Day 10: Portmagee to Glengariff Skellig Michael Tries to Kill the Craic Pack

Our day in Portmagee started off in chaos. It was Bébhinn's last day with us, but our sadness about that was overshadowed with panic about the day's itinerary. 

Most of the group, save for me and Jan, were headed out to Skellig Michael, a UNESCO World Heritage site, and a craggy island previously home to monks. 

Amber is super brave, much braver than me, and she was going, but she was pretty nervous as we got ready in the room beforehand. She'd signed up for the trip before we even got to Ireland, under the condition that she'd only go if she felt safe with our group after meeting them. She didn't want to climb the stairs unless someone had her back;  thankfully, our Vagabonders proved they did. 

I immediately opted out when I read the description of the trip, which included these helpful tips:

• The boat ride over is very rough, bring pills if prone to seasickness. (Hello, me.)
• The trip is approximately six hours, and there are no amenities on the island, so bring food and water if you want to eat or drink anything. (No water?? Or food, after I've thrown up my breakfast on the boat?)
• There are no bathrooms on the island. (See above, six-hour trip!)
• If the ocean is rough, you may have to jump to the dock to disembark. (Because, yeah..I'm good at jumping from a rocking boat to a concrete dock in giant swells!)
• There are 600 stone steps to the top of the island. They are slippery when wet, steep, have no safety railings, and are very dangerous if it's windy. If you are out of shape or afraid of heights, don't attempt to climb the stairs. (Hi, have you met me? I literally trip over my own feet walking down an empty hallway, and I am TERRIFIED of heights. And let's not even talk about my shape...)
• People have died on Skellig Michael. (I'm out.)
• There is a puffin rookery on the island. (PUFFINS!!!)

That last point made me squeal and for a moment I thought about going and staying at the bottom of the island. But the boat ride, no bathrooms, and fear of heights ideas did me in (and my wonky knee once I got there didn't help), so I happily stayed behind.

(Also, I hesitated saying no because Skellig Michael is in the new Star Wars film, so it would be cool to say "I was there!" Every time you said "Skellig Michael," the Irish people told you about Star Wars. They are very proud!)

Skellig Michael is about an hour out to sea--a rough, unforgiving, swell-y sea--the trip is extremely weather-dependent, and it wasn't until breakfast they finally got the okay to go.  

That was the good news, which you'd think the Vagabonders would be happy about. Instead, they were nervous, anxious, barely able to eat breakfast. They'd all seemed so excited about going before, but not anymore.

As we gathered for breakfast, Brian approached Bébhinn for reassurance. He wanted to make sure the trip was safe, and that he wasn't gonna die.

"Yeah, it's good," Bébhinn told him. "There's the captain right there."

She pointed at an older man with a hunched back, white hair, and hearing aids. He was slowly ambling toward the coffee dispenser.

"THAT'S the captain?" Brian said, immediately breaking into a sweat. "He's 90 years old!" 

Bébhinn walked away, leaving Brian in a panic.

We all convened at the table. 

"I don't know what to eat," Amber said, worrying over the menu. She was supposed to eat enough to fuel herself or six hours, but not too much, in case of seasickness. 

While everyone worried over what to eat, Margie quietly soothed Brian, trying to allay his fears, while Nate ribbed a sleepy Ben, and Mary handed over Bonine to Ashley, who downed them.

About 15 minutes later, Ashley asked if the Bonine had a particular ingredient in it. Mary said no, knowing that Ashley is highly allergic to that ingredient. 

"What happened when you took it last time?" I asked.

"I passed out for two hours," Ashley said. "I ended up at the hospital, but they just thought I was drunk."

"Oh God!" I said. Climbing the stairs up Skellig Michael was NOT the place to pass out!

"Oh God!" Mary repeated, carefully reading the Bonine container. "It's in here!"

"I knew it," Ashley said. "I feel really weird." She took a bite of her breakfast, then said under her breath, "I'm still going."

"Can I have one of those?" Brian asked. Mary handed it over, then he asked if he could borrow my motion sickness bracelets as extra insurance. I handed them over as well.

Suddenly, Ashley got up and ran out of the room. 

"Oh my God!" Mary fretted. "I killed my daughter!" 

Poor Bébhinn watched the madness all around, unsure of what exactly was happening or what to do. She looked at Mary.

"I gave her a seasickness pill," Mary explained. "But she's allergic to one of the ingredients. I can't believe I didn't look! My poor baby! I've killed her! I'm a terrible mother!"

Which confused Bébhinn even more. 

