Since I was chastised today

It has been a good month since I updated this little spot. I was swamped with classwork from one of my summer classes. After spending 4-8 hours working on the computer for class, I wasn't too involved in goofing off on the Internet. I finished the classwork on Monday last week and teachers reported for work on Wednesday. So, I've been a bit distracted. I promise to get things caught up around here though.

When last I wrote, we were in Quebec City. It was a nice trip although I think 8 days is too long for the city. It would have been nice to be able to spend some time in Montreal as well, maybe split the trip between the two places. But since there was a specific reason for being there (Paul's conference), it wasn't possible to do that.

Getting home was an adventure of epic proportions. We had to be at the airport at 4:00 a.m. on Sunday for our 6:00 a.m. flight to Newark so we got up at 3:00 (1:00 a.m. NM time). Our flight was delayed about 20 minutes in Quebec because some genius forgot to fuel the plane. We already had a tight connection in Newark between customs and security and this wasn't helping. We landed in Newark, ran through customs, and then waited about 20 minutes for our bags. So far, we were OK but then we did the worst thing possible. We actually listened to someone at security. The first security person told us to go to the next gate because it was closer to our gate; at that gate, the security person sent us back to the first gate where once we got in line, they closed one of the lanes so that only one line was open for security. We knew at that point we were screwed. We managed to beg our way through security and grabbed a cart. We got to the gate 10 minutes before the door closed but after they'd given away our seats.

We were confirmed on the next available flight--at 6:30 the next evening. It was 8:30 in the morning. The lady at customer service kept telling us "We've done all that we're required to do" when we asked about other possible flights. We even asked about getting us to Denver, thinking that at least that was within driving distance of home. No such luck, "We've done all that we're required to do." Whatever. I told Continental customer service here that I would have been less frustrated by the whole thing if she'd even offered us a piece of paper that had been copied 700 times and was barely legible with local hotel, shuttle, and restaurant information on it. Instead, Paul asked the other person at the counter if there was WiFi (we both had our laptops) and we set off on the task of finding another flight home.

This is where we messed up. I wish we'd taken about 10 minutes to just gather our thoughts. We were still so frustrated and had gotten hung up on getting to Denver that we didn't even think to look for other flights to ABQ. There was a Delta flight from Newark to Denver leaving at 11:30 and so we set off to find the Delta counter which was at another terminal and involved leaving security and taking the airport train over to it. We got the flight and through security with no problems. About midway through the flight between Newark and Minneapolis, I asked Paul why we hadn't booked a flight to ABQ. As soon as we landed in Minneapolis, we started calling Delta to get on a flight to ABQ but we couldn't change our flight without going to customer service and we didn't know if we'd have time.

So, we boarded the flight to Denver hoping we could get on a Southwest flight to ABQ but knowing we could drive is nothing else. We knew we didn't have seats together on this flight but had just planned on asking the flight attendant to change seats or just not sit together for 2 hours. As we were boarding, the gate agent told us we'd had a seat change--"and these are better"-- and handed us our new boarding passes. I was so tired and out of it that it didn't even dawn on me that seats 1 A and 1 B are in first class. I asked the flight attendant is numbering started over in coach. :) It doesn't and it would have been great to enjoy the seats if we knew what we were doing in Denver.

In Denver, I frantically finished the midterm exam that was due that afternoon (a mix of procrastination and it taking longer than I thought to complete) after we checked with Southwest. There was only 1 seat available on the flight to ABQ. So, as I was working, Paul was calling every rental car company about getting a car, telling our sob story to all of them. They didn't care but we were finally able to find one company that would let us drop off in ABQ (for a pretty fee). We finally set off for ABQ about 4:00. We finally got to ABQ about 1:30 a.m. Monday morning which if you do the math means we were up for over 24 hours. To say we were exhausted is an understatement.

All of this was because 1) we wanted to get home and 2) I had a doctor's appointment at 8:30 on Monday morning that we didn't want to cancel/change. More on that later. After the doctor's appointment, we returned the car and retrieved our luggage. I went to customer service to get the credit for our flights--explaining our sob story to them. They apologized but I don't know. I guess I would think they would want to do something to keep us happy customers. Then again, they also know that there are two other butts that would fill those seats. In the meantime, we've got some flight credits on Continental that will only cost us $150 to use.

