| A view
of the scenery near the Clare Inn, between the villages of Castleclare and Newmarket on Fergus.
The first morning after we arrived, we
took our rental car out on the back roads to get used to driving on the
'wrong' side; ironically, the only time we ever came close to a fender
bender was
just after we stopped to take this picture. |
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Mary in the Reading
Room of our hotel, which is where I would bring Garion for his
morning banana once he woke up around 6 am. (Breakfast wasn't
served until 7:30, so Monkey-Boy and I shared lots of 'quality time'.)
On several mornings we
encountered the night receptionist sleeping in one of the wing chairs by the fire,
which burned 24 hours a day. |
| The
Gruesome Twosome horsing around outside the main gate of Bunratty
Castle. It wasn't nearly as impressive as some of the castles we've
traipsed through in southern Europe, but cannon are still cannon and boys
are still boys. |
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Garion was
fascinated by the chickens that wandered freely around the grounds of Bunratty, and whenever
he was put down, he would usually end up at the
chicken coop (the right-most door behind him). Garion was very wary of
the white rooster—who was
almost as tall as he was—and even Alex let out a yelp and backed up in a
hurry the first
time the rooster leapt up after a tidbit of bread being offered. |
| A pair
of
rainbows just off of the Cliffs of Moher that were visible for miles inland as
we followed the twisty, narrow road towards the coastline. And yes,
our first thoughts upon seeing them were of Leprechauns and pots of gold… |
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Another photo of
the Cliffs of Moher, which tower between 400 to 700 feet above the Atlantic
ocean. This was taken in the same spot as the one above, just facing
the other direction; less than a minute later, it started hailing sideways
as another rain squall came ashore. |
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This is
a stretch of the main artery through County Clare towards the city of Ennis.
Clearly, the Irish concept of a 'major highway' is substantially different
from the American or German concept of a major highway. |
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Just one of the
dozen or more small villages we passed through on our way through the Burren. This one was very typical of the area, with the center
of town boasting three pubs and a hardware store along the main road. |
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Mary and Jacob heading towards Blarney Castle, where the Blarney Stone is
embedded in the parapets around the top of the castle. The castle is
partially in ruin, and the only way up is to climb several flights of narrow
spiral stone staircases, which will challenge even the most sure-footed
guest. |
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Alex kissing the
Blarney Stone. Just reaching it requires prospective kissers to bend
over backwards and lean down several feet below floor level. To avoid
losing tourists, a sturdy local gent assists visitors with 'assuming the
position', then hangs on while pictures are taken. Tipping is
appreciated, and ladies might want to consider wearing slacks… |
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The Gruesome Twosome at one of their favorite pastimes: throwing stones into
the Shannon River. We missed the hourly ferry between Killimer and
Tarbert by less than ten minutes, so Alex spent nearly half an hour teaching
Jacob how to skip stones. |
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At the end of the
day, that last French Fry can be just one too many… |