"She took a pill?" asked Bébhinn, who grew up on island, and shuttled across the ocean to school every day. "To go on the sea?" 

Clearly, Bébhinn felt she was missing something here...

I wandered outside, where I found Brian pacing back and forth along the dock. 

"Where's the car?" he asked. "Do we have to drive far to the boat?"

"The boat's right there in the harbor," I said, pointing down the dock. "You're not driving anywhere."

I meant to be calm and reassuring, but actually had the opposite effect on Brian. 

"Those tiny little boats?" he said. "I thought it was a big boat! I thought we'd drive out to the boat, look at the ocean, and I could decide then if I wanted to go. I can't even see the ocean from here!" He took off in a full panic. 

I turned to see Ashley nearby, taking big gulps of air. 

"How are you doing?" I asked her, and she shook her head.

"My eyes are getting big, and then they're getting little," she said opening them wide and then narrowing them down. "I feel pretty dizzy."

"Your pupils are dilating?" I asked, panicking a bit myself. There are no emergency services out on Skellig Michael, no doctors or even any buildings at all.

"I'm fine," she said stumbling away from me. "I'm still going."

Linda walked up to me, totally oblivious to all the drama going on. 

"Everybody is freaking out right now," I told her. "You okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm great," she answered. "Not worried at all. If I die, tell them to bury me holding a Skellig Michael brochure in my hands. That'll be my last little joke!" We both cracked up at that.

Amber came outside carrying a sack lunch.

"You got your hands full," I warned her, nodding at the various panicky people. "Be careful out there!" She promised she would be.

Captain Old Guy was ready to load up the boat, but I stopped everyone as they passed.

"Group shot with Bébhinn!" I said, and they complied, glad to think of something else for a few minutes.

They hugged Bébhinn good-bye, and all of us were very sad.

"Have we been good craic?" Brian asked her, using the Irish word for "fun" or "good times." Bébhinn just laughed out loud.

"The best!" she told him. "You're mad craic! I'll miss the Craic Pack!"

And that was how we got our name--the Craic Pack. It was so appropriate and fitting!

Everybody hugged Bébhinn, and then ran off to the boat. We waved and watched them pulling away into the harbor.

"They're all gonna die," I told Jan, still smiling and waving.

"I know," she answered back.

It was much quieter after the group left. Bébhinn had all sorts of ideas for Jan and I, who were both perfectly content to have a low-key day. Bébhinn said she could take us hiking in the nearby hills, or for a coastal walk. I counter offered with a trip to the local chocolate factory, and Jan seconded that suggestion.

The factory was a good 20 minutes away. But the drive was beautiful, up the hill, overlooking the green, quilt work-patterned peninsula. Bébhinn stopped first on one side, where we could see the harbor connecting the two strips of land, and all the lush green fields throughout.

Then she pulled to the ocean side, where we watched a surfer and and his dog playing with a giant stick. It reminded me again how lucky animals are to live in Ireland--no leashes, no collars, just a giant stretch of beach and water to run all along. That was the happiest dog I've ever seen!

We also had a great view of the Skellig Islands. They seemed so close. We wondered how our group was faring, and sent them positive thoughts.

 

Bébhinn pulled the Land Rover into the chocolate factory, and I clapped with delight. This was a good day already, and an even better day when I saw the adorable calves grazing out front!

 

The factory was empty inside, so the girl working there was excited to see us. 

"Step up for a tasting!" she said, so we happily did.

 

She was so excited to help us. She explained the history of the factory, showing us photos of when it burned down, and how the new building was open so that we could see the people making the chocolates right in front of us. 

She showed us the two-step process of making the chocolates, holding up a filled mold. 

"You really enjoy your job," Jan said, and she blushed a bit, but heartily agreed.

"I love it! It's the best job in the whole world!" she exclaimed. "That's why they put me up front here. I'd eat all the candy if I worked back there!" She was adorable!

Then, she brought out a mat, and placed a handful of chocolates onto it. She described each kind, cutting it into small pieces to taste. 

"This one's my favorite," she said, clapping her hands. "Strawberries and Champagne!" 

And indeed, it was fantastic. You could really taste the strawberry jam inside, and the hint of Champagne.

We tasted some other flavors that were also unusual (lime and pepper dark chocolate, key-lime chocolates, and even a whisky-filled chocolate) but equally delicious. It was an awesome morning!

We filled up on samples, and made some purchases. (Fine. Many purchases. A LOT OF PURCHASES. Happy?) Then Jan and I found this hilarious cut-out (chocolate-covered babies!), and Bébhinn took our picture.

