The Remains

At this point it has been nearly two months since we returned from our amazing honeymoon adventure. I honestly still miss Ireland every single day. It really felt like home while we were there, and the things that are different here (the Guinness, for starters!) just seem wrong now.

As we embarked on our stay in Portrush, it was Ryan's turn to write the next blog post. We kept ourselves busy though, soaking in our last few days on the Emerald Isle, and it becomes easy to put off time consuming things like blogging at the end of a long day. That being said, I am going to do my best now to try to write down the memories I have from the end of the trip before they become even more hazy. I really wanted to have this blog in its entirety to look back on whenever I feel like I needed a little taste of what Ireland was like for us.

On the morning of Thursday, 8 October we made the short 15 minute drive from our hotel in Portrush out to the Old Bushmills Distillery (they claim to be the oldest distillery in the world, dating back to 1608). Distilleries and breweries were pretty much the only way to get us on a guided tour at this point on the trip!

A woman who looked strikingly like Professor McGonnagal from the Harry Potter movies was leading our tour group. The Bushmills distillery is a fully functioning facility where all the Bushmills products are distilled. The guide was fairly strict, making sure we didn't have any stragglers and keeping us on the painted pathway (and informing us from the get-go that no photos or cell phone use was allowed on the tour). We got to see the whole process from the fermentation room through the cask room all the way up to the bottling line. Once the tour was complete we all got a sample of the Busmills blue label 12-year-old Distillery Reserve whiskey. Yum! This was, for me, the best whiskey we tasted on the trip and it is only available to visitors of the distillery-you won't find a bottle of this at ABC! We were able to get a few bottles personalized in the gift shop to bring back home to enjoy and it has been a big hit with my parents.

After departing the distillery we got back in El Bandito and drove another 10 minutes or so over to the Giant's Causeway. To say the scenery along the Antrim Coast is gorgeous would be a severe understatement. When people think of breathtaking coastal scenery in Ireland, I would imagine most people immediately envision the Cliffs of Moher, and with good reason. The Cliffs of Moher are a wondrous natural beauty, don't get me wrong, but the Antrim Coast totally blew me out of the water.

Upon arrival at the Giant's Causeway you enter the visitor centre and purchase entrance tickets. Walking out the back of the centre there is a road to walk down to the shoreline where the ground is made up of tons of hexagonal basalt columns formed by volcanic eruptions millions of years ago. Down by the shore you are can walk out onto these columns, with waves crashing in the background, surrounded by lush green cliffs. It was so beautiful and so peaceful. After walking around on the causeway for a while we decided to take the moderate hike up the side of one of the cliffs behind us to return to the visitor centre. The pathway was narrow and involved a decent set of extremely steep stairs, but once at the top the view made it well worth the effort. Looking back was all farmland, and down in front of us was the coastline and the view of the causeway from above. I would go back in a heartbeat.

Once we returned to the visitor centre we were feeling a bit hungry after our hike and decided to get some lunch before moving on to our next destination. The Causeway Hotel sits next to the visitor area and had a small pub inside with lunches available. We each got a pint of Guinness and some pies with chips and salads.

After our bellies were full we departed and headed down the road to the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge. The rope bridge was built around 200 years ago by fishermen who needed a way to get from the mainland out to a small, rocky island where they placed their nets to catch salmon. After parking, there is a 1.5 km hike to the bridge, and once there a worker regulates traffic back and forth across the footbridge. The bridge is about 65 feet long and 90 feet in the air, with nothing but waves crashing against the rocks beneath you. 

Once across there is free range to explore the small island. Looking out in the distance you can see other small islands, and looking back towards the mainland you can take in the beauty of more lush green cliffs and blue water all around. When it was time to leave we walked back over the rope bridge and made the hike back to the car park, ready to head back for our last night in Portrush.

Once back at the hotel we decided to return to the same harbour side pub I went to the night before. It was PACKED in there, to the point where it was difficult to even stand without being uncomfortably squished by other people. We got our drinks and attempted to stand at a spot near the window where there was a small ledge to sit our drinks down. Even though it was a bit early still at that point, I made my way to the back to put our name in for a table at the bistro, figuring it would still take a while for a table to be available. Thankfully, we were called only about 20 minutes later, because the crowding of the bar was really starting to wear on Ryan's nerves. We were seated at a table along the back wall and given our menus. Ryan decided to get the penne pasta chili chicken and I went for the filet steak wellington with a side of mash. Both of our meals were completely delicious, and Ryan's stomach was finally starting to feel more normal. For dessert I spotted a banoffee pie in the dessert cooler, and knew we had to get it. I had never had banoffee pie before, but it has always sounded amazing and I've always wanted to try it. The slice they brought out to us was huge, but it was delicious and we did our best to finish it.

Following dinner we walked back up to our hotel and settled in for the night. Portrush is known as almost an Atlantic City, boardwalk-y type place in the summer months, but being early October at this point it was a little on the dead side. That was fine for us though, since we had another morning drive ahead of us the next day.

On Friday morning we woke up and checked out of our hotel, loaded up Bandito and Ryan made our drive into Belfast. Belfast is one of the bigger cities we attempted to drive in on this trip, but by this point we were becoming more adept at navigating around Google maps' sometimes questionable directions. The hotel we were staying in, the Park Inn by Radisson, had a parking garage, but it was located a few blocks away from the actual hotel, so we had an interesting few minutes trying to lug all of our stuff down the street. Once we got checked in we decided to venture out to find some lunch and start exploring the city. Just a few blocks around the corner from our hotel was the Crown Liquor Saloon, a Victorian style place with amazing, private booths and, as a bonus, a strict 18-and-up policy (no screaming children!!). Ryan got a ham sandwich with a bowl of tomato soup, and I had a grilled gammon steak (sort of like a grilled piece of really thick Canadian bacon) with kale mash (sounds weird but it was SO good). We each had some coffee and Guinness to go with our meals. 

While eating we noticed we were right across the street from the Europa hotel, which while looking at bit on the old side, drew our attention because of its size. A little research showed that this hotel was once known as the most bombed hotel in the world, and if I remember correctly, still holds the unenviable title of most bombed hotel in Europe. When the Clintons came to Belfast during Bill's presidency, this is where they stayed. It was also the base for a lot of journalists who were sent to Belfast to cover Northern Ireland's "Troubles" and clearly saw a lot of action during those times. It was crazy to think that here we were, enjoying a casual lunch on our honeymoon, sitting so near to a place that just a few decades before would have been an unfathomable place to travel to...like if we decided to announce today that we were going to go to Syria for our honeymoon.

Post-lunch we set off on our journey through the sectarian neighborhoods of Belfast. While things have eased up quite a bit since the height of the Troubles, there are still working-class neighborhoods in Belfast that remain divided on allegiance to either Great Britain or the Republic of Ireland. We first visited Sandy Row, a Protestant neighborhood who proudly declare their allegiance to Britain. Union Jack flags fly over the streets, and murals depicting their Unionist point of view are common. We walked around a bit, trying to see as much as we could, but I have to admit we really didn't feel totally comfortable, especially down some of the back roads in the housing areas. 

After a little while of taking it all in, we decided to walk back towards the Europa to get a cab up to the Milltown Cemetery in the Catholic (Republican) neighborhood of Falls Road.

The cemetery is full of Gaelic crosses, the orange, white and green Republic of Ireland flag, and lots of tombs with both English and Irish writing; in other words, it looks a lot more like the areas we'd been to in the Republic. It also contains memorials to many IRA fighters, hunger-strikers, and soldiers who died both during the Troubles and during previous struggles for freedom from Great Britain.

Once we were done walking around the cemetery (it was quite large) we decided to stop into a neighborhood pub for a pint before making our way back to the city centre where we were staying. McEnaney's pub was directly across the street from the entrance to the cemetery, so we figured we would give it a shot. It may have been the middle of the afternoon on a Friday, but there were a decent number of patrons in there, and it was clear that we were the outsiders. Everyone seemed to know each other, and it definitely had the feel of a working class neighborhood pub where outsiders may draw a bit of skepticism. Everybody we interacted with was polite and cordial enough, but we both just felt a bit "off" in there and I finished my pint quickly.

