Green Grass And High Tides

Well, green grass anyway.

The Ireland tour was, in a word that's used way too much to explain things that hardly meet it's standard, epic.  A whirl-wind 7-day tour of the entire country with a company called Shamrocker Adventures.  But first, let's go back to Friday, May 7th.

Dublin - May 7th

I arrived in Dublin... At some point in the afternoon.  I can't even remember now.  After wandering for what seemed like ages to find my hostel I laid down for my customary "New City Let's Nap" nap.  Little did I know I would be sharing a room that night with someone who would be joining me on the tour.  More on him later.

After napping I strolled through Dublin a bit and stopped for a pint of Guinness and a plate of bangers and mash at a pub in the Temple Bar district called Farrington's.  Guinness really does taste better in Ireland, Dublin specifically.  My camera was dead and charging so I've no pictures from this day.  Later in the evening I went out for a couple more pints by myself, then retired early to the hostel as I had to be up and at them early the next morning.

Dublin to Killarney - May 8th

I met a few of my fellow travellers in the lobby of the hostel before boarding the bus for an 8:30am departure.  We visited the Mitchelstown caves, which sadly doesn't allow pictures inside.  Story goes an Irish farmer dropped a crowbar out in one of his fields one day and discovered a network of caves.  These caves make for a natural amphitheatre with incredible sound.  One of the ladies on the tour sang a few verses of a song, no electric amplification needed.  Any write up I try to do on these caves will only be selling them short and since there are no pictures I'll reluctantly move on.  One of my favourite stops on the entire tour though, that's for sure.

Oh wait, I found a picture, kind of.

From the caves we went into the rebel county of Cork and to Blarney Castle, home of the legendary Blarney Stone.  I forget the entire history of Blarney castle and the Blarney Stone but it goes something like this:  Queen Elizabeth (?) wanted Blarney Castle.  Those who lived there said no.  She called it, 'a bunch of blarney!'  Get it?  Blarney/baloney.  Anyway.

Blarney Castle

Legend has it that kissing the Blarney Stone gives one the "gift of the gab."  In order to kiss the stone you have to lay flat on your back and hang over the edge of a wall and streeeeeeeeeetch your face and lips over to it.  It's completely safe, there are bars below you and a guy lovingly grasps your hips and holds on to you, but it's such a strange feeling to be hanging upside down that I'd be lying if I didn't say it was a little unnerving.  Did I get the gift of the gab?  I think I already had it, though I'm sure many will call it the gift of being a dickhead.

From here we went to Killarney for our first overnight stay of the tour, stopping at a beach along the way.

 

Steve: Completely unable to pose for a picture without looking like a tard.

Killarney is a neat little town.  Think Irish town and you've got it.  The plan for this night was to watch a local entertainer tell a supposedly entertaining story.  Myself and two others from the tour went to the pub where the entertainment was to take place upstairs but were so enamoured with the band downstairs that we skipped story time.  The band was a singer with an acoustic guitar and another guy with an electric guitar and they played Irish folk songs as well as some covers, such as The Gambler by Kenny Rogers, which I'm completely convinced now was written with traditional Irish folk in mind.  The guy singing was an incredible natural, looking so relaxed and like he'd been singing and playing guitar his entire life.  He had an amazing voice, pronouncing every word with that awesome Southern Irish accent.  Tonight was another early night for myself as I was still maybe feeling a little jetlag. 

Tomorrow we went to the Dingle Peninsula and overnight in Ennis but first, some of the people on the tour:

- Matt; the completely fucked-out-of-his-mind-drunk-every-single-day Australian guy.  Obnoxious and crass, he ended up growing on me in the end.  This guy literally drank every single day, usually starting around lunch time.

- Ian The Scotsman; Ian never wore pants and rarely wore a jacket.  "I'm a hearty Scot!" he would bellow.  About 40 and looking like a typical Scottish bloke with long hair and a beard and calf muscles the size of my head.  This guy was a riot to talk to because of his awesome accent.

- Penny and Meredith, The 50-somethings Aussie Chicks; These ladies had the time of their lives on this tour and consistently had the best stories the morning after.  Fantastic senses of humour on these broads.

Carol, The Tour Guide and Brenda The Bus Driver; I'd be remiss if I forgot these two.  Carol guided the tour and made everything a blast and Brenda's ability to guide the bus through the winding roads of the Irish country side at breakneck speed is a marvel unto itself and always got us to our destinations on time.

Unfortunately I'm now running out of internet time and I'm already almost out of Pounds Sterling so I'll have to cut this update off right here.  Wow, a full update on only one day in Ireland.  Brevity it seems, will not be my strong point.  Tomorrow afternoon I jump on the Eurostar train across the English Channel to Paris, France.  Yeah I know, stinky French people.  I'm getting out of there after only three days, don't worry.