Bébhinn tried again to take us hiking, but once again, we declined. Jan and I were digging our restful day! 

We agreed instead on a trip to the Skellig Michael interpretive center. Just because we didn't go out to the islands didn't mean we couldn't learn about them! (Plus, there wasn't anything else to do in town!)

Bébhinn drove us over and walked us right inside the center. I was super sad, because this was officially our good-bye. I was going to miss Bébhinn, her sense of humor, and her great stories about Ireland and the Irish people. It really felt like we'd been touring Ireland with a friend, not just a guide, and I was sad to see our friend go. (She had to because Irish driving laws say guides can only drive 6 days in a row.)

So we bid Bébhinn farewell, and promised to email her once the Craic Pack safely returned.

"I'm kinda worried about them now," she said, and we nodded in agreement. 

The interpretive center was small, and we finished the whole thing in about 30 minutes. They also had a movie, so we followed a big group of German tourists into the theatre to watch.

The funniest part was that 10 minutes into the film, one tourist pulled out his camera and snapped a photo of the movie! He even used a flash! I started to giggle, and then another tourist did the same thing! As we watched the whole film, three or four tourists took photos of the show. I could barely focus on the movie after that.

When we were done, Jan and I walked back to town. It wasn't far, maybe a mile over a straight, flat bridge. But once we walked over the water, the wind flared up, hard, pounding us with freezing air. We couldn't talk or hear each other, so we just flipped up our jacket collars, covered our faces, and walked single file to the other side. Where, amazingly, the minute we were over land again, the wind immediately stopped. That Irish wind is crazy!

By the time we reached the other side of the bridge, we were chilled to the bone. We had about 90 minutes until the boat returned, so Jan suggested lunch and I was down with that.

We picked an adorable little cafe on the water's edge. (Not a difficult decision--the only other restaurant in town was the pub attached to our hotel.) It was warm inside, and we found a table next to the window with a great view of the bay.

We ordered coffee and hot chocolate, and enjoyed our handmade sandwiches. As we ate, a heavy, sideways rain began to fall outside, and we watched it through our picture window.

"We definitely made the right decision today," I said, shivering, and Jan wholeheartedly agreed. 

We lingered as long as we could in the cafe, but soon enough, it grew really crowded (there were only 5 or 6 tables inside). We decided to wander around town a bit until our fellow travelers returned.

But as we walked by the dock, we saw them pulling in 30 minutes early. We waved wildly at them, and they waved back.

I watched Margie get off the boat first. She saw us, and raised her fist triumphantly in the air.

"Margie conquered the stairs!" I said, and Jan nodded. We could tell she was super proud of herself, and we were proud, too!

Mary and Ashley disembarked, and then Amber. Even from the dock, I could see Amber gingerly lift her leg over the boat, and onto the stairs.

"Oh no, Amber hurt herself!" I said. We watched her walk slowly up the dock to us.

I wanted to assemble the group together to take a photo for Bébhinn, but they all ran right past me and into the warm pub across the street. I felt Bébhinn's pain all week, trying to herd this group of runaways together.

Amber gave me the lowdown on the trip.

"How was it?" I asked, hoping to hear "GREAT!!"

"You would've hated EVERY MINUTE of it!" she said, and once again, I thanked my lucky stars, and my gut instinct for staying behind.

Apparently, the boat ride over was pretty hairy. It immediately started raining as the boat left the harbor--as you can see in this pic with the captain, George, and Brian.

Just then, a nice young man walked past us, and Amber nodded hello.

"I sat next to him on the boat," she whispered, then mimed him upchucking. "I'm pretty sure he had Irish stew for dinner last night."

Which made me gag a bit, myself!

Amber said the swells were HUGE and the Craic Pack got drenched. George felt fine, and talked the whole way out, but the rest of the pack was deathly silent (I didn't think that was possible!). Amber said the ride was very rough, and she was glad I wasn't aboard (I don't do well on boats).  She said that she held on to the tiny boat for dear life, because they rolled over every swell, and then fell, and got pounded with water on the way down. She said at one point Mary was near the edge of the boat, about to get sick, and Amber was convinced she'd have to grab the strap on the back of Mary's jacket to keep her from going overboard.

But they all came back alive, even Ashley (Mary was soooo glad she didn't kill her with the seasick pills.) Linda did not drown, but King Brian also threw up. We decreed him an honorary member of the Irish Hurling team, since he hurled right into the Wild Atlantic Way.

