So, on July 15th, we woke up to FOG. In fact, our B and B sits right in front of a great view of the Brandon Mountain (which was the task at hand on today's hike), but we couldn't even see that there was a mountain from our window. When we asked the owner the night before (which was also foggy, but not as bad) where Brandon Mountain was, she replied, "Right there," as she pointed out our window. Nothing.

We waited around the B and B until 11ish, waiting for the fog to lift, but it never did. It is unadvisable to climb up in fog, so we knew our walk for the day might not happen. The B and B lady suggested that she drive us to the end of Connor Pass so that we could walk just a bit to our Cloghane B and B. Driving over Connor Pass in thick fog is a bit scary, especially considering how narrow the roads are...and how she drove as if she owned the road:) We eventually came to a drop-off spot on the Dingle Way and walked about four miles to our B and B.

Seeing as how we've been walking for quite some time with only two outfits each, we decided that today would be a good day for laundry! Our B and B hostess told us about a place in Brandon Village. We loaded up our bags and set off on a 4-mile goose chase. The laundry place had closed three years earlier! Say what?  So, what else could we do...we went into a pub and had some drinks before heading on back to our place. Andy is now at 29.5 Guinnesses. And just think...he didn't drink GUINNESS every day; there has been wine! After the drinks and walk back, we washed our clothes the same way we have been for the last three weeks-in the sink, except this time with hand soap rather than Tide sink packets which we ran out a few days ago.

In Cloghane, the views are really spectacular. Brandon Mountain peaked out later in the day with the arrival of the sun. Also, the town sits in a valley of mountains, with the coast lining the main street of the village. The tide comes in and out, creating significant changes in the scenery all day long. It's quite a pretty village. Andy and I enjoyed some pub grub and drinks followed by some funny pics on the village streets. Along with the drinks and photos came some newfound bravery also. We decided that tomorrow, we'd summit Brandon Mountain using the Pilgrimage trail!!!

This morning we set off in COMPLETE FOG! It was pretty eerie, but we were in good spirits! We even joked about trying to stage some creepy photos of us coming out of the mist, but decided that the effect wouldn't be nearly as cool as the idea, so we ventured on. The fog sort of came and went the whole day, but it never got quite as thick as it had been in the morning. On the way to Clogher Beach, we stopped in at Louis Mulcahy (sp?) pottery. We were tempted, oh-so-tempted, to max out the old VISA, but we stayed strong and bought nothing. We dreamed of future days, when we'd be rich from teaching, and have enough money to buy a whole kitchen set:) Great stuff though, and actually reasonably priced for artwork!

We ventured on with full pockets and light backpacks to Clogher Beach. We sat for quite some time as it is a very beautiful sight. Next, we were supposed to go to another beautiful sight, but once again the marked path has been changed due to some disgruntled farmers. That was quite disappointing; we are hoping that these issues get resolved soon for all you future walkers! A few miles later, we found ourselves back on the trail, came upon the second beach walk and had lunch there.

Finally we came to Wine Strand, named so because of the history of smuggling that came through there. We had a snack and wished for some wine:) Andy joked about how I looked like a Girl Scout due to my bandana and gaiters, so he took a few pictures of me to tease  me and accompanied the photos by singing, "Will you get your patches today?" over and over. He decided my new nickname was "Patch." Huh.

Then, we came upon a beautiful cliff walk. That led us to our B and B...well to be honest, we got a bit lost on the way, but it was supposed to pretty much lead us right to our B and B. After stopping at someone's house to ask for directions, we finally made it safe and sound to our night's place of residence.

Our B and B hostess drove us to the only restaurant/guesthouse there ...it was about 30 Euros a plate. Not really in our budget; plus it seemed there was a dress code or something. We didn't feel so hot in our hiker gear and hoodies. Anyway, we shared some food and enjoyed the view of the cliffs we had walked on earlier. While we were there, we watched in amazement as one of the customers broke two or three wine chillers...the ones we had seen earlier that day at the pottery store. Note that each chiller costs roughly 70 Euros. She sort of blew it off, pretending it wasn't her even though it was blatantly obvious that her oversized purse knocked them off as she was looking at postcards. The waiter didn't say much, the woman sort of giggled and said, "We're checking in!" I felt a bit bad for her because it was such an embarrassing situation; Andy thought the opposite given the way she handled the situation.