So, that is how we got home from Quebec. And happy to be home we are.

limericks inspired by Limerick

As I mentioned in my post about our time in Ireland, the tour guide had us come up with limericks to be read as we drove to Limerick. I don't know if she had thought of this before she heard Mom and me discussing it but I told Paul that I was taking credit even if she'd already thought of it because I think she bogarted my idea.

Now, I have never claimed to be a great writer of poetry or fiction (or even a great writer of blogs). I had a VERY generous creative writing professor while in college (it was a required class which is the only reason I even attempted it). I think she passed me only because my sentences were grammatically correct. Heaven knows it wasn't because I was a stellar writer. Throw in the fact that, as I always tell my students, I'm much funnier in my head and I present two limericks I wrote on the bus. I gave Paul author credit because even though he didn't really help, he was pretty patient as I repeatedly asked, "what rhymes with _____? What about this? Why won't you HELP ME?!?" (Oh, and these are edited to remove the name of the tour group which is why the first line isn't totally rhythmically correct.)

In Ireland while on a tour

We wandered from pub door to pub door

A few pints of bitter

Another--I'm no quitter

Bloody rubbish! Why am I on the floor?

In Ireland while on a tour

Uneven steps made walking a chore.

In Blarney, a slip

Did cause us to quip,

"Faulty tower! Don't mention the war!"

And if you are so inclined, here is the link to the book we created of our trip. It has more/different pictures than what I've shared here.

A couple more things

So of course we were enjoying listening to the accents of the "foreigners" in the UK and Ireland. More than once we would overheard people in our group repeating something said by Danny or Linda or the guides we had in Dublin and Edinburgh. I know I did it. What was funny was to hear them giggle about what we said. When we were on the Forth Bridge, Mom said something and used the word "appreciate" which is pronounced "uh-pree-she-ate" in our world. I'm not sure how it's said in England but it tickled Ann when she heard it and she repeated it several times. Maybe it was just the Texas twang that did the trick.

And boobie magazines are available for sale with all the other magazines and aren't hidden in plastic bags or behind the counter. Paul took a picture of one of the teenage boys in our group (who was such a good sport anyway) holding one of the magazines (we posed the picture). Later, Anthony found us to let us know that he'd seen someone getting on the ferry just buying the magazine like it was nothing.

Part Three: Scotland

Our day from Dublin to Edinburgh (June 28) was mostly spent traveling either by bus or by ferry. It was a long day and tiring just because of all the sitting involved. I've never understood how sitting can wear one out but we were all beat by the end of the day. While we were waiting for the ferry to Larne, we were in a little shop buying Cokes and candy (my new favorite Lion bars). There was a display of crisps (what we call chips) in an assortment of flavors. Some flavors aren't so bad--vinegar and salt, black pepper. Others such as roast ox and prawn caused us to shudder. We both opted not to try those. In Larne, there was also a book donation place where you could pick up a book and leave a donation. Since I had already made it through the two books I'd brought on the trip, I took advantage and picked up a British chick lit (The Secret Lives of Husbands). I've read books by various British authors but they are the Americanized version so this book was particularly entertaining to read. I attempted one crossword puzzle while in the UK and decided that as I wasn't up on my colloquial English speech, I was best left to doing the crosswords I'd brought with me. And for the record, I need at least three long books on a 12-day trip (I read 3 long books and 1 short book on this trip--it's a long plane ride and we were on a bus a lot).

Anywho, we left Larne on the high-speed ferry, arriving in Cairnryan, Scotland.