The group did alright climbing up the stairs, but it rained once they got to the top, because it's Ireland and that's what happens when we go hiking. Poor Amber slipped on the wet stairs and hurt her knee, so Mary helped escort her down. Amber is a tough New England girl, so she applied some of Mary's magic cream on her knee (we passed it around to everyone at some point!), and kept on. (She tried to play down the pain, but turns out she sprained ligaments in two places--ouch!) 

Amber took lots of great shots of Skellig Michael...this was the stairway to the top of the mountain!

Nate the Great escorted a little old lady who was having trouble up the stairs, because he is such a nice guy. He also stood by the captain on the ride out, who informed him they almost cancelled the trip this morning due to the weather.

 

I see those stairs and all I can think is, "That's where I would've tripped and died." Skellig Michael is not for klutzy, unbalanced people like me!

Puffin!!! This is my one regret...I really wanted to see the puffin colony on the island.

Have I mentioned how proud I was of the Craic Pack?? Look at this path!

Like I said, the whole group ran past me after disembarking, and I found out later it was because they were wet and freezing. They rushed into the warm pub and immediately ordered hot soup all around. 

We figured our new driver, Darren, would arrive around 1:30 or 2, but by 3, there was still no sign of him. I felt really bad for the group, who was exhausted from the boat ride and stairs, and because they were still wet. Their dry clothes were packed away in the luggage trailer. Eventually, they just went up to the hotel lounge and crashed out on the floor.

Darren finally showed up around 3:30. He shook all our hands, and said we'd have introductions later, then said we were ready to go. He didn't offer up dry clothes for the group, just led us out into the rain, where we walked long enough to get completely soaked all over again. The group was not happy about it.

"Bébhinn would have brought the bus to us," Brian grumbled, and he was right!

Darren also had a different driving style than Bébhinn--he zoomed down the wet, windy country roads at a breakneck speed, oblivious to the pelting rain or rocking Land Rover. I feared I might actually get motion sick over the next few days, and a couple times, Amber and I exchanged frightened looks when he took the corners too sharply. But Brian saved the day again.

"Hey Darren, we're not in a hurry," he said. "We'd rather get there alive, so if you could just slow down..."

"Right!" Darren said, immediately laying off the gas. 

Amber and I, in the front row, enjoyed the sights, including a rainbow out the front window. But the rest of the group was very quiet--we couldn't figure out why, until I snapped a group selfie. They were all fast asleep!

Darren stopped about 45 minutes later to show us a ring fort. He tried to explain what a ring fort is, but the microphone stopped working, and as he was fiddling with it, it started raining outside. 

"I'm not going," Margie immediately said, and Mary agreed with her. They were done with the rain.

Amber and I hopped out, zipped up, and trudged through across a wet field and a flowing river overtaking it banks.

We walked into the middle of the ring fort, where Darren was telling us more about it.

I turned to look at all the walls, but when I turned back around, Amber was gone. 

I saw her huddled with Nate under the doorway.

"You okay?" I asked, and she just shook her head. 

"I'm done," she said in the most un-Amber way ever. (Amber is always excited and positive, but this rain was the last straw for her.) She turned and walked away, Nate right behind her. They were moving so fast, I could barely keep up with them!

We re-grouped in the Land Rover, where Darren tried to work the microphone again. It never really picked up, so eventually we just passed out snacks, buckled up, and headed off to our final destination for the night.

It was a 90 minute ride to our final stop, Glengarrif, but it was a lovely little town when we got there! We didn't have much time before dinner, but Mary, Ashley, Amber and I managed to check into our rooms and sneak in a little shopping before eating.

Dinner was lovely, but quiet. Everyone was just thankful to be warm and in dry clothes, so we ate quietly.

Darren went off to fix the microphone after dinner, so I busted out the box of chocolates Bébhinn bought the group as a farewell gift. They were really touched, and we raised our glasses to toast her.

I was full and happy when dinner was over, but not quite ready to call it a night. We hadn't even seen the town outside, other than the gift shop next to the hotel, so Amber, Linda, Brian and I decided to go for a little stroll. 

Little being the operative word here...we walked about two blocks down the street, and suddenly, we reached the end. Of the town! There simply was no more! I'm not kidding when I say we stayed in tiny little towns!

So we changed our plan, and walked back to the nearest pub instead. It was actually two pubs--one entryway, but two different doors splitting off into two different pubs. We walked into the door on the right. 

We chose wrongly, and ended up at someone's private wedding reception! We thought about leaving, but before we could, the barmaid took our order. There was a guy playing live music, and no one seemed to mind, so we figured we'd stay for a few songs and a drink before going.

