than us. She led us forward, toward the first set of styles, a small wooden staircase with two giant rock slab borders. People climb over them, but cows, sheep and horses can't, keeping them safely away from the cliff edges.

Brian, ever the gentleman, stood at the side, hand out, helping us over. I grabbed his hand, flung my leg up, and screamed--something in my knee popped! An electrical current of pain shot through my knee, and I quickly set my leg down on the other side.

"You okay?" Brian asked, and I totally lied, nodding yes to him. 

We walked on, up a muddy hill, over another style, and up a wet grass hill. 

Bébhinn pointed out a crumbling stone building, explaining it was one of the many Napoleonic towers we'd seen in the hills yesterday. (Napoleon once threatened to raid Ireland, so they built these lookouts all along the Irish coasts to watch for ships coming in to port.)

We explored the tower a bit, eventually re-grouping at the edge of the grass. We were finally, literally, on the edge, staring 700 feet down the Cliffs of Moher. It was exhilarating and scary.

Bébhinn gathered us up, and said it was time to take back the weather.

"Let's see your sun dance!" she called, reaching her arms out and lifting her head back. We all copied, and then the weirdest thing happened--it worked! The rain stopped falling, and I swear to God, the sun came out! The gray skies turned to bright blue, and the sun warmed us through and through.

"Whoa," I whispered. It was pretty crazy how quickly that worked!

And it was all we needed to change our mood. Now we were ready to hike, ready to walk through that brilliant green grass, toward the sun. 

Bébhinn left, and we moved forward. The group split into smaller groups--Nate and Ben took off, their long legs striding quickly out of sight. Ashley ran off too, running as close to the edge as she could, as her mom Mary followed behind. 

Bébhinn warned us to lay down if we wanted to go on the edge, because one puff of wind could send you flying over the edge.

George and Brian stopped to take photos, and Margie strolled along with Jan and Linda. Everyone went at their own pace.

I stopped at first to take a really good look over the Cliffs (but not nearly as close as Ben, Nate or Ashley--I've got a healthy fear of heights!). 

It was breathtaking--the drop was so steep! There were sea birds everywhere, diving from the cliffs, landing on the crevices. Waves crashed into the cliffs, sending giant sprays of water everywhere. Giant clouds floated in the blue sky, their shadows casting dark circles in the ocean. It was spectacular.

It was also cool because we could get so close to it. In America, there'd be a fence 15 feet from the edge, with warnings to keep away. There's be rangers, and video cameras, and another second wall to keep people out, and protect them. Here, there was a skinny, muddy trail to follow, and nothing to protect you but your common sense. (No, that would not help in the States!) There was nothing for safety except a fence--on the OTHER side of the path, not the cliff side, but the pasture-side, and it was to protect the cows and sheep!

Which made the walk even better--it gave us a sense of danger, and freedom. 

Amber and I took about a million pictures too, and stopped approximately every five minutes to scream, "I love this place! Look how beautiful it is here!" 

We felt like we were in a dream--was there really a place as gorgeous as this, and was it possible we were really WALKING IN IT RIGHT NOW? We were like giggly little schoolgirls, laughing and pointing at everything.

I was a little bit nervous, though--I'm not a fast walker, more of a stroller. I didn't want to be the last one to the end, and I didn't want the group to wait five hours for me to finish. I thought of the little hare we saw in the field, and I perked up.

"I'm going," I told Amber. "I'm like the tortoise--I'm slow but steady! I'm just gonna keep walking so I don't fall too far behind." 

It was a phenomenal walk. We cruised the tops of the Cliffs, never more than a couple feet from the edge. The trail was lined with adorable little wildflowers (lots of my floral namesake, heather!) and the occasional cow. There was no one else on the trial but us, and the silence was very calming.

Amber and I turned a corner and came to a thousand rocks scattered all over. Lots had been stacked into high, wobbly towers. It was surprising to see so many stones here all at once, when we'd only seen them one or two at a time along the rest of the path.

Nate and Ben sat on the edge of the cliff, legs casually swinging, tossing rocks into the air, and watching them sail down, eventually, into the water. They were totally chill, peaceful even, but they gave me an anxiety attack both as a mom and as someone with a wicked fear of heights. I'd felt a pang of guilt upon meeting 15-year-old Ben--maybe I should've brought Mark--but this image killed any remaining guilt. I'd have spent the entire hike yelling at Mark to move back from the edge!

Amber and I continued on. At one point, Amber turned around to say something, and I saw her eyes grow large. 

"Get a move on, Dinsdale," she told me. "That rain is coming back for us!"

I turned around, too, and saw what alarmed Amber--giant gray storm clouds dumping walls of rain into the ocean.

"Oh crud," I said, and stepped up my pace. The rain did hit us again, but just barely--nothing like the brutal storm at the beginning!

We kept on our beautiful walk, and suddenly, there was Ashley, bouncing up next to us. 