As we walked back down Falls Road, we were able to hail a cab to take us back to the city centre. The black cabs in Belfast have basically a square seating compartment in the back, with the driver and front passenger seat separated by a barrier. The back has a normal bench seat where the back seat usually is, and then also has pull-down seating facing backwards, with your back to the driver. When we got in, there were two older ladies sitting on the regular back seat, so Ryan and I took the pull-downs. I got in first, and as Ryan was getting in the driver pulled him aside and told him that we were going to be taking a slightly longer route to reach the city centre because of a bomb scare. Ryan relayed this info to me by typing a note up in his phone and showing it to me, I guess not wanting to potentially scare the old women we were riding with. The old women got off at stops before the final destination though, and as we pulled into the city centre we were alone in the back of the cab. I did some quick Google research and found out that there were bomb threats for 3 areas in Northern Ireland where the PSNI (police service of Northern Ireland) were having recruitment events throughout the weekend. Apparently a device was actually discovered at the event location in Londonderry, the city we drove through on our way into Northern Ireland. I also read about a device found in a park in Belfast earlier in the year, that had it detonated would probably have caused significant carnage, according to the report. As we got closer we could see roads and bridges closed, with lots of police officers and armored vehicles blocking access. Some of the police had body armor and machine guns, which was a rare sight, as none of the Gardai we saw in the Republic of Ireland ever had firearms. 

It was a little crazy, because I realized that I honestly don't worry much about that sort of thing, mostly because when it happens at home nothing usually comes of it. Yes, bombs certainly do get planted and kill people here, but how many times are threats phoned in to the local high schools, or wherever, and it is usually a hoax. However, I felt like in Belfast, with its relatively recent history of the Troubles and ongoing tensions, people took it a lot more seriously; basically, if someone called in a bomb threat, there was more likely to be a bomb than it to be a hoax.

Thankfully, the areas that were blocked off, while adjacent to where we were dropped off out of the cab, did not preclude us from getting back to the area around our hotel. We decided that we would adopt the motto "pints, not bombs" for the evening and set ourselves up for a little self-guided pub crawl. The first place we stopped into was Robinson's, another Victorian pub located next door to the Crown. After a few pints there we decided to make our way down the street to Brennan's pub. This place was...interesting. Not very crowded, but dim lighting and one of those mutli-colored spinning lights going to make it seem very disco-y in there. In the back there was a lounge singer type woman just busting it out with one of the most cringe-worthy renditions of "Wind Beneath My Wings" I'd ever heard. Between the campy lounge singer, the weird atmosphere and the cougars on the prowl, Ryan and I decided it was Belfast's version of Atlanta's Johnny's Hideaway.

After departing from Brennan's we continued down Great Victoria Street and then looped back around up to The Bridge House, where we stopped for another round of pints. It was kind of an odd place as well, with some slot machines and arcade games in the front, big screen TVs in the back with sports on, then a long bar and ridiculously huge food menu, plus table seating and an almost-romantic fire going. It was fairly crowded and we couldn't find a good, out-of-the-way place to stand with our drinks, so we just finished our round and headed on.

At this point we were getting hungry, so we decided to scope out some places that looked like they would have good food. We briefly considered a nice-ish looking pizza place, but decided we just weren't feeling pizza on our Ireland trip. Another block down the road we found Deane's Deli and stepped inside to enquire about a table. They only had seating available in the adjacent wine bar side, but informed us that it would be the same food menu. The wine bar was a dark, intimate feeling space lit by candles on the shelves and shelves of wines, many by the proprietor's Deaneo label.

There are several Deane's restaurants around Belfast, at least one of which is Michelin rated, but this was obviously one of the more casual ones. The atmosphere was the best part of the restaurant, in my opinion. I had a glass of wine and a sesame teriyaki pasta with prawns, while Ryan had a Caesar salad with pasta as well. Ryan's salad was honestly probably the best part of the meal. After dinner we had coffees with cordials, then pressed on into the night.

We were fairly full after our meals so we decided to do a little walking around the city centre before hitting another pub. We walked up to the Belfast city hall, which was all lit up for the night and looked beautiful. After a bit more casual strolling around the city we headed back towards the area around our hotel. From our hotel we walked up to a place we had passed earlier that appeared to have music going inside. We walked in and managed to score a table near the fireplace where we could sit, listen to the music, and people watch. Unfortunately, there wasn't much traditional music being played, mostly covers of current music, but they were still decent. At the back of the room there were some doors with frosted glass windows. Ryan thought he saw another bar back there when another patron went through the doors, so he decided to go check it out. He reported that there was another bar, but that it didn't seem much more lively or have a session going. We decided to stay put for the time being, but I needed to use the restroom, so I headed back through the doors into the other bar. Once in the bathroom, I thought it looked familiar, and then I noticed in the stall there was an empty pint glass sitting in the exact same location as in a previous bathroom stall I had visited that evening. Upon leaving the restroom, the door was also a little tough to open, similar to another experience that night...it was at that point we realized that the "new" bar we were in was just the back of the Robinson's bar we had started the night out at. Oy.

At this point we were getting a little tired and weren't having much luck finding a bar with any good sessions, so we decided to head back to the bar at our hotel to wrap things up. Talk about dead. We were one of about 3 people in there, and despite the DJ's best efforts he was the only one into the music. We finished one round there and decided to call it a night.


The next morning we woke up and decided to get "brunch" at the Crown Saloon again. We started with our morning usual of coffees and Guinness, while I had bangers & mash and Ryan had fish and chips (kind of our usuals). 

Upon finishing, we asked the bar staff for the best way to get to the Titanic Belfast exhibit; we were debating between walking or taking a cab. They advised us the walk "wasn't that bad" and said it would only take about 10-15 minutes...well let me tell you something about the Irish and their sense of time. 10-15 minutes by an Irishman's estimation, at least in our experience, should be at least doubled, maybe tripled if you want a realistic expectation for how long you're going to be walking. With that in mind, we decided to take a cab, which turned out to be an excellent investment. The cab driver, quickly realizing that we were Americans, started to ask us about what we had been up to in Belfast. This led to Ryan telling him a bit about our love for the pubs and sessions, which led to the cab driver pointing us in the direction of some lesser-known pubs with more authentic sessions. After he dropped us off at the Titanic exhibit we purchased our tickets and walked through. The exhibit is relatively new and has a lot of interesting bits. It leads you from the textile and steel industries in Belfast, to the earlier days of shipbuilding, up to the construction and maiden voyage of the Titanic and her sister ships. There are replicas of the 1st-, 2nd-, and 3rd-class rooms to view, letters that were written from passengers on the Titanic, transcriptions of audio recordings made after the ship encountered the icebergs, and biographies of those who both survived and died in the sinking. The museum relies a lot on technology to help recreate what it was like to be on both the construction side and the passengers' side, and it was the first exhibit I've been to that had a full-blown gondola style ride inside to take you through a day in the life of some of the workers. From one point you can look down outside to see the area where the Titanic was dry-docked during her construction. Overall, it was definitely a worthwhile experience.

Following the exhibit we immediately wanted to go and check out some of the pubs that the cab driver recommended to us. Sure enough his "5-10 minute walk" back over the bridge turned into about a 30 minute walk, but it was a nice enough day. After we crossed the River Lagan our first stop was at a pub called McHugh's. We went in and ordered our pints, and just as we were settling in at the bar we started to hear a session starting up in the adjacent room. We walked back and were able to snag a table near the action right as another couple was departing. There were 3 or 4 tables set up in a row, and a group of musicians were all sitting around with their instruments warming up a bit and discussing what to play. Guitars, whistles, pipes, accordions, bodhráns, fiddles...you name it. People would jump in and out, get up for another round or to have a smoke, whatever...it just seemed like the way a session was really meant to be and seemed like a much more authentic experience for us than some of the other places we had been. We were in love with it!

A few rounds and many songs later, we decided to move on and check out some of the other places we were recommended to go. We walked down to Anne Street to Castle Lane, and eventually came upon the Fountain Tavern, where the rugby match between Australia and Wales was on. Ryan of course was going for Wales, but unfortunately they weren't able to pull off the upset in that game. From the Fountain we went up and around the block to Kelly's Cellars, which was specifically mentioned as a great place to see a real session by our cab friend.