We carried our beers over to an empty table. People were moving all over the pub, going in and out the front and back doors. But I was most surprised to see this guy, who made several rounds through the pub.

That's right, they let dogs in the pubs! 

They also let babies in, too! This little guy looked like a baby leprechaun, and he was totally busting a move on top of the pool table!

It was all kinda crazy, and yet, not. Welcome to Ireland, where everyone's allowed in the pubs, even dogs and babies!

And with that, we were out. It'd been a long day (longer for the Skellig Michael crew!) and we were tired. So back we went, to rest up for tomorrow, and whatever adventures that day would bring.

Day 9: Dingle to Portmagee A Nice Little Jaunt

It was nice to spend two nights in the same place, but there was more Ireland to see, so we were off once again.

Today's adventure began with breakfast with the group, where we learned that Mary, Ashley, George, and Linda had quite a night out at the pubs. Amber shot me the stink eye and I felt bad about making her miss a fun night out, but only momentarily. I hated missing out on a fun night, too, but my knee felt so much better after rest and magic cream, the guilt quickly dissipated.

We brought our bags out to the Land Rover, which Bébhinn was cleaning out. It looked so clean and shiny! We loaded our bags into the trailer, climbed into the car, and waited for Brian, today's co-pilot, to close the doors.

"Everybody's in!" he called to Bébhinn, tapping twice on the windows.

Bébhinn winced at the hand prints on the glass, and lamented, "I just cleaned that!" 

I couldn't stop giggling about that!

Bébhinn drove us off into the hills, offroading down a dirt path, and finally, down to a gorgeous clearing by a lake, Lough Annascaul. The view was just astounding!

And of course, as was our new tradition, it started raining as soon as we stopped the car. Not Cliffs of Moher type rain, but rain none the less. Ireland sure made us work for our hikes!

The young adults were gone in a flash, halfway up the hill before I'd even changed into my hiking boots. I walked with Linda, and we talked all about our families and our houses, and stopped about a million times to take photos. I just couldn't get over how beautiful it all was, how quiet and peaceful, and the good companions only made it better. 

We were hiking up to a waterfall on the hill top, but all along the way, you could see where it traveled down the mountain, forming smaller waterfalls, and spilling into little rivers.

The dirt path graduated into a craggy, rockier path, which we navigated like billy goats, hopping from one stone to the next, climbing over the wooden styles to get to the next field. Brian and Margie stood at the side of each big stone and style, holding our their hands to help us across. (Kudos to their parents, who raised some outstanding people!) 

The path grew steeper, and eventually it was too much for my knee. It was also a bit much for fellow hiker Jan--she was wearing sneakers, and with the rain and slippery rocks, it was kind of dangerous. 

About three-quarters of the way up, Jan and I turned back down the path. I gasped a little when I turned around, because the view was breathtaking from that high up the hill. The waterfalls to my left, grazing sheep to my right, the lake in front of us, framed by the hills, a soft rain falling on us--it was just amazing. 

It was exactly what'd you picture if you were imagining Ireland, and what it would look like. I could've stayed there forever just staring at that view, but the rain was falling a little harder now, and Jan was getting farther away.

I caught up with Jan, and we talked about her trip so far. She'd been traveling with her husband for two months, to Greece, Croatia, England, and finally to Ireland for Jan, while her husband spent the week golfing with friends in Scotland.


It was nice talking to Jan. She was the oldest in the group, but more importantly, she was the quietest. (Just for reference--I was like the third of fourth funniest and loudest in the group--which NEVER happens!!) I think (I know) sometimes we were all too much for Jan, who was happy to escape on her own with a book.

I also appreciated having an excuse to cut my hikes short by saying, "Oh, I'll walk back with Jan," instead of saying, "My gimpy knee is killing me and I can't walk another step!" And trust me, although I pretended to be helpful, I knew the truth--even though Jan was older, she could walk rings around me! She'd walked 110 miles across England 10 years ago, so I knew who the real gimp was! 

Nate, Ben and Ashley passed us on our way down, but at least we beat everyone else! We loaded up the Vagatron, except for Nate, who ran ahead to open the gate for us.

But there was traffic at the gate--a whole flock of sheep! Bébhinn stopped the car, and the shepherd guided them through the gate, and around our car. We were so excited, laughing and pointing and passing cameras around to photograph them. I thought the lake and valley were the stereotypical Irish scene, but it didn't get more Irish than this!