All in all, it was a good day despite being kept up all night by the baaing of the sheep right outside our window! It was sort of fun listening to them all night until we realized they were babies baaing for their mothers.... The world of agriculture is a cruel one.

Well, today we woke up to some nasty, icky-poo weather (in Andy's words); today was also the day for our adventure to the Great Blasket Island. Before we had ventured over to Ireland, we had decided this side-trip was something we really wanted to experience, so despite the unfavorable weather, we took a ferry over to the Great Blasket Island. We had hoped to spend the whole day there, having a picnic, swimming, etc., but obviously due to the rainy and windy conditions, we decided we'd rather add clothing rather than take more clothing off...so no swimming!

Andy and I had quite an adventure trying to find the Dunquin pier (which incidentally is the Z-shaped road you see with tons of sheep climbing up on all the postcards...poor sheep; I believe that sheep situation was created specifically for the postcard...anyway...). We started off that morning from our B and B, which was supposedly only five minutes from the pier. We walked and walked and walked...We eventually went into the Blasket Islands Museum and Visitor Center to ask if we were heading in the right direction. The receptionist said we had missed it and must continue on. She gave us directions to head to the pier and assured us that we'd find it. We headed in her direction, and we realized she was having us retrace our steps... She had given us driving directions, and we were on foot! Oops!!! About an hour later we found the pier!!! Actually, a sheep dog led us there - he later got on one of the boats leaving the dock - we thought he was purposefully trying to help us when really he just wanted to find his owners:)

So, we walked down the pier and headed onto the boat. It was quite a rocky ride, but we got awesome views of the Sleeping Giant island as well as the other Blasket Islands. Soon, we realized we'd have to get off of our big ferry to get into inflatable rafters... Goodness gracious; for those of us scared of sharks and dying at sea, this was a bit scary:) Actually, Andy and I headed into a boat with a middle-aged group of women who made things much less scary...they kept joking about how we should all take one last picture on all of our cameras!  They were quite silly, having so much fun together... I hope I'm that spunky in ten years!

We all managed to safely arrive onto the island. The island is completely deserted and has been since the residents all evacuated in the 1950s sometime. Because of resources being used up (such as peat for heat) and the fact that education was taking place on the mainland combined with the shrinking number of residents, everyone left. Now, what remains on the island are the buildings of the old, abandoned village. Apparently you can now camp on the island; we saw a number of tents. That must be a real experience... Andy and I have decided that on the next journey to Ireland, we'll be doing that.

Also, to our surprise, there were many sheep and donkeys on the island! I wonder who takes care of them, when they got here, etc., etc. Plus, there were many sheep corpses and skeletons on the island, which makes me curious as to how they all have died! Anyway, back to my story... the real comedy of the island occcured before our eyes. The baby donkey decided that he was, in fact, the king of the island! He began bucking and running towards all of the sheep...seemingly just for the pleasure of it! The sheep all scattered every which way, and then the baby donkey would find a new group to terrorize! The even sillier part was that the adult donkeys all followed the baby donkey! It's impossible to describe the humor of the situation with words. Just a word of advice: if you ever go to Blasket Island, wait and watch for the baby donkey!

We wandered around the island, went down to the beach for a while, and then wandered some more. We really wished it was a better day, but we realize that we are in Ireland, so the chances of a rain-free trip to Blasket Island are not always in the cards. We did get some spectacular views of the Sleeping Giant Island, and we also watched gleefully as the harbor seals splashed about in the water. All in all, a fun day!

When we returned to the mainland, we went to the Blasket Islands Visitor Center. This musuem explained so much and was as worthwhile as going to the island. There is a short video presentation in which residents were interviewed about their experiences living on the island. There are also panels with background information on all of the literary artists that came from the island.