We made our way in to the bar and it was packed and tiny, with low doorways and close quarters. We got our round and managed to, once again, luckily find a table to share with some girls who were there. Once again the session was just a huge round table with a bunch of musicians who had gathered with their instruments to play several rounds of traditional music. Another thing that made McHugh's and Kelly's such an enjoyable place to watch the sessions was that the patrons seemed to respect the music and actually wanted to listen instead of just shouting over it constantly. Yes, plenty of people were still chatting and going in and out, but a lot of people were actually enjoying the music.

While sitting there we met a few people at the tables around us, including a guy named Eamon who I'm pretty sure tried to pawn his older, drunker friend off on us. At this point though we were a bit more skilled at dodging the town drunks, so after a few minutes of polite conversation we were able to redirect him =) We were having a great time at Kelly's but our thirst to hit as many unique, authentic spots eventually won over and we decided to move on. We ended up at a spot called Madden's, which was a bit more dead as their session wasn't going to be on until later in the evening. Walking in, it was immediately clear that Madden's was a very Republican bar, which shed some light on why we had to be buzzed in the door to enter. They had a little black and white CCTV up on the bar that showed the front entrance, and whenever someone wanted to enter the bartender had to buzz them in. I couldn't decide whether that made me feel safer or if it made the place seem a little more risky. Kelly's seemed fairly Republican as well, and was only a few blocks away from Madden's, and did not appear to have any security beyond the standard doorman, so I wasn't sure what the difference was. Either way, we only stayed for the round as the place was fairly dead and wouldn't be picking up for another hour or so.

Following Madden's we decided to return to Kelly's for a while longer. After a few more rounds we were getting sleepy and knew we would have to be up relatively early to make the drive down to Trim where we were spending our final night in Ireland. We were reluctant to leave though, because we knew it was our last night in Belfast and most likely our last "real" night out in Ireland. Eventually we threw in the towel, got some McDonald's (don't judge) and went back to our room.

In the morning it was drizzling a bit, one of the few times on the trip we had any type of rainy weather. We walked around for a bit looking for some breakfast, but there weren't too many places open at that time of the morning on Sunday. We ended up just grabbing some food and coffee from a Starbucks near the Europa. Since it was rainy and the car was still in the garage several blocks away, I went to get the car while Ryan stayed with our bags in the lobby. The garage, while lively during the weekdays, was pretty much cleared out for the weekend. I was pretty pleased, as backing El Bandito out of the tiny space Ryan parked him in would have been a bit stressful for me without another pair of eyes to make sure I wasn't going to hit anything! Once we were on the road the drive out of Belfast was easy and we were on our way south, back towards the Republic of Ireland.

Our first stop was meant to be the Brú na Bóinne passage tombs at Newgrange and Knowth, just under an hour and a half from Belfast. We pulled up and made our way to the visitor's centre, only to find out that the next available tour was about 2 hours away. We decided we would sign up for the tour at Newgrange, as it is the only one of the two tombs that allows visitors inside. After getting our stickers for the Newgrange tour, we headed 15 minutes down the road to the Battle of the Boyne site so that we could keep sight seeing while we waited for the tour to start. The battleground is the location of the fighting in 1690 where the British Protestant forces were able to defeat the Irish Catholics to establish Protestant rule over Ireland and Britain (thanks to Rick Steves for refreshing my memory on that!). Nowadays, the site has a visitor's centre/museum housed in the estate built on the grounds, which contains some replicas of the tents used for shelter during the battle, some of the weapons and cannons used to fight, and also features gardens in the back. As for the battlefield itself...the grassy field and trees provide some natural beauty to admire, but that's really about it. Perhaps for some Battle of the Boyne enthusiasts it is more meaningful, but to the average tourist there's not much to see.

Once we were done exploring the Battle of the Boyne site we returned to the Brú na Bóinne site for our tour. We loaded on to buses for the 15 minute drive from the visitor's centre to the Newgrange tomb. Once there we were given a brief summary of what we currently know about the tombs, as well as information about the restoration of the tombs. The tombs date to 3200 B.C. and up until the past century the tombs were essentially just grassy mounds, and vandals could come and go as they pleased, taking items or leaving graffiti behind (although it IS a bit cool to see graffiti dated to the 1800s, even if the vandal was defacing ancient tombs). Now the tomb has been reconstructed to appear as some historians believe it to have looked originally (though not everyone in the field agrees with the current reconstruction-some think it to have originally looked another way altogether).

The tomb is perfectly aligned facing east-west and above the main entrance is a "sun box" which allows the rising sun to take its own entrance on the winter solstice, briefly reaching and lighting the center of the tomb on this morning.

 
After the tour inside the chamber we were allowed to walk around the outside area on our own for a bit before re-boarding the buses to take us back to the visitor centre.

My last time driving our little beep-beep

From here I drove another 45 minutes or so to the town of Trim, where we checked into our bed and breakfast, the Highfield House. The building was previously home to a maternity hospital, but has now been converted into a beautiful B&B. After getting checked in and situated, we walked down the road to the Trim Castle. Unfortunately, the interior was closed for the day at this point, but it was a dreaded mandatory guided tour anyway, so we weren't too disappointed. We wandered around the outside of the castle walls, over the bridge spanning the River Boyne, then up the hill to explore the remains of the sheep gate and the St. Mary's Abbey.

While exploring the remnants of the castle and abbey, we knew the rugby world cup match between Ireland and France was getting started, and we really wanted to watch it on our last night Ireland. While wrapping things up at the ruins of the abbey, we heard a huge cheer erupt and echo off the hills from one of the pubs nearby. This was our cue to end our sightseeing and get to a pub for the match! There was a pub just across the street called McCormack's with the windows open and the crowd inside sounded lively. Ireland had just scored a try, and even though the place was packed we were able to find a seat at the far corner of the bar, where Ryan could share the end of a booth with some other spectators right behind me. As the game went on and we had a few pints, the old guy next to me started a casual conversation in between moments of action. His name was Johnny Bligh, and he was a regular at that bar and a regular at that seat-there was a plaque under the bar in that spot dedicated to him.

He was a character, and at 80 some-odd years old a bit easy for some of the other locals to make jokes at. Johnny found out we were on our honeymoon and immediately insisted on buying us a round. Ryan later bought Johnny a pint in return, and when he said "a Carlsburg for this gentleman" the bartender took one look at Johnny and said "that's no gentleman!"

As we decided we were good luck for Irish sports teams, Ireland won that match against France and everybody in the bar was celebrating. After people began to clear out, Johnny too had to leave (his son was there to pick him up). Soon enough some other people started talking to us and insisted on buying us more pints. At this point we were already out later and drinking more than we planned on, seeing as how we had to be awake at 6 AM the next day to drive to Dublin for our flight home. But how could we turn down the opportunity to have a few more drinks in Ireland?! Eventually we really did have to get going though, and we still needed to find something to eat for dinner. There was a restaurant across the street by the castle called Franzini's that came recommended by Rick Steves, and had the added benefit of still being open for dinner service. I had a Bulmer's and the seafood pasta tagliatelli, while Ryan opted for Penne la Checca and a Bulmer's.

After dinner it was back up to our room at the Highfield House for re-packing and prepping all our bags for the trip back to the US. Our bags were stuffed tight! When the alarm went off at 6 the next morning it was up and at 'em. We got some to-go scones fresh from the oven from the lovely owner of the B&B and got on the road back to Dublin. It was morning rush hour on the motorway, but it still only took us about 45 minutes to get to the rental car return. I was so sad to drop El Bandito back off, he served us so well on our journey and was so patient with his American handlers! We think of him often, usually when trying to accelerate up a hill =)

Back at the airport we were informed that we needed to be processed through American customs pre-clear at the Dublin airport by 10:05. What that means is after we go through normal airport security we have to go through the international terminal down to where the US has its own CBP station set up and go through another round of security. Carry-ons through another scanner, us through another metal detector/body scanner, then a passport check and turning our customs forms in to the CBP agents. After that, we were in a small terminal with only flights to and from America, and almost nothing in the way of bars or restaurants. The proper international terminal had all sorts of nice-looking places we could have had a breakfast or drink at, but since we had to be through American customs by 10 (our flight didn't leave until noon) we didn't really have time to stop anywhere in there. So instead we posted up at this little bar in the middle of the walkway through the "American" terminal and had one last round of coffees and Guinness before it was time to board the plane.

