Ireland: Days 3 & 4...

Sun-tanned (sort of) and plumped (definitely) with pizza, we have returned from our holiday in Italy! Hard to grasp that our last international hoorah is complete. ONLY 6 MORE DAYS until we plant ourselves permanently(?) on American soil! With another 572 photos added to my hard drive, I'm hoping to finish posting about our recent travels by the time we board our plane on Monday. I'd like to have this chapter of the blog closed in real time so that I don't have to worry about writing in addition to moving, job-hunting, and catching up with our families and friends. That's my goal. My other goal is to reach 10,000 page views before returning to the US of A. I'm about 300 shy at this point, but I think it's doable. Please keep reading! I'm feeling extra blessed that so many of you have remained faithful followers for the past nine months. Thanks a million gazillion billion.

Quick refresher from the first Ireland entry: Matthew, Tomas, and I had just finished shopping around Killarney. We met a talkative woman selling ice cream from a roadside stand, finished our cones, and jumped back in the Nissan Micra. To the wild western coast we drove with the town of Dingle as our destination.

For whatever reason, I hadn't associated beaches with the 'Emerald Isle,' but they were everywhere! Some even appeared rather tropical with pseudo-white sand and nearly-turquoise waves. This (Inch Beach) was not a tropical one, but it was gargantuan. 

The cloud coverage was pretty dense on this particular afternoon. However, the sun broke through a few times to reveal an awesome gradient of colors. I liked how the dunes, hills, and sky were stripey.

Usually I try and avoid the 'vintage' filter on my editing software (Instagram is overused), but it just fit this particular shot. Reminds me of a safari.

Scanning the beach with my telefoto lens, I came across several comical and unexpected characters. First, there were several surfers. Talk about freezing cold! A thick enough wetsuit does not exist. Plus, the 'waves' hardly deserved the name. More like ripples. Secondly, I watched as a man galloped his horse enthusiastically near the water. He dismounted, and we began looking around for his horse trailer.

No trailer, only an Audi. And a bucket of oats. To this day we have no idea how he got the horse home. I guess he held the rope out the window while the horse trotted along.

Thirdly, we observed this man (or should I say zen ninja magician) playing with his crystal ball. His routine was a mix of tai chi and ballet.

A few more miles down the winding highway brought us into Dingle. The harbor was delightful, and the town center quaint. Our hostel (The Rainbow Hostel) was only a small step above camping, but it fit the bill for the night. I got a few laughs watching the backpacking hippies on the front lawn, and we tried to set Tomas up with a group of female Mexican travelers. Unsuccessful.

The cove of the Dingle marina was so peaceful, and the reflections were captivating.

I think maybe I should live near water.

Our dread-locked hostel operator suggested a pub for dinner, and we readily hit the cobblestone streets for some grub.

I finished the meal off with a fantastic Irish coffee, and we stuck around for the live music.

This band was great! We listened for a good hour as they played traditional jigs along with a few original, contemporary tunes. The flute player had a fabulous singing voice. Very jazzy and smooth. Part way through their set list, I turned to Matthew and said, "You realize we are sitting in a pub in Ireland, right?" Reality can smack you in the face at moments like that. How did we get so fortunate?

Tapping our toes to the melody was the perfect ending to day three. The next morning, we looped around the Dingle Peninsula. It was a beautiful drive past Ventry Harbor, Slea Head, and the Blasket Islands. There was a movie set, a golf course, ancient beehive huts, and plenty of sheep.

These two were checking us out. I think we were on their turf. They're "so fluffy I could die!" (Despicable Me reference, anyone?)

I couldn't resist a flower picture. The perspective on this is kind of strange, but I was leaning over the edge of the hill/baby cliff and looking down.

Los tres amigos! What a crew. One of the aforementioned Mexican chicas took this for us. Tried tracking their car, but they evaded our stalking and got away.

We walked along one beach, and the rocks were the most curious colors. Like they'd been spray-painted pink, purple, yellow, orange, and green.

When we'd finished our loop, we cut across the middle of the peninsula, taking the Conor Pass. From the top of the pass, we got a great view of tiny Dingle.

Daingean means Dingle in Gaelic. There's the city proper in the background.

Continuing our journey, we aimed for Doolin and the Cliffs of Moher. We took a pit stop at Texaco, yes TEXACO, to refuel. Then, in order to shave a few hours off our drive time, we hopped on a ferry.

Oh, hey hubs! Ridin' dirty with bird poop on the roof.

Our GPS was thoroughly confused. It knew exactly where we were but couldn't figure out how we were managing to drive northwest through the water.