"Hi, girls!" she said. Mother Mary was close behind, with Margie, Linda and Jan.

"Where'd you guys come from?" I asked, confused. I hadn't seen anyone in 15 minutes--I thought thy were all far, far ahead of us.

"They're all back there," Ashley said, pointing toward Brian and George. I saw Nate and Ben, too, but only momentarily, as their long legs took them running right past us.

"Keep going, girls!" Ashley called, chasing after the boys. "We're almost there!"

I just started laughing. 

"We're winning!" I told Amber. "I thought we were the last ones, but we were in the lead the whole time! Just like the tortoise!" 

That totally cracked me up!

But we weren't done yet. We had to climb down a steep stone valley with a lakeful of water in it, and then back up the muddy path, which grew skinnier as we walked. 

As the visitor's center came in to view, more and more walkers jammed on to the the trail, and more people stood along the cliffs taking photos. We'd been all alone for the past 2 1/2 hours, and though it was a long hike, I was grateful we'd had that time to ourselves to really appreciate the scenic beauty.

George and Brian passed us, too, as did Jan, and I still came in last, but only by mere seconds, not hours, like I'd feared.

We finally got to the visitor's center, which we loved for two reasons: 1. It had bathrooms! 2. It was built into the hills, which made it look like part of the landscape. Very cool!

We found Bébhinn and most of the group already there, except for Linda and Brian.

"I think they went to explore that other castle," someone said, pointing up at a stone structure.

Margie looked mildly annoyed but not surprised. "Text your dad or Linda," she told the boys.

"We did," Nate and Ben answered in unison.

Bébhinn was pacing--she had to keep us (mostly) on schedule, and this was not helping.

"Those Shinners!" she cursed, jokingly. "When they come back, we should shun the Shinners!"

"Shun the Shinners!" we answered back. "Shun the Shinners!" 

"Not ALL the Shinners!" Margie interjected, and we all laughed. 

And when Brian and Linda showed up, that's exactly what we did. We all flipped our heads dramatically in the other direction (Bébhinn even gave them a loud, indignant  "HUMPH!") and walked off to the Vagatron. Then we dissolved into laughter and told them we were shunning the Shinners.

"But not ALL of them!" Margie reminded her.

It was such an awesome way to end the morning--what started out as the most miserable day in my life, but ended up being one of the best! It's amazing what a little sunshine and perspective can do.

We had a bit of a drive to lunch, so we buckled ourselves into the Land Rover and passed out snacks. Bébhinn drove us past a beach that held the record for most surfers on a wave in a photo (50ish?) and through the tiny town of Lahinch, which Brian incorporated into a Beach Boys song. She told us of a great storm last year that almost decimated the town with 30-foot waves, which made us a bit silent and reflective about that. Bébhinn felt bad about bringing us down, so Brian chimed in again with his Lahinch Beach Boys song, and soon enough, we were all laughing again.

As we drove on, someone asked about the Great Famine, and Bébhinn gave us another lesson. This was also sad--she told of the barren land that barely grew any food at all, save for root vegetables like potatoes and carrots, but grew enough to feed the folks if the English hadn't shipped all the food out of Ireland. She told us of the potato blight that decimated the crops, of the 1 million people that died, and the 1 million people that left Ireland, and how the population never recovered. the evil landlords and how they took advantage of their tenant farmers. She told of the mass exodus to America, and how the new American immigrants sent money back to the family farms. 

Again, it was all terribly sad, but really important to hear. It made me respect the hearty Irish people, their resourcefulness, and how they lived in a land that didn't give them an inch, not when it came to food, resources or even weather. I thought of the families struggling, of young men moving away across the world. And I thought of the pub from last night, and the mournful songs that seemed to hit home with all the patrons singing along. It IS sad, the Irish history, but it's also inspiring. Irish people got nothing easy, and they struggle for everything they do have, and yet...you've never met such a happy, friendly people. 

It was a lot to take in as the green fields and beaches flew by us through the car windows. It was even more heartbreaking for the families in the car of Irish descent, as they realized why and how their own families ended up in America. 

"Oh, I've done it again," Bébhinn fretted. "I brought everybody down again."

We assured her it was okay; quiet isn't always bad, and we came here to learn about Ireland, too, not just play.

We stopped for a quick lunch by the beach, and then it was back on the road. Bébhinn turned on some Irish tunes for us. The music filled the air, and as we passed by more fields of sheep, rolling hills, and stone fences, I smiled. It was all just so perfect, almost like I was in a movie, with the Irish songs and sights passing in front of my eyes. I could feel Ireland creeping in to my soul, and I knew then it would always be part of me. 

After a bit, we landed at the river Shannon, and on a ferry. Bébhinn let us out of the car, but the minute she opened the door, it started to rain on us! It was a short rain, though, only lasting about 30 minutes--the time it took us to cross the river! 