As our plane took off over Ireland it felt like the three weeks we spent there were both an eternity and a blink of the eye. I have never felt so at home and so comfortable in another place-I just felt like Ireland was meant for us. In three weeks I had just enough time to get accustomed to how things work over there, both the subtle differences and the not-so-subtle differences. It was enough time to feel even more of a bond with the Irish culture than we did before through the music. At the same time, I couldn't believe that the trip we had been planning and looking forward to for almost a full year had come and gone so quickly. I just hoped that I had appreciated each moment I had there enough. I kept looking out the window until the western coast disappeared under us and the Atlantic Ocean was the only thing left to see. When we touched down in Boston I kept expecting the people around me to have an Irish accent. We grabbed a quick airport lunch at the Legal Seafood test kitchen in our terminal, and ordered Sam Adams Boston Lager. It was disgusting to us! 

After three weeks of nothing but Guinness, Murphy's, Beamish, Smithwick's, Crean's, ciders, etc. we were not ready for the hops heavy American beer to hit us. It was an even nastier shock when we eagerly scooped up a six-pack of Guinness from Publix, cracked it open, took a swig and.....oh my god. It really does taste different here! It was so disappointing. Thankfully, the Murphy's in the draught can is marginally better, probably the closest thing we have in America that is easily accessible, and we've been going through Publix's supply of that stuff (I've been working on a pint or two of that as I've been typing).

When we got back to Orlando my dad came to pick us up from the airport, and it was even a little weird driving on the right side of the road again (that lasted a few days, it was a little scary). My mom met us at our house with our three babies, who were a little hesitant to exit their carriers at first but were soon happily snuggled up with us on the bed. It was good to be home with them, but for the next several nights I kept having dreams that I was back in Ireland and woke up confused, not knowing where I was. People ask about how the trip was and whether we had a good time, and it's difficult to put into words how amazing the experience was. I definitely can't wait to go back and see Ireland again!

Hills of Connemara

We have done a lot of travelling over the past week! On Saturday morning we had one last breakfast at the B&B in Dingle and then packed El Bandito back up. We had one of our longer drives ahead of us, so we decided to split it up. Ryan drove us out of Dingle up to Tarbert, where we caught a ferry across the River Shannon up to Killimer. Neither of us had ever driven onto a ferry before, so it was a unique experience for us both. Once safely across and in Killimer we switched seats and I drove us the rest of the way up to the Cliffs of Moher.

What can one even say to attempt to describe the Cliffs of Moher?! It is one of those things in nature that there are just not adequate words for. We got there around 3 PM or so, walked up to the trail that runs along the cliffs and started to hike South. With the way the sun was hitting, when we looked back towards where we came from everything was illuminated and lovely. There were tons of other tourists right at the start, but the further we got away from where the main trail left the visitor centre and car park, the thinner the crowds became. We hiked along to one of the higher vantage points, stopping every so often to turn around and admire the view and snap a few photos. The jagged rocks, the waves crashing waaaaay down at the bottom and the lush green all around us was amazing. 

As we got to the top of the area we planned to hike to we stopped to take in the view and savor the moment. We were taking more photos and I caught something out of the corner of my camera lens a little ways down from us. A young couple was having a tender moment, but what made me do a double take was that I noticed the guy take his right arm of his lady and move it to his back pocket. He only had it there a second, but then he kept his arm bent back around behind him while continuing to love on his girlfriend. Was he going to propose?! Indeed he was, and even though I felt like a creep, I zoomed in on them and continued to take photos as he got down on one knee and asked her to marry him. Before everything that has happened in the past year I would have thought "Oh, that's cute" and moved on. Now that I've been through an engagement/proposal, I know how precious those moments are and I wondered if they had anybody taking photos for them. The photos my mom took immediately after Ryan proposed to me are so full of emotions and memories, and we love to look at them. We started to hike back down the trail and as we got near the couple, I asked if they would like me to send them any of the photos I took. It turns out they are from Poland but have been living in Belfast for a few years now. I showed them the snapshots I got on my camera and the girl gave me her email address so that when we get home I can send them the shots. They seemed quite happy that someone was able to capture the moment, so I felt like slightly less of a creep =)

After we finished our hike and made it back to Bandit we were starving. We were pretty over the visitors' center cafeteria scene, so we decided to make the 15 minute drive to Doolin, where we were staying the night, to find food. Something I didn't mention earlier; when we use Google maps and I'm driving, it seems to take us down the most narrow, winding, sometimes unpaved back roads it can find. On our way to the Cliffs of Moher our regular route was closed, so after some U-turns and map-searching, Ryan found an alternate route that literally seemed like it was a narrow path through someone's backyard. There was grass growing up in the middle of the lane and everything, and every time some local in a minivan or truck came barrelling through I did my best to get out of the way but those people don't fuck around. They'll just keep on plowing towards you, and somehow it always works out. One guy did back up and pull over for me, which must mean that road was REALLY narrow and even he knew there was no getting around each other. Anyway, point is, as we were leaving the Cliffs the same thing happened. Google maps routed us down this super steep, super windy back road into town, finishing up over a one-lane bridge on a blind hairpin turn. Sheesh. 

We found our B&B up a small hill behind the main row of (about 5) businesses. The guy who runs the place told us he had to take an emergency trip to Cork and wouldn't be back to check us in until about 6 PM. We wandered back down the hill after parking and grabbed a bite to eat at a place called Gus O'Connor's pub, which used to be owned by the B&B owner's dad. Ryan had fish n chips and I had banger & mash...I scarfed that food down in record time! We finished our pints of Guinness that we had with our meal and then made it back up the hill to check in. 

Of course, there is a story here as well. The front of the B&B was a glassed-in area with several tables that seemed to be the "breakfast" part of a bed and breakfast. The door to this part, which was previously closed when we initially arrived, was now open as was the sliding glass door behind it. The sliding glass door had several Tripadvisor stickers and Failte (Ireland's tourism board) stickers on it, as you might see on the entryway to any hotel or B&B you were staying in. Being as both were open and did, in fact, appear to be leading into a business, we went on in. A man was sitting on the couch chatting on the phone, and though he semi-glanced in our direction as we walked in he didn't really acknowledge us or seem to want to wrap up the conversation. At this point I was genuinely confused. Was he a guest? Was he the owner? Was this the check-in area or just the sitting room? Ah well, there was a dog laying there so I just went to pet it until I could talk to the man and see if he knew where to check in.

Couch man finally wraps up his conversation, and greet us with "Do I know you?" Uhhh...no? I ask if he is Sean (the B&B owner who I have been exchanging emails with) and he replies "Didn't you hear the man on the phone, everyone calls me Sean." Okkkk, no, I wasn't listening in on your conversation, but fine, I'm Lisa. You've been expecting us, no? At this point he stands up and a look of recognition crosses his face, but he still proceeds to "give us a hard time" about how it's not proper Irish manners to just walk into someone's house. Wellll I see your point, but your house is a fucking B&B that I'm paying €85 to stay in, and every place we've been to so far has a main door, usually with the name of the place and business/review site stickers on it indicating that it is, in fact, accomodation, and we've never been expected to just stand outside an open door and knock so...piss off. He showed us up to our room, but not before INSISTING on helping with our bags and giving me a hard time for how big mine was. Listen, you bastard, I already said I could get it myself (AKA give it to Ryan...love you babe!) so if it's too much for you to handle just let it be. No, I'm not going to "just pack an overnight bag" out of my main suitecase for every different place we stay. That's absurd.

Needless to say we were both less than impressed with our new host and pretty much couldn't wait to get back out of there. Once up in our room he continued to be a blowhard for another good 10-15 minutes (listen, the Irish gift of gab is generally charming, but when you are telling us story after story about your best friends who are all doctors or lawyers, your son's full academic scholarship to whatthefuckever University and stories about the area that are just blantantly not believable, we're over it). We finallllly got away from him and walked back down to the town. The initial 5 or so shops we saw were all we thought there was at first, but turns out if you go over the 1 lane bridge and down the narrow, unlit road with no shoulder you can find another 2 pubs. Also should mention it was the coldest, windiest night we'd been out yet. If you couldn't tell yet, Doolin was not our favorite stop on this trip.