On the way to Edinburgh, we stopped in Alloway, Scotland at the home of the poet Robert Burns, perhaps best known for writing "Auld Lang Syne." Sure, he wrote some other stuff but I'm not sure the general populace knows anything else by Burns. Then again, I'm not sure the man on the street could identify Burns as the author of that song we sing every New Year's. I'd probably heard that tidbit but I'm fairly certain that before this trip, I could be counted among the masses of unknowing revellers.
We saw lots of small, odd cars but this one in Alloway caught our eye so much that we crossed the street to check it out. It's a SMART car but more like a SMART SUV (I couldn't find anything about it on the website for SMART cars). I'd drive it if it wasn't standard shift that required using my left hand to shift. I can barely shift with my dominant hand--it would probably be ugly if I had to try it the other way.
We opted not to go into the Burns cottage but wandered over to Brig O' Doon instead The River Doon
Here I am standing in the middle of the Brig O' Doon. No witches chasing me a la Burns' "Tam O' Shanter"(which I did know from some class I took as an English Lit major although I didn't make the connection with Auld Lang Syne and Burns) and given how rough the cobblestones are, it's a good thing since I'd probably hurt something. I think everyone I spoke with ended up with a wrenched knee from putting their foot down wrong at some historically uneven place.
The rest of the day was spent on the road as we drove to Edinburgh. We passed through Glasgow and I learned that people from Glasgow are known as "Glaswegians." That's pretty much the extent of my Glasgow knowledge and this is pretty much all we saw of Glasgow.We made it to Edinburgh in time for dinner before heading to the hotel for the evening. Our hotel was next to the Edinburgh Zoo but unfortunately, time didn't permit a visit. (Well, time permitted but we're too cheap to spend $25 each when we'd have only been able to stay two hours.) The next morning (June 29), we enjoyed some haggis with the Sunday brunch at the hotel. Perhaps "enjoyed" isn't the correct term. It's not exactly BAD but just knowing what it is made it unpleasant. One of the shops we stopped in on the way to the Lake District had haggis available for purchase, either in cans or jars or in the sheep stomach. We passed.
After breakfast, we went to Edinburgh Castle. It's on a hill overlooking the city of Edinburgh and it's location means it is cold and windy. Then again, this was the "height of summer" and it was only in the low-60's so I think it's safe to say it's always cold and windy in Edinburgh. The castle is an impressive structure, though. The Scottish War Memorial built after WWI.
The Scott Monument (for Sir Walter Scott) from Edinburgh Castle. This was a big dark Gothic structure--it was actually a little scary looking.
Looking out at Edinburgh from the Forewall Battery.
At Edinburgh Castle, there is a cemetery for military dogs.

After our tour of Edinburgh Castle, we did a short driving tour of the city. Unfortunately we weren't able to visit Holyrood Palace because the queen was in residence. She only spends two weeks in the summer at Holyrood and it just HAD to coincide with our trip. But along the way, we did see this statue in honor of Highland soldiers.
And Robert Louis Stevenson's birthplace which is now a private residence. As we drove by, you could see a mother and two little ones sitting down to eat breakfast.
We also stopped by the statue for Greyfriars Bobby. The story behind this pup is that he was so loyal to his master that after his master died, Bobby stayed at the grave until his own death. Paul, ever the pessimist, said it was probably because a widow visiting the cemetery brought him treats. There is also tales that the dog would spend winters in a nearby house and was fed at a nearby pub. But it is still a sweet story especially since my cat would probably dance a jig on my grave.
After lunch, our driver Danny took us, my parents, and Sheri and Jesse on a private bus tour to the Firth of Forth to see the Forth Bridge. The Forth Rail Bridge (right) is over a century old. In front of the Forth Rail Bridge.
Danny's wife Ann came up to Edinburgh from their home in Newcastle. She spent the last two days with us on the tour which probably helped Danny keep his sanity in regards to the tour guide Linda. We were at a cafe (tearoom) next to the Forth Bridge and this was nice because it wasn't inundated with other tourists. I know that most every place we went was a "tourist trap" so I wasn't surprised or upset. But this was a nice break and we were surrounded by locals enjoying the "warm" summer day. It was a nice way to pass the afternoon, sitting in this cozy space, drinking tea and eating a HUGE meringue cookie, visiting with new friends, trying to figure out what new friends were saying (we'd gotten our food but my parents and Sheri & Jesse hadn't yet. Danny told me to "go check on ye Mam's dish" and it took a second for my brain to translate "ye Mam's").
After we'd finished our snacks, Danny thought it would be fun to drive us across the road bridge, much to Ann's chagrin. She's not very fond of heights or the fact that when you look out the window, you can see straight down to the water through grates on the side of the road. I'll agree that that is a little unnerving. To get to the bridge from the car park, we had to go through a little town on this tiny, barely one lane road in the huge coach. I was impressed more than once with Danny's ability to get the coach down these itty bitty roads with cars parked on both sides. He can probably turn the great big bus better than I can my Subaru. There were several times that everyone on the bus would be holding their breath while he steered us through a tight spot and then everyone would start applauding for him when we got down the road. A little shower came up as we drove across bridge, which I think only added to the excitement/fear level.
We passed the rest of the afternoon with naps and then taking the bus to Princes Street, walking around that area and the Royal Mile before dinner. While we didn't exactly mind the food on this trip, by this point both of us were longing for something "American." During our wanderings, we found a restaurant called The Filling Station which seemed to be like Chili's or Applebee's here--it had the kitschy stuff on the walls, similar menu items. The menu touted it's "famous Filling Station fajitas" with it's "south of the border" flavor. Now, knowing that south of Scotland is England and it's not exactly known for its fajitas (plus it came with "spicy barbecue sauce" on the side), neither of us ordered that dish. Instead, we went for the very American hamburger and fries (which were actually called fries and not chips). After we finished eating, we headed back up the Royal Mile in search of a little pub where we could have a pint and watch the EuroCup finals because by this point, we'd watched two matches and I'm sure we had a vested interest in who won (Viva Espana!). On the way up the street, we snapped another picture of Edinburgh Castle from Princes Street. The pub was also a nice place to pass time until we went on the Witchery Murder & Mystery Tour.
This is probably my favorite picture I took on this trip. It is dusk (about 9:30) and this is the church on the Royal Mile. It's all arty and pretty--like I know what I'm doing with a camera.
Almost our entire tour group participated in The Witchery Tour which is an off-beat, humorous look at Edinburgh history. It's a walking tour through various back alleys and streets and the guide who is a "ghost" named Adam Lyal (deceased) tells the various tales of what was done to people accused of being witches, the body-snatching that occurred, all about the general muck and mess of old Edinburgh when chamber pots were merely thrown out into the streets (blech!). While on their roamings before the Witchery Tour, Mom and Sheri bought matching scarves with sheep on them. One of the teenagers from MD on our tour wanted to know exactly when wool scarves are needed in Houston. Well, there is that one day of winter each year. . .