Of course, after this we headed back to Krueger's! Once again, we had a great night there. Our friendly bartender from the night before remembered us and asked us about our trip to Blasket Island. He asked Andy if he had proposed on the island to which we both answered that happened six years ago. He responded with, "Holy fuck man! How old are ye?" I told him that I was about to turn thirty and was freaking about it! He turned thirty recently and assured me that my life is not over - there was no need to jump off of any boats or cliffs or anything crazy like that. We were a bit disappointed because our friendly bartender did NOT make our sandwiches this time; another bartender did, and they were NOT as good. How tragic, huh? Nonetheless, we really liked this bar and were sad to leave at the end of the night.

If you're walking the Dingle Way, I'd actually recommend more than one night in Dunquin for sure. It is a small town with no real city center, but Blasket Island, the museum, and the pub are all fun. Plus, Slea Head and Ventry Beach are just a stone's throw away. We spent two nights in Dunquin and had actually wished we had spent three as to allow time to enjoy the beach. With that in mind, Andy and I like to travel slowly, taking things in...so it all depends on your personality!

After being in Ireland for a month, we can say with certainty that this is among the best B and Bs for the country. After staying with our hospitable hosts on our first night of the Dingle Way, we decided that we must return after the conclusion of our walk. Rachael and Ian, the owners, are friendly, accommodating, and helpful. Rachael was happy to pick us up from Camp at the end of our first day of our hike, while Ian was very helpful in showing us where to pick up the hike the next day. In addition, the house is beautiful, the breakfast is superb (eggs right from the ducks and chickens in the back), and the views are awesome! I highly recommend this place for anyone staying on the Dingle Peninsula.

Irish Aviation Authority has been experiencing some significant problems with it's just out of warranty radar (how's that for planned obsolescence), problems are to be expected. I check in via the Aer Lingus self service kiosk, fly through security though I require a good frisking apparently and then it's off to sink the first of the day.

Pint of Amstel that is, the flight is leaving through Pier A, one of the older parts of Dublin Airport and there is an initial delay of 20 mins to the flight time which allows me to enjoy another pint of Amstel and a copy of the Guardian.

Finally boarded (after a further slight delay and a bottle of Heineken), we settle back and await the inevitable. Not fully remembering, I've left my book tucked away in my hold luggage and am thus fully at the mercy of the hour long delay imposed upon us by the slot control system adopted by the IAA given the recent vagaries with the radar. Apparently, the difficulty was that the labels were dropping off the flights intermittently and anyway, it will take weeks before they are prepared to give the system the all clear for reliability at 100% operating capacity. I am saved only by the maiden voyage of my 160 GB Ipod, it's only got about 15000 tunes on it but the sheer variety keeps me entertained even though the bar service has not commenced.

Finally we push back and with no further (amazing) delay, punch the sky and bear east for mainland Europe, across the azure blue sky for touchdown in that former bastion of the Cold War, Berlin.

Ireland has a lot in common with other European countries. I am fan of Europe because they have quality of life with enjoying life at the same time. Lot’s of vacation time, no 50 hour work weeks, etc. They also protect their old and their retired and they do not depend so much on cars, having really good public transportation systems (that is why the high gas prices does not affect them as such). People are slim. People walk, cities are made for walking. People do not take the car to go to the local bank, they walk. Therefore, I only saw 5 overweight people amongst hundreds. I even counted Men dress nicer, jackets and more fitted pants. None of that baggy crotch down the knees pants look. A more homogenous society. There are immigrants but since many are from Poland and Eastern Europe, they blend right in with the Irish. Very clean country. There were men with washing machines cleaning the sidewalks. No trash anywhere. Little police presence (the cops there are unarmed) and even though we drove around a lot we did not see one traffic cop pullling anyone over). Still a family oriented society. Kids live at home while they are single, way into their 20’s (and sometimes 30’s and 40’s if they are unmarried, ha ha!). At least in the smaller and rural areas. Women are better dressed than in the U.S., not so casual/frumpy. Weather is cloudy, grey and rainy most of the time. Blue skies are rare. We had one sunny warm day (Saturday). They never get too much snow though, since they are between the Atlantic ocean and the Irish sea. Food is highly greasy and mostly fried, but somehow people are slim! I had the best fish and chips there ever, in the town of Trim (north of Dublin), in a small take away shop called “Castle”. A lot of people smoke, but surprisingly,you cannot smoke inside pubs and restaurants (like Maryland and DC). No smoking in their famous pubs? Wow. Good thing.Ireland seems to take care of their old and retired. My husband’s aunt is 88 and lives in a cute small house where twice a week people come and clean it for her. She told us her pension is good. My husband’s uncle, who is retired from construction work, seems to have a good standard of living with 4 kids, one still living at home. There is public health for all and private health system for those who want a better and faster treatment. We did not see any poverty nor did we see incredibly rich people or big mansions. Ireland has a lot of new modern constructions. Old and new together. If the weather were better, it would be a nice place to live. But if the weather was warmer, it would become a rat race too….