The first place we went was called Fitzpatrick's pub, where we each had a pint of Guinness to start. After those we decided to try the local offerings. I had a pint of the Dooliner, an Irish ale on nitro. Ryan asked how it tasted, and I said "Like dirt." He thought maybe I meant it was earthy, but then he tasted it and said, "Oh yeah...like gravel." Ryan decided to take a Falling Apple cider, which was billed as a local cider, but tasted about as good as my beer. Ugh. We decided to go look for the other place that lovely Sean recommended, but per the maps seemed a good ways down the narrow, dark road. Being as we were both freezing and didn't really want to get hit by a car (and that it took us a good 15 minutes to reach Fitzpatrick's, which was billed as a 5 minue walk by old Seany boy) we decided to turn back and return to O'Connor's. This was a good call. After walking back by the light of my iPhone flashlight (OMG first world problems allll around in this post--maybe we were just tired and cranky?) we got a spot at the bar at O'Connor's. We each got more food (bacon and cabbage with mash for me, BLT for Ryan) and pints, and settled in for the session that was on that night. Honestly, for all the other perceived shortcomings of Doolin, the session was the best we've seen so far. It was a wooden flute, an accordion, a guitar and a bodhrán (round traditional Irish drum). They were very good and the Irish couple next to us was pleasant to chat to. 

Despite wishing we could stay all night and listen to the session, we knew we had an early morning and another drive ahead of us. We called it a night and went back to the room, deciding to skip breakfast so we wouldn't have to deal with Sean anymore. Unfortnately, he still came to knock on our door and ask us if we were coming to breakfast the next morning. Not so easy to dodge him! We re-packed our stuff and got it all down to the car, then went to pay our bill and GTFO. While paying Sean wanted to chat again, of course, and started mapping us out a nice, long drive through the Burren. Honestly, at this point he wasn't so bad. He was genuinely trying to be helpful and make sure we knew how to get the most out of our drive to Galway, seeing all the sights of the Burren and some lesser known spots for great view. He was still being kind of a blowhard (some story about his great doctor friend removing his appendix, and how he still left the hospital that night to go have dinner and drink wine-yeah, you're not the kind of patient we're thrilled to have) but he was at least trying to be a good host. 

Since we didn't want to spend our whole day driving to Galway, we decided to to a modified route of the lengthy, winding course Sean plotted out for us. We saw some of the Burren and pulled off at one particularly scenic vista. It was really a pretty fun drive while we were out in the Burren, lots of winding roads but a bit wider than some of the local roads we'd been on and not a lot of traffic. 

We made our way into Galway, found our hotel, and got some lunch and some pints of Guinness. We just went to the little hotel restaurant since we were hungry and didn't want to spend a lot of time searching for and deciding on food. We each got the prime rib and mash, which was decent enough. After our meal we decided to just take a leisurely walk around Galway. We popped into a music store Ryan found, went through Eyre Square park, walked around a bit of the shopping district, and checked out a local cheese monger. After a little while we were getting thirsty (naturally) so we decided to stop in for a pint at a place called Garavan's. 

The Ireland vs. Italy rugby world cup game was due to start at 4:30 and we knew we wanted to find a good spot to watch it. We got here 2 weeks ago never having watched a rugby game, but having been here during the world cup, when it is always on and everyone is super into it, has started to make us fans. Still don't understand everything, but we're getting better. Anyway, Garaven's only had 1 tiny TV, so we relocated up the street a bit to a place called Garvey's. This place had several TVs on, but it was straight up elderly in there. A bar called An Pucan, just 2 doors down from Garvey's and directly across from our hotel, was recommended to us, so I went down to check it out. It was madness in there! Pure gameday atmosphere in there. We quickly decided to move to that bar just in time to catch the opening minutes of the match. We ended up staying there the whole game and had a fun time. Ireland won, so it was a good day! 

After the match we went back to the hotel and had dinner. Ryan was starting to feel a little worn out, so we decided to call it an early night. The next morning we woke up early, got the hotel breakfast included with our room and were out the door to catch our bus to start our trip out to Inis Mór, the largest of the Aran Islands. The bus ride lasted an hour, then we got on a ferry at Ros a Mhíl for another 45 minutes till we reached the island. Once on the island I noticed my stomach was a little upset. We scarfed down our breakfasts, plus I had a coffee on the ferry, so I figured maybe it just needed a little time to settle. And no, I wasn't hungover-we're professionals, and I know the difference between a few too many pints and something more. As we started hiking around the island the queasy feeling went away, and I didn't think any more of it. We walked along a beach, found a doggy friend who walked a ways with us, got to pet a few friendly horses along the road, then hiked up a hill and walked back along a main road. We also stopped in at a sweater shop (the Aran Islands are known for their wool products) and found some nice things to take home with us. On our way back we stopped at Tí Joe Watty's, one of the pubs on the island, for some lunch. 

This is when things took a turn for the worse for me. I ordered the Irish stew, and as soon as I took a bite I knew I was done. I had to have Ryan move it to the other side of him so I couldn't see it, and I don't rememer what he ate because I was trying not to look at any food. Despite the intense nausea we still had to make it back to Galway, and the only way to do that was back on the 45 minute ferry, and then the longest hour on a bus I've ever experienced. So bad. As soon as we got back to the room it was into bed for me, buried under 2 blankets but still shiverng, and Ryan was off to go try to find me some ginger ale. 

The night went by slowly for me but I finally got some sleep, and although I didn't feel 100% the next morning I did feel better. Thankfully it was Ryan's turn to drive. The drive was to be just under 3 hours from Galway to Donegal, but Ryan was able to make pretty good time. I think we already explained the road types in another post-the roads we took from Galway to Donegal were all N roads, which are the national roads that are similar to 2-lane highways at home. It can still vary somewhat though-you could get an N road that is still super narrow, windy and bumpy. These roads were AMAZING. Most of the way was super wide, well-paved, relatively straight, overall just easy driving for Ryan and easy navigating for me. Like I said, we made pretty good time. It was one of the few times we've been able to consistently go at the posted speed limit here. We joke about it because we'll be on a road that seems reasonable and the speed limit will be lower, like 60 km/h or so, and then as soon as it goes up to 100 km/h there will be a sharp, blind turn that would be impossible for us inexperienced American drivers (or anyone, it would seem) to go that fast around.

Once in Donegal we pulled into our B&B (Donegal Manor) and got ourselves checked in and situated. I was feeling a bit hungry for the first time since The Illness so we decided to go into town for a stroll and some lunch. The B&B in Donegal was the only place so far where we've been outside of the main city centre area, so we had to drive down and find a pay-to-park spot, which thankfully wasn't too difficult. We grabbed lunch at a place called the Castle Bar, where I had chicken curry (oddly it was really the only thing that sounded appealing, though I still ended up not having much of an appetite) and Ryan finally got bangers & mash. After we were done eating we decided to go to the Donegal Castle, which was really the only attraction we knew of in the town. Aaaaand it was closed. There was a printed out sign stuck on the main display board that said "closed Tuesday and Wednesday" and of course it was Tuesday. Damn, just our luck. With no other apparent options we decided to kill some time walking around town. When we were done with that after about 5 minutes we stopped at a place called Doc's Bar. There was one other local in there talking with the lady running the bar, and they were speaking in Irish mostly, so we just kind of kept to ourselves and sipped our pints. After the local left the bartender got more interested in us and we chatted with her for a bit. She told us that she has 3 children, aged 29, 30 and 31, and they are each getting married next year. Jesus. What an undertaking!