Along with Adam Lyal (deceased), there is a "jumper-ooter" which is pretty much what it sounds like. This helper, dressed in his Black Plague garb, disappeared shortly after we got started and everyone just had a sinking suspicion that we'd see him again. And we did.
The tour begins with an explanation of the handling of witches in Edinburgh. Guess who got chosen to play the "witch"? Let's just say it's hard to blend in with a bright green coat on.  I inadvertently stepped on one of the guide's jokes when he asked me where I was from.  After I replied Albuquerque, he said "I'm sorry" and I replied "Me, too." Here I am modeling thumb screws for the group. I laughed that my dad the banker (with three daughters) was able to immediately identify thumb screws. So I had to deny being a witch, in which case the thumb screws were tightened and our guide would tell more of the story. He did this a couple of times and the third time I denied it, playing into his humor, he commented that it's only an hour tour and would I just admit it? Throughout the tour, there were also little innuendos and double entendres or as one of the teenagers said, "The sex jokes were really funny!"
And Paul and I appreciate that even in Edinburgh, shops are given good pun names.
Throughout the tour, the "jumper-ooter" comes out of various hiding places dressed in various garb appropriate to the tale at that point. For example, when the guide is talking about the dumping of chamber pots in the street, he comes ruining out as a crazy lady slinging a bucket of (thankfully only) water. The next time he appears is when the guide is talking about body-snatching. We'd walked over to an alleyway and Paul and I had taken a few steps up a staircase to better see/hear the guide. He commented not to go too far up since we didn't know what could jump out. We should have known then that something was coming. In fact, we discussed that the "jumper-ooter" was probably behind a piece of wood leaning against the wall. Then I started listening to the story and forgot to watch that piece of wood. And when the "skeleton" jumped out from there, I pretty much jumped out of my own skin. I know I pushed by Paul, cleared three steps in one bound and was heading to my dad who was nearby to hide behind. The next time we saw him, he was a much less startling "Mad Monk of The Cowgate."
At the end of the tour, you can pose with Adam Lyal (deceased) and the Mad Monk. The guide offered "choke poses." Someone said I should put the thumb screws back on. So I did:
Our group caught a bus back to the hotel. Paul stood in the middle of Princes Street to get this picture as we waited.
Our last day (June 30), we left Edinburgh to head to the Lake District in England since we were leaving from Manchester on July 1. Outside of Edinburgh is Rosslyn Chapel, of DaVinci Code fame. I'm sure the neighbors are less than thrilled about the masses of tourists that it now brings:
The chapel is surrounded by scaffolding and the roof is covered in an attempt to dry it out. Because it's always damp and an ill-advised earlier preservation attempt, the ceiling had been covered with moss. That was cleaned and the roof cover put in place to give the inside a chance to dry out. People can walk around the edge of the scaffolding and get a look at the chapel and scenery from all angles.
From Roslin, Scotland, we headed to the Lake District which is serene, idyllic location.
We made a side-stop at a private garden that is available for tours. This is only one tiny part of the garden. It's huge and beautifully maintained. There is a donation box by the front gate for visitors and all donations are given to charities. I wish I'd taken a picture of the handwritten sign in the window telling how much was donated to various organizations in 2007.
From here, we headed to Moffat for lunch and then to Grasmere, a lovely little village. The car park is near a school. I love the signs in the UK:
In the village centre, Mom bought some Kendal Mint Cake which the area is famous for--it's similar to the inside of a peppermint pattie. Since none of us were particularly interested in more shopping, Mom, Dad, Paul and I wandered across a bridge to a little path by a stream. We were skipping rocks (or trying to) in the stream when a group of ducks heard us talking and came over to see what the fuss was about (and hopefully score some food, I'm sure).
We walked up to William Wordsworth cottage just to say we've seen it. We sat outside a little tearoom and just passed time eating ice cream and drinking tea. It was a nice way to end our vacation. From Grasmere, we headed to our hotel which was really in the middle of nowhere. The whole town was about three houses wide. Across the road was a little stream to wander along which is what we did after dinner.
There were more ducks as well as some swans with her signets. Paul remembered he'd picked up a box of Coco Crisps as "emergency food" and we fed this to the ducks who seemed to enjoy it.
It really is a pretty part of the world.
We decided to take one last picture of us on vacation--this was going to be our final picture in England. . .
and then we saw the big black slugs and had to take a picture of one. So this is technically the last picture we took in England.
The next morning, we left for Manchester to catch our flight home. Danny had said several times that we needed to leave by about 6:45 to get to the airport on time. Linda thought 7:30 would be early enough. Let's just say Danny did some artful driving (including on the shoulder) to get us there on time since apparently no one (i.e. Linda) thought of rush hour traffic. We made it to the airport and through the check-in process with about 30 minutes to spare before boarding our plane. That's a little close for most of our liking and we can definitely thank Danny for getting us there with even that much time to spare. As we were saying goodbye to Danny and Ann, they both gave me a hug and said "Goodbye, Pet" which just seemed so English and sweet and English.