The flock finally passed by, and Bébhinn bounced us over the dirt road and away. Nate closed the gate behind us, and jumped back into the car, but we only drove about five minutes before running into a second flock of sheep! These guys were running right on the road, and there was no way to pass them. We started laughing again, and I told the group, "I've been in a traffic jam before, but this is a real traffic lamb!" And then I cracked up at my own joke!

We drove past the town of Annascaul, stopping in front of Tom Crean's pub. He was a local hero, even though nobody even knew it until he was an old man!

As a young man, he joined the British Navy, and completed three expeditions to Antarctica. In 1912, his raced to reach the South Pole first, but Tom got in trouble, and the leader banned him from completing the mission. Which worked out okay for him, since the group went astray and ended up freezing to death. Tom made it back alive, but because he'd signed on as a British sailor, he never told anyone in Ireland about his journey (the Irish really don't like how the British continually oppressed them). 

Eventually, Tom's story came out, and he was recognized for his adventures, even getting a beer named after him. Well done, Tom!

We cruised down the coast a bit, then turned off the road and on to Inch Beach. Against her better judgment, Bébhinn let us out of the car, telling us to be back in 15 minutes. We waved and ran off. 

The beach was busy--there were cars everywhere, parked right on the sand! There were also lots of surfers, surfboards, and surfing schools, which Amber and I stopped to watch. The little kids were so cute as they practiced on the beach in their wetsuits, flopping down on to their surfboards in the sand. 

Eventually, the group reconvened at the Land Rover and Bébhinn turned the Land Rover around. At least I thought she was turning it around, but she turned halfway and gunned it down the beach. When we realized we were taking the long way round, the whole group started cheering. 

Bébhinn drove us along the water's edge, all of us chattering excitedly. We took a million photos, sticking our arms and heads out the windows for better shots, watching the sea spray up along the windows, and the sand fly up from behind the car. It was our second offroad trip of the day, and it made me so happy to be in that Land Rover, and not in some stuffy mini-van.

Eventually, Bébhinn guided the Vagatron back to the road, and we were off again. 

"How long is the drive?" I asked Bébhinn, although it really didn't matter--she never told us the truth anyway (15 minutes really meant half an hour, "one hour" meant an hour and a half, and so on). One time Bébhinn even told us, "It's only 10 minutes away, I promise, 10 minutes! I promise! OK, maybe 15 minutes, but definitely not more than 20, I swear!"

"About 45 minutes," she told us, so we all settled in for a 75 minute drive.

Our next stop was Killarney National Park. The drive in to Killarney was gorgeous--we moved inland, away from the coast, and into the forest. It was filled with trees as big as buildings, and lush green plants carpeting the ground. 

As we pulled into town, I was struck by how swanky it all looked--the hotels were much fancier than our humble little village hotels, and even the churches were much grander. We drove by one which was huge, a cathedral, really, with a giant tower out front, and bells ringing. Out front stood a large wedding party taking photos, and we waved and took our own photos. Seemed kind of unusual to have such a large wedding on a random Thursday, and when I asked Bébhinn if that was unusual, she said it was.

Half the group was scheduled for a bike tour, and the other half for a jaunting cart ride. But first, we needed lunch.

As usual, we were running late, so Bébhinn implored us to order something quick. I ordered my new favorite meal, seafood chowder (rivaled only by my other Irish favorite, fish and chips!). Jan and Linda decided to split a burger, but when Jan ordered it medium rare, the waiter shook his head.

"By law, we cook all burgers well-done," he told her, so Jan said, "Well, okay, then, well-done."

Bébhinn, who had filled us with stories of the rebellious Irish, just shook her head. 

"Really?" she asked, in disbelief, after all the stories she told us of how the Irish never enforce any laws. "This is where we Irish draw our line in the sand? On well-done hamburgers?"

We all cracked up!

After lunch, we headed to the park, which is known for its famous red deer. I thought we'd have to look carefully to find them, but nope, there were, grazing right alongside the road. We saw a couple small groups of them, but what was more surprising was that they seemed to be the only wildlife in the whole forest. 

I'd been really excited about Killarney, because the group activity was bike riding through the park. However, my knee injury sidelined that, so I was opting for the jaunting cart, a horse and buggy, instead. Amber was even more excited than I was, and at the last minute, Jan and Mother Mary decided to join us.

Our first stop was for the bikers. The Shinners', Ashley, and George saddled up, put on their helmets, and they were off! I watched them go, a little sad at missing out, but Bébhinn quickly guided us back to Vagatron.