My first time in Ireland I was with a tour group, mostly Americans, and we had this beautiful blonde as our guide. One American guy was very obnoxious toward her, kept flirting with her even though everyone could tell she wasn't interested. You know, one of those guys who never gets the hint.

When we went to Blarney it was raining so hard they wouldn’t let us go see the Stone, because people slipped on the stairs and sued or something. So we piled back onto the bus, all soaked, and the obnoxious guy told the tour guide, “Well, since I won’t get a chance to kiss the Blarney Stone, and I’m sure you have, if you kiss me, it’ll be like I got to kiss the Blarney Stone, so this trip won't be a waste.”

The tour guide gave him a dazzling smile and said in her perfect brogue, “I’ve never actually kissed the Blarney Stone. . . but I have sat on it.”

So everyone’s laughing at this guy, and he's plenty pissed off. Later he said she must be a lesbian, if she wasn’t into him; yeah, he was that kind of guy. I said, “No, it just proves she has taste!”

That night I ran into her in the hall, told her what a great joke it was, and she thanked me and invited me to dinner with her. Later she invited me to her room, and. . .

The next morning I was leaving her room, putting my shirt on, when the obnoxious guy passed by and saw me. . .

I shrugged, “Told you she has taste. . .”

And as a friend said, “Who wants to kiss the backwash of a million lips?”

{Believe it or not, this story actually inspired a song of the same title--look for it on myspace}

The last two days have been in Ireland. We flew into Dublin on Thursday night and spent Friday in Maynooth and Saturday in Dublin. The Maynooth position is very tempting, tenure after one year, access to large grants for research, good pay and a role in moulding the direction of research in the Institute of Immunology. My big concerns were that last time (due to HR gone mad) I wasn't allowed to meet the faculty as my application had to be kept confidential (regardless of my personal preference, or the way every other university operates, with open interviews), and that mouse immunology was at a fairly low base in the institute so it would take me a while to build up to the infrastructure I needed for my research.

So it was a big relief to me to be able to return and talk to some people. It really eased my mind that the HR issue wasn't covering up some big problems. I was also impressed that they had Max Cooper there that day to give a talk on the evolution of alternative adaptive immunity in lungfish and hagfish, a fantastic talk. Lydia was less impressed with the opportunties Maynooth presented for her to work, she wouldn't have difficulty in finding work in administration or teaching, but nothing really jumped out at her. Walking down the tiny high street of Maynooth, we both agreed that we didn't really want to live in Maynooth either, so it'd probably have to be Dublin and commuting for me.