The flight home was definitely more lively than the flight to London since it was daytime. I read a bit, worked my crosswords, watched two movies (Horton Hears a Who and 27 Dresses so I can take those off my Netflix queue), napped some, and took pictures of Greenland as we flew over it. Paul and I were sitting in the middle section of the plane but Mom and Dad had a window seat. Too bad Dad was asleep at this point. He was kind of cranky when Mom woke him up trying to find her camera and wasn't that thrilled with us crawling over him to snap pictures.
But look how pretty Greenland is from the air. And since this is probably it for seeing Greenland, I wanted to capture it in photos even if it meant getting snarled at by my husband and dad.

So that's a summary of our 10 days in the UK and Ireland. I'm sure there are other things I'll think of to write about in the upcoming days and I'll just post pictures randomly since I have another 1100 to share. I hope that this isn't a once-in-a-lifetime trip because it definitely whetted my appetite to travel more extensively. By and far, I think Scotland was my favorite place to visit on this trip. I'd like to eventually go back to London and spend more time exploring there. The Lake District of England was just beautiful. Dublin, I could take or leave although I wouldn't refuse another trip to Ireland. Edinburgh, I loved. I've told Paul that I will be going back to Scotland to spend longer in Edinburgh and to go to the Highlands. I want to go to New Zealand (and probably get run over by a taxi while looking the wrong direction there) and I want to see the Northern Lights. I just hope I don't have to wait another 33 years for a big trip.