We were so excited about the jaunting cart! The carts have been in Killarney forever, and the licenses to drive them are a treasured commodity, passed down from generation to generation. You can't buy the licenses anywhere, said our driver, who'd received his from his father.

Jan, Mary, Amber and I climber aboard, and we were off to see Killarney!

The park was BEAUTIFUL. We jaunted out into the valley, a lushly forested hill behind us, and a giant lake to our left. A small herd of red deer grazed contently by the lake, staring at us, ears twitching as we clip-clopped by. Assured we meant them no harm, they returned to their meal. 

The park was busy, people everywhere, but so big that we never felt crowded. And it was quiet, so quiet, except for the horse, Captain, who clomped his feet and occasionally blew out a huge breath of air. 

We enjoyed the peaceful ride, listening to our guide tell us all about the park. It was so relaxing, I didn't bad any more about missing the bike ride.

After passing and the main part of the park and the Muckross house, we continued on past some more giant trees, many of them hundreds of years old. Eventually, we came upon the Muckross Abbey, and the driver let us out to explore for a bit. And as soon as we stepped out of the carriage, a gentle rain began to fall. 

We all laughed, because that's what Ireland does to us every time we get out of the vehicle!

The Abbey was old, with lots of stone walls and arched doorways. It had a beautiful cemetery with giant Celtic crosses and bright flowers everywhere. It was so quiet, a lovely place to be buried.

Amber, Mary, Jan and I wandered the hallways, admiring the gorgeous building. It seemed untouched, and I could easily imagine a monastic life here, monks gliding through the hallways, up and down all the secretive little stone staircases.

A giant yew stood proudly in the courtyard. The magnificent tree, more than 600 years old, was twisted all around the trunk, but its branches lifted up high past the walls, as though reaching up to God. It was beautiful, spiritual, and I could see why the Irish treasured the yew so.

We climbed to the top of the abbey, and were rewarded with another view of the cemetery, and the park beyond it. 

The rain began to fall a little harder, so we returned to our covered carriage. The driver cracked the reins, and Captain was off again, leading us back toward the lake.

We continued on, over steep hilly cliffs above the lakes, past tiny islands in the water, and through dense holly along the path. I've never seen wild holly before, and it was growing everywhere, pointy leaves fighting to get sunlight. 

We passed bikers, and walkers, and families chasing after running babies. We circled back around the giant trees, eventually pulling up to the final stop in front of the Muckross House.

I was super relaxed after the ride, and easily could've napped on the lawn between the house and the lake. I knew there was a waterfall nearby, but wasn't sure my knee would hold up on another hike, so when Jan suggested taking the house tour, we all joined in.

The mansion, built in 1843 for Henry Herbert and his wife, Mary, had 65 lavishly decorated rooms. The family happily occupied it until a renovation for Queen Victoria's visit drove them into financial ruin. The mansion was then purchased by the grandson of Guinness magnate Arthur Guinness, who in turn sold it to a wealthy Californian mining magnate, William Bowers Bourne, who gifted it to his daughter for her wedding. After she died, Bourne donated the land to the Irish government, creating Killarney National Park.

The house was an interesting contrast from the famine cabins and monastic stone beehives we'd previously seen. Everything in it was custom built, from the giant serving stations in the dining room, to the hand-carved furniture in the many drawing rooms, to the pool table that was so heavy, the floor was re-enforced to keep from collapsing. 

The walls were papered with fragile Asian silk paintings, or hung huge animal heads or stuffed birds of prey. Hunting was a popular activity, so gun racks also decorated the walls. We viewed the regal dining rooms, the drawing rooms and libraries, the dance hall, the suites of bedrooms with spectacular views of the lake, and the nursery. Eventually, the guide led us downstairs to the servant's domain, through the kitchen, the pantries and the massive wine cellar. It was overwhelming to see such a display of wealth, especially when the rest of Ireland seemed completely void of such basic natural resources like food and heat. 

The biking group whizzed past us as we were leaving the mansion, and we all hooted and waved excitedly (we hadn't seen them for two whole hours!). Turns out, the bike ride was pretty tough, and kicked their butts. Turns out my wonky knee did me a favor by keeping me off the bikes.

It was late afternoon by the time we drove out of Killarney, and we were beat. I was super excited because we were scheduled to drive the Ring of Kerry to our final stop of the day, Portmagee. The Ring of Kerry is supposed to be one of the most scenic routes in Ireland.