Saturday was to see Dublin. We started out at Connelly Station and did a circular walking tour of the city, through the main shopping district north of the river, crossing to Temple Bar (despite the current status as a binge drinking centre, it is named after the teacher and philosopher Sir William Temple, 1555-1627, Provost of Trinity College) and Christ Church Cathedral, and then walking to Trinity College. Trinity College was an unexpected delight, and by the end of our tour Lydia was ready to sign up for another degree. Trinity College was founded in 1592 by Queen Elizabeth the 1st, on the site of an Augustine Monastry (closed by Henry VIII). The College is built around four squares. The first square we started at was Parliament Square, so called because it was built 1710-1840 after being founded by the short-lived Parliament of Ireland. The chapel on the square (designed by Williams chambers and identical to the exam hall) was the first chapel in Ireland to be concencrated for both Catholic and Protestant religions, but only alumni within five years of graduating can get married there. The scholars hall is also on Parliament Square, it is here where the Commons Lunch is served everyday, which is actually highly exclusive. Students can chose to sit the scholars' exam after their second year, and those who do very well become scholars, being given a stipend to study, a scholarship for the rest of their degree and their post-graduate degree, and a free lunch every day. Scholars are called to lunch from the belltower, where school myth has it that anyone who walks under the belltower will never gradate from Trinity College with an academic degree. Our guide tells us that no student would ever walk under there sober, and he laughed when a group of school kids on tour did so. Next to the belltower is a statue of George Salmon. He was head of the university when there was a big push to allow women to join. He held out as long as he could, saying that women would enter "over his dead body". In 1904 the King decided to allow women to join and forced him to sign, he did so but said "I agree with my hand and oppose with my heart". He then made up a bunch of rules restricting women once they joined, such as only letting them enter by the back gate. By delicious irony, the old bigot had a massive heart-attack and died before the first woman entered, in the back gate over his grave.

The next square was Library Square, which contained the Old Library and Oregon maple trees planted in the 1820s, and New Square, with a nice law that only the croquette club are allow on. Since 1801 Trinity College has been a "copyright" library, meaning that they have a right to a single copy of every book published in the United Kingdom and the Republic of Ireland. To house the enormous number of books they had to build a new library, which was built in 1967 in horrible brutalist style and is called the giant concrete photocopier by students. The last square was Fellow's Square, with the arts and social sciences buildings, built by the same brutalist architect, and joining onto the Old Library again. The Old Library was built in 1712, and is the largest single room library in the world. The room is lined by busts of scientists and philosophers, and all the books are arranged not by subject or author, but instead by book dimensions, making it great for packing in books on shelves and horrible to find a book unless you know its exact size. Within the Old Library is the Book of Kells, which we then went and saw.

The Book of Kells is a partial bible with Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, all heavily illustrated in Celtic style. It is these illustrations that the book is most famous for. It was written about 800 CE in St Colum Cille on Iona, off the west coast of Scotland, by after raiding by Vikings was moved to Kells for safety. It was then stolen in 1007 from Kells, recovered two months later minus the heavy gold of the cover. In 1653 it was sent to Dublin, and in 1661 loaned to Trinity College, where it has stayed. The book is written on vellum (calfskin immersed in lime or excrement and scraped clean of fur with a knife), and took 185 calves to write. The 8th century Book of Mulling and Book of Dimma are older, but neither have the stunning illustrations. The illustrations required inks from around the known world. The brown of the written was just crushed oak apples and iron sulphate, but the colours had rare reagents in them. Blue was made by crushed lapis lazuli from a single mine in Afghanistan and by the plant indigo, native to northern Germany. White was chalk and white lead. Yellow was orpiment (yellow arenic sulphate), while red was from the Mediterranian plant Crozophora tinctoria. Kermes red was made from the crushed pregnant bodies of the insect Kermococcus vermilio, only found in the Mediterranian. Green was copper and eggwhite.

We also saw the famous harp of Brian Boru, the last High King of Ireland. It is featured on the currency of Ireland despite being made a few hundred years after Brian Boru died in 1014.

If you feel as if your mind starts to rot and cravings to travel are becoming just unbearable to deal with, here’s a recipe to treat your hungry travellers heart. Rather simple really.

Ingredients:

à Rented car; you’ll need a credit card, or cash, or a friend with these two.

à Road map (one you ‘borrowed’ from your work)

à Your camera (no way without it)

à A CD full of proper songs for road trip; recommendations: Eels- Mr. E’s Beautiful Blues, Green Day- Holidays, Tom Cochrane- Life is a Highway (p.s. the best song for a road trip), Journey- Don’t Stop believin, etc etc.

And that’s it, you’re all set. A working week has 2 days off, and they’re all yours. So on Friday, straight after work, get your stuff packed, rent a car, and off you go. Anytime the dusk catches you, stop at the first Bed & Breakfast (just don’t rush to think that “all rooms en suit”, and “FULL Irish breakfast” is actually true, but hey, what else should you expect for 35 EU).