From Doc's we walked back to a tiny music shop Ryan spotted on our walk earlier to browse around. Ryan loves to go and look at the traditional Irish instruments and lust after bodhráns, and I like to look at the books of traditional Irish music they usually have. When we were done in there we walked back around the diamond (really more of a triangle, the main little loop in the center of town) and decided to check out a place called the Reveller. They had rugby on TV (Canada vs Romania, Romania won at the last second after Canada was up most of the game) so we decided to stick around a while. As evening fell another rugby match was on, Uruguay vs Fiji this time, but watching that game was short lived as a session was beginning and the TV was switched off. No complaints here-I'm learning to like rugby but I'll still take music any day! It was two guys playing, one on accordion and one on guitar, with the guitar player singing. The only complaints I have about music so far in Ireland: 1) American songs, especially American classic country songs, seem very common (at least in the tourist areas we have been to) and 2) Whiskey in the Jar. Every. Single. Time. Listen, I know...it's a classic that even your most sheltered, hopeless tourists probably know, but JESUS we probably can't even count on our fingers anymore the number of times we have heard it. So anyway, after a round of Whiskey in the Jar and a few Johnny Cash songs we decided to call it a night and rest up for our day today.

This morning we woke up on the early side and went downstairs for breakfast. We both had full Irish, though neither of us really had an appetite at this point. We loaded up Bandit and it was my turn for the long drive today. Our first stop was Glenveagh Castle and national park, just under an hour and a half from Donegal. We decided not to tour the castle itself as there were only guided tours, and we've learned from experience that being trapped on a guided tour when you're not feeling well is misery (see bus ride from Aran Islands). Ryan started feeling like he was getting The Illness on the drive, so we didn't want to risk it. We instead settled on a 2 km hike by Lough Beagh and over a hill. It was an absolutely beautiful hike, but unfortunately Ryan only started feeling worse and worse as we went along. By the time we got back to Bandit it was all he could do to try to keep his eyes open to navigate for me; I totally understood how miserable he was having just been through it myself, but I also really couldn't run the map and drive on my own, so thankfully he was able to hold it together...he was a trooper.

The drive from Glenveagh to our current location, Portrush, took us from the Republic of Ireland into Northern Ireland, which is still part of the UK. The border crossing was wholly unceremonious; no passport check, no line on the road, honestly not even a sign stating that we were entering another country. However, once over the border, several things change. Road signs and distances are all in miles and miles per hour (El Bandito's spedometer is only in km/h, so some on the fly converting was done), the currency switches from Euros to pounds, accents become thicker and expressions I've never heard before are thrown around, then translated to "American" when they see the blank look (I wish I had an example to give, but at the moment I'm tired and can't seem to recall any of them). 

Ryan guided us successfully into town and to our hotel (a Ramada right on the water) and promptly ran himself a hot bath to try to break his fever in while I went out in search of food for myself and a Gatorade equivalent (Nitro+ sport? Best I could find.) I found a great little pub called the Harbour Bar right by the pier where the barman Willie welcomed me in for a pint while I waited for the bistro to open (it was only 4:30 but we hadn't had lunch and I hadn't had much of an appetite still at breakfast so I was ready for some dinner!) I sipped a pint of Guinness and chatted with Willie, a few locals and a few other tourists (who were all more local than me). Everyone was very warm and easy to talk to. Once the bistro opened I took a seat at the bar there and ordered the seafood thermidore and the baked tomato and mozzarella salad. So good! The place smelled amazing, there was a big open wood grill in the kitchen, and the menu looked yummy from start to finish. Hopefully Ryan gets to feeling better so I can take him back there tomorrow!

So now we're just back in the room, trying to get some rest and sleep off whatever bug has worked its way into our honeymoon. I only started feeling fully recovered this afternoon, but I'm hoping Ryan will at least be feeling functional by tomorrow as we have a full day of exploring the Antrim coast ahead of us. Time for bed!

Last day in Daingean Uí Chúis

So, Lisa described quite a bit in the last blog. Oy. Now it's my turn to have the task of getting us all caught up over the last few days; so here goes.

We slept very well over the night. Probably the best since we have been away from home. As probably mentioned in previous entries, it is usually kind of warm for in each room and we weren't really able to get the temperature comfortable enough previously, but this room gave us some assistance. Windows. That and since the building in on top of rather tall hill, it always had a nice breeze. We were finally able to get comfortable and sleep well. This was important too because we planned to drive the Sli Cheann Sleibhe or The Slea Head Drive to you and me. This is a very narrow road with two-way traffic. It's more like someones paved driveway but it yields some of the most breathtaking scenery we've encountered and as some of the Irish say, it is some of the best scenery in Ireland. This route contours the southwest portion of the westernmost part of Europe, the Dingle peninsula. Although the drive itself may only take an hour or so, since it is only about 26 or so miles, one still needs to budget about 4 hours for the adventure. There are so man places to pull over, snap some pics, take in the scenery, and my favorite part, hike some trails. We did plenty of each. 

We found ourselves parked at The Blasket Centre. It is kind of a museum that honors the people that eeked out a living on the Blasket Islands not far off of the coast from where we were. The islands were inhabited up until 1953 and was very Gaeltacht. The musuem was very quick to point out and honor many literary folks from the islands.

We thought it would be wise to grab a lunch before we set out on a rugged trail such as this was one was to be. The cafeteria was highly recommended by Rick (Steves). Lisa opted for the special, an open face smoked salmon plate with a typical Irish salad. I had the herb crusted baked cod. They both sucked. The were edible and they were sustenance, but they tasted like shit. The cod was soggy and Lisa's "special" was basically thin-sliced smoked salmon on lightly toasted bread. Time to hit the trail.  

The trail that we went on (which was suggested by our very generous and helpful host at the B&B, John)is called Siuloid na Cille. It started in front of the Blasket Centre and looped its way  to end beside it. It is a 5 kilometer trail that requires a bit of physical fitness as we both found out. We learned that there was a school house built along the trail that was used for a 1970's film Ryan's Daughter. Ha. We were wondering why many of the pubs around town were flying this movie's posters in different languages. Anyways, the trail began as a long, uphill hike that traversed through a tiny village. I think it was a village. Well, there were a couple of houses here and there. The trail started out as a paved road that eventually began more and more deteriorated until it eventually became a rocky path. The next thing we knew we were looking and a breath-taking panoramic view of the peninsula. I noticed a foot-worn path to my right and saw that it lead up even further to the top of the hill. I couldn't resist. Climbing it proved to be breath-taking. Both literally and physically. At some parts I had to recruit both of my hands and slow my roll or I'd definitely be revisiting the bottom fairly quickly. As I walked to the apex I felt a rush of complete awe. The view was just endless. Everywhere I looked I saw shadowy silhouettes of humbling mountains. In front were green hills speckled with gray and white rocks. Behind me lie the craggy coastline highlighted by crashing white and silver waves as the Atlantic stretched for an eternity beyond that. It was windy and cold but entirely inspiring. At that moment, I think I gained more insight and understanding of Irish expression. The way the land's muse speaks to those that listen.

Lisa ended climbing up to the top to meet me. We snap a few pictures and took in all in. Descending was definitely easier, as one could imagine. Just had to slow down and be careful. 

We ventured forward on the trail which lead to the coastline for pretty much the rest of the hike and much to Lisa's delight we were able to encounter a few sheep. 

By the time we got back to the Blasket Centre (which is were we had parked and started the hike) we were ready for another meal. Just not at the Blasket Centre.

We drove a short distance back into Dingle. Parked ol' Bandit back at the B&B and walked down the hill to a nice place called Ashe's B&B for dinner. Lisa had the foresight to make reservations there and as we walked in we where immediately seated. We changed up our drinking routine by having some white wine with dinner. Being that Dingle is a fishing community we assumed that we were both going to get seafood to pair with our wine. Well, I shifted course and just really felt like having red meat. It was a English beef (sorry, I don't remember exactly) that was served with onion rings and large cut chips. It was very good. Lisa's dish...whoa man. It was beautiful, smelled amazing, and tasted even better. It was a baked hake served with prawns and mussels. Underneath it all was a type of coastal/aquatic plant called samphire. It was delicious all on its own. We were both very impressed. Remember folks, samphire.