Bébhinn knew we liked games, so she put on a Chieftains CD so we could guess who was singing duets with them. I love music, so I thought I'd do well, but I had some stiff competition--Brian and George are both big music fans as well. They were beating me pretty bad at first, so I just started calling out all the Irish musicians I knew--Dolores O'Riordan (the Cranberries), Sinead O'Connor, Van Morrison. I was soon tied with Brian, but mostly through luck, not skill. 

Everyone else drifted off to sleep, so Brian and I teamed up, working together to guess the duets. We played for a good 45 minutes, and had a really good time bonding over music.

We were well into the drive when I asked Bébhinn when we'd get to the Ring of Kerry. She told me we'd been driving on it the whole time! I was not that impressed--it was pretty, sure, but not any prettier than the rest of Ireland we'd seen so far.

There was one hairy bit, though, when we climbed up a steep, skinny road. We climbed higher and higher, with nothing but a wimpy wire fence between us and the gigantic cliff that ended at the ocean. The road was not only skinny, it was also covered by low-hanging trees, and the car scraped the side and the top as we slowly inched up the road. It was so nerve-wracking I had to close my eyes--I couldn't take it, and I didn't want to see if we went tumbling down the mountain! I was just grateful there were no cars coming down the mountain at that time.

The road curved at the top, turning into another skinny, windy road. Bébhinn whipped around the corners, driving us through tiny villages and fields of sheep. Suddenly, we saw a little lamb crying. His head was stuck in the fence, and he was trying desperately to get it out.

Bébhinn slammed on the brakes, waking up all the sleepers. She hopped out of the car and ran over to the lamb.

"Where are we?" somebody asked, with a yawn.

"There's a lamb stuck in the fence," we answered. "Bébhinn went to help!" 

We weren't sure what to do--nobody else had any experience with farm animals. Brian and Nate hopped out to help, and after much help from Bébhinn and the Shinners, we saw the lamb shake its head free, headbutt another lamb waiting nearby, and then run off with that lamb. 

"Bébhinn saved the lamb!" we cried out when she returned to the car. She hopped in, buckled up, and drove off, shaking away our praise. 

"They get trapped like that, they can die," she said, matter-of-factly. Her dad is a sheep farmer, so she knew how to help. She told us when a sheep needs help, you do what you can--her dad even jumped off a cliff once to save his flock, and he couldn't swim! (He saved the sheep, though.)

And then we just drove off. It wasn't enough that We weren't sure what to do--nobody else had any experience with farm animals. Brian and Nate hopped out to help, and after much help from Bébhinn and the Shinners, we saw the lamb shake its head free, headbutt another lamb waiting nearby, and then run off with that lamb. 

"Bébhinn saved the lamb!" we cried out when she returned to the car. She hopped in, buckled up, and drove off, shaking away our praise. 

"They get trapped like that, they can die," she said, matter-of-factly. Her dad is a sheep farmer, so she knew how to help. She told us when a sheep needs help, you do what you can--her dad even jumped off a cliff once to save his flock, and he couldn't swim! (He saved the sheep, though.)

And then we just drove off. It wasn't enough that Bébhinn drove us around and kept us all safe, she even saved random stuck sheep! She's a true hero!

We finally rolled into Portmagee around 7. It was a tiny town, only one hotel and one pub (that's our red hotel, the Moorings). 

I took a quick peek around, but we were all exhausted, so we quickly checked in, then met downstairs for dinner.

It was a fairly mellow dinner, for this loud crowd, anyway. We were tired, but we were also pretty sad--this was Bébhinn's last night with us (Irish law says drivers can only drive for 6 days in a row). Bébhinn kept telling us to go easy on our next guide, Darren. 

Bébhinn was as sad about leaving us as we were, although she tried not to let on. She gave herself away at one point, though, saying, "Who am I gonna have dinner with tomorrow night?"

We almost burst into tears, then told her she needed to Skype us, so we could all eat together!

We reminisced about the tour, and thanked Bébhinn for taking such good care of us.

"Were we good craic, Bébhinn?" Brian asked, using the Irish term for fun or good times.

"Aw, ye were mad craic!" she laughed. "The maddest! What a craic pack!"

And that's how we earned our group name, the Craic Pack! We loved the apt description, and immediately raised our glasses to cheer. We were so sad to see Bébhinn go, we felt like we were losing one of our own family members. But it was also a really nice night, all of us together one last time, passing around email addresses and contact info, and toasting one of own. 

And, Bébhinn reminded us, it wasn't quite done yet--we still had one last breakfast together. So off we went to bed, tired but full, both in our stomachs and our hearts.