Make sure you stop at a nice café before the noon for a portion of scones and an Irish coffee (got bless the non-driving ones).

Warning: do not think that travelling in a car means that you won’t get tired. You’ll be knackered at the end of the day!

Quick resume of the trip:

1. Goal: Killarney, Kerry.

2. Got the car on Friday straight after work. Got a B&B booked in Adare, Limerick. Left Dublin around 8pm. Arrived to Adare at midnight. Saved the whole 4-5 hours driving to the destination on Saturday.

3. 8am “full” Irish breaky, left Adare, arrived to Dingle before noon, had scones and Irish coffee.

4. Slea Head Drive. Absolutely amazing places! Had a nice swim in the Atlantics! P.S. first time ever in Ireland since all these years living in the country!!! One huge thing ticked of the TO-DO list! P.S. the most proper song to listen to full volume on the beach full of surfers and other people enjoying the magic of the moment: Dolly Parton- Nine to Five; everyone was about to clap).

5. Further destination: Ring of Kerry. Same day. Long way (P.S. Check the map). Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. Arrived to Killarney in the evening, got into the first B&B, went to the town, the first pub, got FOOOOOD, ate ON the bar, got the plate empty in 2 min 33 sec, straight to bed, dead.

6. Continental breaky at 8am. Destinations of the day: Ladies View (once again, didn’t think we’ve enjoyed that enough yesterday) at Killarney National Park, Ring of Kerry, the waterfall (not sure if it had a name), Gap of Dunloe, and the quick peak at the Carrantuohill, the highest mountain in Ireland (quick peak, because there’s not much ways to get there with a car). And also, unfortunately, the way back home.

Fast - food / fast - life / fast - society… fast travelling. Gotta get the best of every day off you get. Satisfied the biological need to travel.

Well done. I want mooooooore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We woke up this morning to mostly sunny skies and to the excitement of both a short walk and of another night stay at the Moan Laur B and B in Camp! The walk was pretty straight forward; it isn't too hard to get lost on a nine-mile trek after 20-mile days! We saw more beach. Among the beach walking, we came upon a very rancid, foul, disgusting, sulfer-stinking, stagnant puddle of who knows what. The color was a creamy greenish-white, and honest to God, we both were gagging! I managed to pull out the camera and capture Andy's expression as I have never seen that one on his face in my seven years of knowing him! Seriously - what was in there?!?!?!  At one point, we thought we had to backtrack on the beach due to the lack of markers or maybe our spaciness/conversational mood today. All we could think was, "For the love of God...I don't want to walk past the stinkhole again!" Luckily, we soon saw another marker; we were in Lower Camp! We couldn't believe how fast six miles had become!

Soon we reached the Dingle Way signposts for continuing to Annascaul, which we needed to do to get to the Moan Laur B and B and avoid highway walking. A sidenote for future hikers: Rachael and Ian from the Moan Laur will come get you from Camp Village if you wish!!!!  We just wanted to walk off some of those desserts and beers...

Anyway, we soon were at the door of the Moan Laur B and B. Ian, who was home, greeted us right away, with tea and yummy homemade carrot cake. After some conversation, visiting the ducks and chickens in the back, and exploring Rachael's organic vegetable garden, Ian drove us into Inch for dinner. We ate at a lovely restaurant overlooking Inch Strand and toasted to a hike well-walked and to Riley, our cat. Later that evening, back at the B and B, we sat on our personal deck, overlooking the Slieve Mish Mountains, listening to the ducks and sheep, planning our  next walking vacation while enjoying a bottle of red. We walked over 100-miles (our first long distance walking trip) - what a great way to end! A fabulous experience!!!

With heavy hearts (sorry for the cliche-it fits), we walked on. Luckily, today was the infamous beach walk portion of the Dingle Way. The walk, for us, was nearly 20 miles due to where our Cloghane B and B was located. Amazingly, over 3/4 of it was on the firm sands of various beaches, including 6 miles of Ireland's longest beach, the Fermoyle Strand. Really, as lame as it sounds, the sun, beach, and tranquility of the scenery was calming and therapeutic. We cried, of course, but we actually managed to laugh as well.  A few kilometres into the walk, we did a bit of a memorial for Riley in the sand. With our new walking poles, we drew a picture and wrote his name, knowing that the tide would come in that night and wash him away.