After dinner, it was out for drinks and music. Seriously becoming quite the norm for us. No complaints here! We pretty much ended up at the same two places we had been the night before,  An Droichead Beag then next door to The Mighty Session. We had to wait a little bit before the music was to start because there was a rugby match on. In Ireland, apparently everything else will wait. Once the match was over the musicians made there way to he reserved seating area. It was two lads probably in there 20's. One played banjo and the other guitar. They were very good and lively. Lisa had notice an older lady with a bottle of whiskey, sharing the sprits with other folks sitting at the bar with her.on this night there was an accordion player that was accompanied by a guitar player. Lisa needed to use the restroom, so she offered to get us each another round of Guinness since she was getting up. After she dropped off the pints she left for the toilets. Right about this time I see the same whiskey lady, her lassies, and one fellow make their way in front of the musicians. They begin to clear all of the tables and chairs. I realized at this time that the rest of us were about to witness some authentic Irish dancing. Oh shit! YES! The music started and as did the dancing. It wasn't River dancing. This was choreographed foot-stomping and spinning that was fueled by "the life of man". This was amazing. It was loud, lively, and intense. I couldn't wait for Lisa to get back to witness this. 

 

The group danced to about three songs total. They then grabbed their coats to promptly move on to the next pub. Evidently, that is how it's done in western rural Ireland. 

Lisa and I finished our pints and decided that a change of scenery was a good idea so we tried to find perhaps a new pub we hadn't been to yet. Nope. We'd been to all of them pretty much. So we circled back around the block and decided to head over to The Mighty Session. Before we got through the doors we could tell that those dancers were in there. They were as loud as the musicians. On this night at The Mighty Session there was an accordion player that was accompanied by a guitar player. They were both awesome as well. It was our last night in Dingle and it was an awesome send-off. Up next, The Cliffs of Moher and Doolin.

Get your drinking boots on

It's been a few days since we've had time to update the blog, which must mean we are having fun and staying busy! There's quite a bit to catch up on. Ryan's last post left off on our second day in Cork City, so that's where I'll pick back up from.

Our second day in Cork was Tuesday, September 29. We didn't really have much on the agenda for that day. Our buddy Rick (Steves) suggested a few sights in Kinsale, which is roughly 45 minutes south of Cork. Neither of the sights sounded particularly worth the hassle of moving the car, so we decided to take a leisure day. When we were planning this trip one thing that was important to us was having down time and having time to relax, not constantly feeling like we were rushing from one sight to the next, so this was actually perfect for us.

We started the morning waking up leisurely and wandering out for some "breakfast" around lunch time. We went back to one of the pubs we went to the night before called The Oliver Plunkett and Ryan got his usual (fish and chips-now for breakfast!) and I had a chicken and chorizo pie, accompanied by some delicious breakfast pints.

Once our meal was done we started to wander across town towards the university campus. Along the way we took in some Cork scenery. We walked through the Bishop Lucey Park and then crossed over the River Lee to admire the Saint Fin Barre's Cathedral. The cathedral belongs to the Church of Ireland and had beautiful architecture from the 1800s. 

After looking around the church we continued to make our way down to University College Cork. The campus was absolutely stunning with lots of fall foliage on display. The neighborhoods around the campus were your typical college area and we saw lots of students hanging out between classes in the quad. It did make me feel slightly old, and I wondered what I would have thought of some random foreign tourists stopping to take pictures all over my college campus.

As we made our way back towards town we visited the remants of the Elizabeth Fort. Thankfully free to enter, there really wasn't much to it. We climbed up to the top level and got some nice views of the city around us and the houses on the distant hills, but there really wasn't much else going on. 

After all this walking we were obviously getting quite thirsty. We walked over to the English Market area to peruse the stalls. The English Market is a large, covered food market where you can find everything from baked goods to fresh eggs, lots of fresh produce and plenty of butcher stands with seemingly every kind of meat imaginable. Next door to the market is the Mutton Lane Inn, another of Cork's heritage pubs. The building seemed ancient and was lit almost entirely by candles. We enjoyed pints of Beamish and plotted our next moves.

We decided to run back to the hotel for a bit to rehydrate (with actual water) and put our feet up for a bit. Once we were recharged a bit we headed back out for another heritage pub stop, The Oval. After pints of Murphy's at The Oval we decided we were getting a bit hungry. We found a place called the Cornstore, which looked to have some decent items on the menu. They claimed to be the number 1 rated cocktail bar in Ireland, and seemed to think this made it acceptable to charge €13.50 for an old fashioned. Um, no. Sorry. I settled instead for a Stonewell cider, which turned out to a great pick. It is a dry craft cider from just down the road in Kinsale, where the apples go all the way from the tree to the bottle. Delicious. For dinner Ryan had a quinoa salad and the cod special. I had the fishcake and "crab toes" (just the tip of the claw, basically) and curry chicken. My curry was pretty good, but everything else was just OK. Coupled with how pretentious the place seemed, we were overall unimpressed. Oh well, at least it filled our bellies. 

Following dinner we walked across the River Lee to a heritage pub called Sin é, which in Gaelic means "that's it" in reference to the funeral home next door. They are supposed to be well-known for their trad sessions, but unfortunately the session didn't start until 21:30 and Ryan's stomach was upset. We decided to call it an early night and headed back to the room to pack up and rest before our drive to Dingle in the morning. 

When morning arrived we got ourselves all packed up and ran out for a few more groceries to take to Dingle with us. We got a quick lunch in the lobby of our hotel and got on the road. It was Ryan's turn to drive again, and he said this drive was actually quite nice for him. Not much traffic, generally easy roads and incredible scenery. As we navigated the roads leading us out onto the Dingle Peninsula we were in awe of the beautiful rolling hills, the green countryside and the harbour waters outside our windows. 

We pulled into the outskirts of town, and even though Google maps did try to get us lost AGAIN, we outsmarted her with real directions from the owners of the B&B we were headed for. Take that, you crazy hooker. Like Ryan said, I don't know what it is, but the navigation does just fine all the way up until we get close to our destination, and then she just loses her shit. Anyway, we pulled into the parking lot of the B&B and were immediately in love. The place is called the Greenmount House and it is perched on a hill overlooking the city of Dingle and the harbour with its marina. Hills and cliffs and mountains and just...too beautiful to even put into words. On top of this, the family who runs the place are incredibly sweet and immediately welcomed us with coffee, cookies and cakes in our room. I could totally get used to this. The view from our room is incredible, and we spent probably the first 30 minutes or so taking a million pictures and selfies so we could show everyone back home just what they were missing out on =)

Around this time we were starting to feel a bit hungry, so we made our way down into the town and found a few places along the harbourside. We decided to go to Murphy's pub (not to be confused with the 2 Murphy's ice cream shops, placed literally less than 2 blocks away from each other). We got some pints of Crean's lager, the local lager made by Dingle Brewing Company and named after Irish hero and Antarctic explorer Tom Crean. We both got fish & chips for lunch, which we enjoyed thoroughly. 

On our walk into town we saw a local hardware shop by day/pub by night (Foxy John's) advertising a 5 PM session, so we decided to go check that out. We walked in and it was a younger girl singing quietly but beautifully, accompanied by an older gentleman on the guitar. When she wasn't singing, the girl played a wooden flute. We got a couple of pints and listened in for a while. We wandered around a bit more, and noticed that this is the place of temperature extremes. During the day the weather has been beautiful and the sun shining-it gets up into the upper 60s, which is warmer than what we've been used to thus far on the trip. However, once the sun starts to drop the temperature quickly falls into the mid 40s, which coupled with gusty wind is quite chilly. We walked back up to our room to watch the sunset over the harbour and put on some warmer jackets. 

Following that we decided to look for another pub to kill some time in before we went looking for a trad session, which start around 21:30 here as well. We went to a place called Dick Mack's (referenced in a line from a Gaelic Storm song we love) for a pint and hoped for some conversation with locals. Unfortunately, Wednesday was to be the night of unfortunate locals. There were several people in there who looked to be weather-beaten and who were already quite drunk and yelling obscenities at one another (partially in jest but also maybe a little more serious than I was comfortable with). We finished those pints rather quickly and decided to just go ahead and go to the Court House Pub, where we knew there would be a session. 

Upon arriving at the Court House it was completely dead. Like, us and one other person dead. We figured we would stay a while and at least have a good seat when the music started, and if it sucked or never picked up we would just leave. While we were sitting there, the one other customer started bullshitting with us and the bartender said something like "that's Charlie; he's a fisherman and he works hard and plays hard." This Charlie fellow seemed friendly enough, and we carried on a converation with him for a while, covering plenty of topics from his children and grandchildren to local art shops. He was drinking consistently throughout, and he started telling us about how when the music starts he always dances because he has a connection with his now-deceased grandmother who always took him to pubs when he was younger. Uh, ok? He also mentioned at this point how at previous sessions he had been asked to leave because he was in love with a girl who didn't love him back and he's written 4 songs about her. I didn't quite follow this logic, but whatever.