I guess since we had stumped our GPS, it decided to return the favor. Pretty sure we took the longest way possible to get to the cliffs. Matthew was tense. He yelled. It got ugly. Poor Tomas witnessed the pressure cooker that is a rental car containing warring spouses. Really it wasn't that bad, but the GPS lead us on some sketchy back roads. Eventually we arrived, paid our parking/admission fees, and walked toward the 700 foot drop-off.

This was the visitor center, which was carved into the hillside and featured several environmentally friendly aspects. Blends nicely into the scenery, doesn't it? The brand new Giants Causeway visitor center (opened today) shoots for a very similar concept. More on the Causeway during day five.

As we passed the center, the cliffs began to come into view. So did the following sign.

It reads, "In memory of those who have lost their lives at the Cliffs of Moher." A nearby poster was for a suicide hotline. It was incredibly eery to think of people jumping to their deaths, and I found that those thoughts put a damper on my experience. I didn't want to get very close to the edges after that. As you can see from the people behind the divider, there aren't any fences between the footpath and the rocky precipices.

Of course, my husband was not gripped by the same foreboding. Despite his dislike of heights, he laid with his head stuck over the edge, and claimed he felt like he was flying. (This action resulted in a tick on his neck. Could've been worse, I guess.)

I shook while scooting this close. I was in no real danger, but it still messed with my mind.

As you will see in the post about the Giants Causeway, we got a lot of use out of the self-timer. This was attempt number one. Worked out well.

And here is a shot of the tower that was over my shoulder in the previous picture. The boat helps establish the scale of the cliffs. The miniscule dots to the right of the tower are people.

The cliffs are home to numerous puffin colonies. (This got me excited because when I was little, one of my favorite animated movies was The Swan Princess. In the film, one of princess Odette's sidekicks is a puffin. If you've never seen it, you should. Classic.) The birds were way down near the water, and even my most valiant zooming efforts couldn't get a closeup picture. But you can almost make out the black and white blobs huddled on the rocks.

For those of you who don't know what a puffin looks like, here you go. Isn't it cute?

This was taken near O'Brien's Tower, so we were looking down the cliffs in the opposite direction from before. Notice the giant cave/hole in the middle. The cliffs stretch for five miles from end to end, and they face a portion of the Aran Islands. PS - Matthew held up a bouquet of grass for me because I was complaining about the lack of pretty flora in the foreground. He's so helpful.

We'd been blessed by good weather so far that day, but the clouds were moving in. They cast gorgeous patches of sun beams down on the Atlantic. Bizarre to think that Canada is on the far side of that abyss. Or maybe Greenland. I suppose it depends on how straight you swim.

Wanting to avoid the impending rain and needing cash to pay for our hostel, we drove toward the nearby town of Lahinch, following the good ol' fashioned street signs. The GPS was still on Matthew's bad list. (By the way, there is not a single ATM in Doolin, that's why we had to drive to another town to withdraw money. I was shocked that there was literally no ATM. Sure, they can sometimes be hard to find, but this was a first in my travel experience.) That evening happened to be the Ireland versus Croatia soccer game. They were playing in the first round of the Euro Cup. We went to McDermott's pub to join the locals in cheering on their squad.

I was trying to be stealthy while capturing the atmosphere so this isn't the greatest picture. Ireland ended up getting whooped by Croatia, so the mood turned fairly somber rather quickly. But I loved the enthusiasm of this older man who was decked out in his patriotic scarf, drinking his beer and watching his team lose. The place was packed with spectators who were crowded around at least three separate televisions.

After dinner we walked back up the street to our hostel. This one was also named 'The Rainbow Hostel,' but thankfully, it was a few notches higher in quality than the previous place. In the common room a fire was crackling in a peat-burning stove, and it was super cozy. (Yes, we are talking about the month of June, and it was cool enough to enjoy interior heating.) As the sun set on our fourth day in Ireland (around , God painted one of the most exquisite masterpieces I've ever laid eyes on.

I did not enhance this photo in any way. This is actually how vivid and saturated the sky was. What a treat! Deuteronomy 4:18-20 "...carefully guard yourselves so that you don't look up into the skies and see the sun and moon and stars, all the constellations of the skies, and be seduced into worshiping and serving them. God set them out for everybody's benefit, everywhere. But you—God took you right out of the iron furnace to become the people of His inheritance—and that's what you are this very day."

As we laid our heads down on our pillows, we could not have dreamt of what awaited us in Northern Ireland. We would be re-entering United Kingdom territory, but it would be markedly different from England or Scotland. During my next post, you can look forward to the mystery of the Giants Causeway and the bleakness of Belfast. Goodnight!