I found tons of shells on the beach! I know for those of you who live by a beach, this is not a big score! But for someone living in Wisconsin, seashells are seriously fun! I found the complete shell of a scallop, a few shiny something-or-others that will make great chunky jewelry to go around my neck, and some coral! Great fun:)

We stopped in at a pub after the first 12 miles of beach walking. It should be noted that, we sat very, very unknowingly close  to the B and B that we were supposed to stay in that evening. But, we ventured on for another 8 miles to get to our supposed location. To make matters a bit worse (although at this point, we didn't know anything was going wrong), the second part of the walk today was VERY poorly marked. We actually ended up asking for directions at a trailer park diner. Not being able to follow the waymarking signs, we ended up walking the last bit of the walk on a highway, seriously dodging cars. When we finally made it into Castlegregory, we were ready to throw our bags down, take off our hiking boots, and have a beer. Over 20 miles is a lot of walking!

So, Andy called our B and B. The hostess told us we'd have to walk another five miles of highway walking to get to her place. Say what? This would have been fine, but there was no offer to come and get us. We sat at the local pub, Ned Natterjack's, debating. The bartender told us about another place called the Orchard House. We walked to her place, asked if she had a room, and BINGO- we were set! We felt bad canceling with the other place, but we honestly could not walk any further nor did we want to walk into town for every beer for the next 48 hours. Desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess.

We went back to Ned Natterjack's that evening and managed to have ourselves a good time! There was a fabulous band, with an amazing accordian player! The food was good, there was a 3-foot tall leprechan playing a drum, and the music was lively. Speaking of which, have you ever heard the Irish version of Bob Marley's "Three Little Birds"? Amazingly, it sounded great...not to mention the lyrics were very fitting for our moods..."Don't worry about a thing...Every little thing is gonna be alright..." After such a fun night, we knew that someday, we might not feel as terrible as we did upon waking up this morning, and that one day soon, every little thing would be alright.

This morning, we woke up in good spirits to sunny skies! We ate a wonderful breakfast of Irish farmhouse cheeses and fresh fruit, and then we headed off to climb Brandon Mountain. The mountain is somewhere over 3000 feet.  The first 49 minutes of the climb were on tarmac roads, pretty much climbing straight up to a grotto commemorating St. Patrick and St. Brandon. There was also a warning at this point to bring along extra food, clothing, etc. I, of course, then wanted to head back to the B and B  seeing as how we had none of those things. Andy, being the brave warrior that he is, made me push on.

The climb was on a grass path through the mountain range and then onto Brandon Mountain. Sheep and their many piles of droppings, of course, kept us company as did many other hikers, who didn't have the correct gear either. Connor Pass and its lakes could be seen as we climbed upwards. As we climbed, the temperature dropped significantly as the fog increased. We decided to turn around at about 2700 feet due to fog and mist. It was quite lovely though, and we felt very accomplished. Our B and B owners said that the Pilgrim's Walk up the mountain is actually more beautiful than the Dingle Way segment, so we felt really good about our decision to skip the walking yesterday for this bit today.

We went out for lunch and then to check our email. I want to keep this brief despite the fact that I could go on and on about it. We received an unpleasant email from our good friend, roommate and cat-sitter. Our kitty of seven years passed away. It's really impossible to describe how much this little guy meant to us, so the news hit us as a real death in the immediate family would. Our B and B owners seriously thought we were insane as we really couldn't contain our emotions. The words we received were somewhere along the lines of, "Thank God it's only a cat, and not a family member!" I suppose for some it's difficult to understand the attachment one can have with a pet... Anyway, we struggled with going home and cutting this trip short versus staying on and finishing the walk. We're not sure whether it was the cowardice of facing the empty catbed right now or the reality that there is nothing we could do at home which helped us to come to our decision, but we decided to stay and try to make the most of our stay in Ireland. All in all, this really was the worst day of our lives thus far despite having nearly climbed our first mountain.