So the music starts. It's 2 guys, one playing an accordion and one with a guitar. Pretty lively. Charlie gets up to go outside, and he was gone for a hot minute. When he got back inside, a woman had taken his seat next to where Ryan was sitting. So Charlie commences dancing. Whoa. Like spastic interpretive dance moves, with a drunk flair. We're watching the show and keeping our pints refilled, so I kind of lost track of Charlie again for a while. Next thing we know he tells us he's getting kicked out and he'll be out back. I have no idea what happened-I'm not sure if he was just getting too drunk or his dance moves were annoying people or if something else happened, but either way at this point we were glad to be rid of him. 

The session continued for a bit and then the musicians took a break. Ryan and I were enjoying it but wanted to see if there were any other good sessions on anywhere else. We walked outside and crossed the street, having decided to go check out the session on at An Droichead Beag (Small Bridge Bar-Dingle is a Gaeltacht region, which basically just means they try to primarily use the Irish language instead of English to help preserve it). Just as we are getting to the other side of the street Charlie comes flying up towards us, super happy to have found us and asking us if we want to play pool. Uh, no. Sorry buddy. God only knows where we would have ended up. We walk into a bar called the Mighty Session, just trying to get rid of him. He follows us in and before I can even make it over to the bar to order the barman is out from behind the bar kicking Charlie out. Victory!! We spotted 2 empty chairs at a table with a few people sitting at it, and asked if we could join them to listen to the music. 

We sit down and during breaks in the music exchange pleasantries. It turns out the older couple next to me is from north of Galway (Achill Island) and the woman sitting next to Ryan is from Maine. The gentleman of the couple owns a bar, but all the rest of us were nurses. Weird coincidence. The couple leaves to meet up with a friend elsewhere in town, and now it's just us and the Maine nurse, who was wasted. She insisted on buying us a round of drinks (who would say no to that?) but then started in on a story about how she was here with girlfriends celebrating her 60th birthday (she said that part about 75 times) and that they had left her to go to some other bar. At this point I was starting to see why they left her. In an effort to not hear her drunkenly tell the same story over and over again instead of listening to the music, we decided to go back to our original plan of checking out An Droichead Beag. We walk in, get our pints, and who do we see again but Charlie, who immediately spots us. We finished the pints and decided to call it a night, since apparently nowhere was safe from weirdos that night.

Yesterday morning (Thursday, October 1) we woke up and were a little worse for the wear after the night before. We ventured down the hall for breakfast at the B&B. I got the full Irish (the best version I've had yet, by far) and Ryan got the special, which was a poached egg, smoked salmon and hollandaise sauce over a slice of brown bread. Both delicious, and both served with some much needed coffee. 

After breakfast we came up with our plan for the day. We decided to start with a walk up the hill behind our B&B to the Dingle Brewing Company where we did the self-guided tour. Honestly not the best brewery tour we've been on in my opinion, but it was kind of cool to learn about the building's history as a creamery. Plus we got a pint of Crean's to enjoy while we walked around the building so...not a total waste. 

Once we were done at the brewery we stopped to pick up more bottled water to keep in the room. Ryan had the unpleasant task of lugging a cumulative 12 litres of water up the long, steep hills that lead back to our hotel room. After that we headed back down to the harbourside for lunch. We tried a place called John Benny's Pub, where I got the seafood pie and Ryan had a beef and Guinness pie. The food was decent, and we were ready for our next adventure. 

We had a tour at the Dingle Distillery booked for 4 PM, and at this point it was about 3. With not much else to do we decided to take a leisurely stroll out towards the distillery, which is on the opposite edge of town from where we were. Unfortunately, everything here is fairly small so we were still about 30 minutes early. We relaxed and soaked up some warmth at a picnic table out in front of the distillery while we waited for things to get going. 

When 4 PM finally rolled around the tour got started. The guy leading the tour informed us that he is usually one of the distillers, but the tour guide wasn't there that day so he would be leading the tour. This turned out to be a huge bonus for us. On previous guided tours of distilleries or breweries, the guide is usually hired for that job-guiding. They don't tend to be people who have actually worked as brewers or distillers, which basically means they are following a script of what to talk about instead of actually going over the process from first hand knowledge. Our tour guide at the Dingle Distillery was very thorough and knowledgable in a way that only comes from experience. Once the tour was over it was sample time! Since the distillery is only about 2.5 years old, there was no whiskey available to taste yet. Under Irish law, whiskey must be matured for 3 full years after distillation before it may legally be called whiskey. This means that Dingle Distillery's first batch won't be available until December of this year. So what does a distillery do to make money while waiting for their whiskey to be ready? They make vodka and gin, of course!

In the sample room we each got to taste their vodka and gin, which were both delicious. I don't typically enjoy vodka very much and I love gin but wouldn't normally drink it straight. These were both amazingly smooth and easy to drink straight though. We also got to taste the "whiskey spirit" which is the product that comes out at the end of the 3rd distillation but has not yet been aged in a barrel. It is strong! It smells like tequila in the glass, but if you pour a small drop out into the palm of your hand and rub your hands together the alcohol will evaporate and leave behind a yeasty, bready smell (since the 3 ingredients in whiskey are water, barley and yeast). It was an interesting extra bit of tasting we hadn't ever gotten to take part in before. 

By the time we got out of the tour it was just after 5 PM and we still had a hike we wanted to take out to the lighthouse at the mouth of the harbour, which is on the opposite side of town from the distillery. We knew we had until about 7:30 before the sun would set, so we headed out in search of the trail. We discovered that when they say a "small footpath" in the Irish countryside they really mean a rocky trail through several cow pastures (complete with grazing cows in the middle of the "trail" and lots of fresh cow poo). We squeezed ourselves through small openings in rock walls and slipped past gates, all while being comforted that at least if we were trespassing there were several other people on the trail who would go down with us. 

When we made it out to the tip of the trail we found a small beach with a few dogs who were having a great time frollicking at the edge of the water. We were also able to see Hussey's Folly, a tower apparently built for no real purpose by someone with too much money back in the 1800s. As we headed back into town the sun was drifting down in the sky and everything around us was getting that lovely glow and beautiful color you tend to see in the evening light. 

We made it back into town and we were starving! The first place we checked into eating was an all-seafood restaurant called Out of the Blue, known for using only seafood that was brought in fresh by the fishing vessels that morning. Unfortunately, they were packed and we were informed by the hostess that the first available table wasn't until 8:45. Uh, no. Not gonna work. We moved on to a place called Sheehy's Anchor Down, which was recommended by a local earlier in the day. We got inside and it smelled delicious. We were seated immediately, but not given any menus. Weird, but ok. The restaurant was almost completely full, and lots of parties seemed to be getting their food or wrapping things up, so we knew the staff was busy. Also, service tends not to be as immediate in some places here as it is in America, so we've learned to give them a little bit of a grace period. As the minutes passed I started to notice that the staff didn't seem to have any idea we were there. One girl stood right next to our table, kind of looked around like she was wondering what to do next, then started setting up a table across the aisle that had just been bussed. Okkk, time to leave. 

We walked back down the road to the Dingle Bay Hotel's restaurant, as we noticed their menu looked decent when we walked by earlier. We decided to eat at the bar just to get things moving along a little quicker. Ryan got vegetable soup to start and I had the seafood chowder. One thing I love about Ireland is you usually get brown bread and delicious Irish butter...yum. For dinner Ryan had fish & chips and I had pasta with prawns. 

After dinner we walked back up the hill to the Mighty Session to watch more music. The session there was two older guys, one playing the uilleann pipes, the other on guitar. It was fun to get to watch the pipes played up close, but it was busy in the pub and there were so many people talking it was hard to properly hear the music. We decided to finish out the night at An Droichead Beag where two younger guys were playing a session with an accordion and a guitar. They were a little better to listen to and the crowd was a lot less noisy over there. We stayed for a bit and then I was starting to get sleepy so we came back to the room and called it a relatively early night.

Whew, ok that's all for now. I'm going to let Ryan take it from here!