On the other side of the Shannon, we drove on, past the Kerry butter and cheese factory, and through tiny villages with even tinier streets and bright, colorful buildings. We loved those towns, and it seemed almost mean that Bébhinn crawled through them at a snail's pace but wouldn't stop. She did offer to stop briefly for the restroom, and then thought better of it--once you let this group out of the car, it was like herding cats to get them back in!

"It's not that far to Dingle," she reasoned, and we were fine with it.

Margie and Brian taught us a game, where you had to say a letter that could spell a word without completing the word. Everybody got really in to it, and it made me love the Shinners even more, because they always a game to play or a way to pass the time. And I was really loving our little group, how close we'd all become in such a short amount of time.

We drove through the adorable towns of Listowel, and Tralee, home of the annual Rose of Tralee pageant. It's kind of like a beauty pageant/talent competition for Irish girls, or girls of Irish descent, and every year it turns the sleepy little town into a boom town. The pageant was next week, and the streets were adorned with banners, posters and signs that lit up at night, all welcoming the contestants.

And then we were climbing a mountain! After a quick turn out of Tralee, we passed Brandon Mountain, Ireland's second highest peak. (I love that about Ireland! Everything is celebrated, even if it's only the second highest, or the fourth most...) We drove up the Conor Pass, a tiny, windy road about four feet wide--and it's a TWO-WAY ROAD!! I am not even kidding you! 

We got stuck behind a van running interference for a biking tour (and actually giving a lift to one tired biker). I love this shot of the biker, the van, and the unimpressed sheep on the roadside.

The van finally pulled as far off to the side as it could, allowing us to pass (thankfully, no one was coming down the road.) With the van out of the way, we could focus on the spectacular view of the valley below us.

And we could see the road ahead. 

Bébhinn pulled over near a waterfall and announced the second hike of the day. I stood to get out of the car, and my knee announced I was not hiking anywhere at all. (It was fine while I was moving, but swelled up from all the sitting afterwards.)

I contented myself with checking out the waterfall. 

And to be honest, even if my knee was not hurt, I doubt I'd have done the hike. Because 1. Of course it started raining the minute we got out of the car, and 2. Look at this "hike"! It was UP A ROCKY MOUNTAIN! A mountain SLICK WITH RAIN! How many times was I gonna take my klutzy chances? I'd already survived the Cliffs of Moher without falling, so I ended my hikes for the day on a positive note.

And I wasn't alone. Most of the ladies in our group  hid in the car from the rain, while Bébhinn took the guys and Ashley up the rocky mountainside. Nate and Ben raved about it, and how they could see a hidden lake from the top.

And then it was time for our last stop of the day, Dingle Town. We had to clear the Conor Pass, and then we were just minutes away from Dingle. 

Um, did I mention that this was a TWO-WAY ROAD??? And do you notice the flimsy wood and wire "fence" in the photo above? That is the *safety barrier* for Conor Pass!

Bébhinn proved again what a skilled driver she is. She coaxed that Rover up the hill, and I tried (unsuccessfully) not to look over the side of the road. At one point, the road narrowed considerably, so much so that the car was scraping against shrubs growing out of the mountainside. On the other side, that flimsy little fence was all that held us from tumbling 800 feet down into valley, and the lake inside it. And just to add a little excitement, there were two cars also coming down the Conor Pass at that same moment.

It was more than I could take--I closed my eyes and put all my faith in Bébhinn. And she rocked it!!! The other cars stopped, pulled over as far as they could along the edge, and Bébhinn punched it, sending the Rover over the pass. 

I needed a drink by the time we reached the top!

But I got an even better reward--a view of the valley leading to Dingle!

Twenty minutes later, we were in Dingle, a town of 2000 people and 54 pubs. It was adorable, more bright shops and pubs, and boats galore. 

Bébhinn gave us an impromptu tour on the way to the hotel, pointing out the local hardware store/pub, the statue of Fungi the dolphin (Fungi loves to show off for the boats and kayakers!), and a few pubs with good music sessions. It looked like a super cute town, and we were excited to stay here for two consecutive nights. (The moving everyday thing was getting old quick.)

Then Bébhinn drove us out to our hotel. It wasn't far, maybe a 10 minute walk, but I almost cried when I saw how far it was from town. It actually wasn't far at all, maybe a mile, but my throbbing knee told me there was no way I'd make it to town and back on foot. And so the girl who hates to miss a night out on the town did, in fact, miss a night out on the town. :-(

We settled into our room, and as much as it killed me, I told Amber to have a good time. She went to dinner with the group, and I settled in with an ice bag, room service fish chowder with soda bread, and some really bad Irish TV reality shows. 

Amber said it was a very quiet dinner. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who got smacked down by the Cliffs of Moher! But it didn't matter--my knee hurt and I was exhausted, but I was also happy, deliriously happy, at all the amazing things I'd seen today. 

And even more so, I was content. Content because we were only two and a half days into this tour, and already, I was already so close to this group of people that it felt like we'd been roaming the Earth together in a Land Rover forever. 

Life was definitely good.