Abraham house is rather a nice hostel. It's relatively close to the city centre (around 10 minutes from the city centre and 15 minutes from the temple bar). It's also easy to get to the airport from the hostel, because the airport bus stop is just across the street from the hostel. It can be very noisy sometimes though, especially during the weekend, but I guess most hostels in Dublin are. The hostel has 24 hour reception and a good luggage storage where one can leave their valuables, such as laptop. The rooms are nice, but unfortunately the kitchen wasn't particularly good - it was rather dirty and both the fridge and cabinets were full. What I was the most dissapointed about though was that some people were sent to wrong rooms and they had to wake up in the middle of the night to change the bed. The staff in general was friendly and helpful - they helped me to book another hostel in Galway and gave me tips what to see in western Ireland.

The next morning I awoke after the family had risen and broken their fasts.  Paula's Ma helped me find my way around the breakfast table, again ignoring my calls that I could help myself, feeding me up, and ensuring I was more than satisfied.
   
Paula had arranged to borrow her father's car so she could drive me around the Ring of Kerry.  The day was still a little gloomy with the ending of winter so we wrapped up warm and hit the trail.

We stopped at several locations of interest around the ring and Paula was able to give me a bit of information about what we were looking at. 
    We saw a mill and a church, ruins of a castle, Abbey ruins and a grand house, we went for a little bush walk, visited an historic gravesite, and enjoyed a pint at a tiny tavern.  

Anyone visiting the area can certainly fill as day circumnavigating The Ring as we did.  We did it easily in a day but one could spend more time at the various sites and have enough to do with an overnighter somewhere on the way around.

    We also swung in too see her cousin along the way.  We had lunch with her and she joined us for the local sites and shared the duties of sharing with me the history behind the monuments.

The drive made for a good day but we didn't get back to NCW at the appointed time and Paula's Pa was not too pleased at not having his wheels as expected. 
    We blamed it on the traffic jam we'd come upon in one of the villages we passed through.  We discovered there had been great success on a football field in the village and the whole population had turned out to celebrate. 
    We couldn't blame it on traffic around the Ring itself, we'd had more trouble with sheep than cars!

Once things were smoothed over with Paula's Pa we settled down for another huge home-cooked meal with the family. 

Paula's brothers were planning to meet some friends at the local pub.  Paula and I were going along there too so I was looking forward to what sounded like it was going to be a great night.  They'd been telling me about the quality band that was to play there. 
    All four of the kids were musical as playing an instrument was just seen as a normal thing in this family.  I had heard Paula sing at Interlaken so I knew she had a great voice.  If these guys were saying the band was going to be good then I was more than happy that they knew what they were talking about.

We got there later than I had expected (or perhaps I was still confused about the days getting dark early) but the place was plenty large enough to fit us in even though the fun was already well under way.  The band sounded great (as promised)  and we had an easy path to the long bar. 
    Paula got the first round of Guinness' in and I was intrigued by the bar staff's system.  I'd just spent the past 6 months as Asst. Manager in a Bristolian pub that served Guinness so I thought I knew a bit about it.  I have to admit that the smooth flavour of the pints that night was unmatched by any pint of Guinness I'd had before, or since, and I wondered if the idea that it didn't travel well was here and now proven.

Anyway, as we neared the bottom of our first glass Paula told me to give the barman the nod for another two.  It took about 4 minutes for a pint to be poured.  I was impressed by the barman's memory, in relation to our round, and recalling the correct order of all those he was lining up in front of him.  I felt pangs of sadness that he had not been on my staff, certainly would have made my job much easier!

So there we were, Paula and I, with her two brothers and their friends; drinking, dancing, chatting, drinking, and generally having a great night but after a large meal and several pints of Guinness (which in my opinion is a meal in a glass), Chad was feeling like a bit of a lightweight.  When Paula asked if I was up for another I told her I had no room left and just had to switch to larger.

We had another couple of drinks there before Paula suggested we go somewhere else.   We walked to a small pub nearby where I got us another round of Guinness'. 
    It was a cosy place with a great fire blazing and some comfortable seats.  We slouched down into them and chatted with a few of the people in there until closing when we were tossed back into the cold to stumble home.
    All in all it was a bloody great night!