Small World

Paul called me yesterday from work to tell a funny story. While we were on vacation, Paul had his Blackberry and was reading emails but wasn't responding to any because we were on vacation and it cost something like 50 cents an email and that was just too much for my stingy husband. But that's not what he called to tell me (I already knew it) nor is that a very interesting story.

One of the emails he received while we were gone was from a former coworker, Ron, who does contract work with Paul's company. Paul called Ron back yesterday, apologizing for not responding sooner and explaining that we'd been on vacation. Ron inquired where and when Paul mentioned Scotland, Ron asked if we'd been to Edinburgh Castle. It seems that Ron was also on vacation in Scotland at the same time and saw Paul at the castle. He didn't come talk to us because he wasn't positive it was Paul and didn't want to look like a crazy but Ron commented to his son that that man could be Paul's twin. We've looked through our pictures of Edinburgh Castle to see if we might have caught Ron on film but it didn't seem we did. I wonder if they took a picture of "Paul's twin."

More on Scotland later. . .

Part Two: Ireland

We spent our first evening (June 24) in Ireland in Waterford. It was cold and drizzly so the only exploring we did was to walk up the street to find an ATM (or "hole in the wall" as I heard it referred to by locals). We stayed at Dooley's Hotel in Waterford which was reminiscent of the hotel in "Fawlty Towers." Again, we found ourselves with one slow lift and forty people with bags so we opted for the stairs. We went up one flight of stairs and then down a half a flight to get to our room. It didn't make the most sense but it served as a great photo.
We were lucky in that all our hotels had hair dryers. The challenge might just be finding them. In most hotels, we found the dryers in the desk drawer. In Waterford and Killarney, we had these:
I was so excited when I saw these hair dryers that I had to knock on Mom's door to ask if she'd noticed the hair dryer yet. I should point out that you'll notice that in almost every picture of me, I've got my hair pulled up. My flat iron didn't work with the electric converter so I would only blow dry my hair in the morning. I've always said (because it's true) that I have stick straight hair. I think it's developed a little wave as I've gotten older but living where there is no humidity, I never see it. I really just needed to go to Ireland. The day we spent at Bunratty Castle, when it was raining all day, I ended up with big full wavy hair--very unlike my normal straight 'do. And very amusing to Mom and me (I'm not sure anyone else knew to notice my big hair).We had dinner at the hotel that evening and our bus driver, Danny, sat next to Paul. I think Danny took a bit of a liking to Paul. Actually, I think Danny liked pretty much everyone except our tour guide, Linda. He didn't think she was worth much. I'll agree that she wasn't a great guide. There are probably worse but I know there are better. She got the job done and that was about all she did. But that's a story for another time. Paul and I chatted with Danny for a bit after dinner. We could catch about half of what he was saying (although I think that improved to 2/3 by the time we left). He'd tell us jokes and we'd start laughing not because we understood the punch line but because Danny was so pleased with the joke himself. For some reason, we got on the discussion of beers so Danny took us over to the pub and ordered a pint and a half for us of bitter (Smithwick's). It was very good but I didn't know why he only ordered me a half pint. Do I look like a girl who only drinks half pints? I think not. He said it was because only "scruppers" or some such slang drink pints. Girls look more dainty about it. Paul and I were laughing that Coors Light was on tap in the pub in Waterford. We had to explain to Danny that it's not thought of as great beer in America either--it gets the job done but just barely.

We didn't spend any real time in Waterford beyond going to the Waterford Crystal Factory. That was pretty amazing--I understand a bit better as to why it costs so darn much.
The tour is interesting because you're walking through the actual factory watching the craftspeople work and seeing the actual stuff that is used to make the various pieces of crystal.
I was able to catch a little 15-second clip of the craftsmen putting the handle on a pitcher (and I was very cautious not to speak while filming this.)


But if the piece doesn't live up to standards, they just pitch it in here. I'm sure some of these pieces would have been just fine with me.
At the end of the tour, there is a room where some of the master craftsmen give a demonstration of the cutting techniques and can answer any questions.
Then, of course, there is the showroom where you can buy just about any type of Waterford you can imagine.
And crystal goblets that are as big as me are on display. Funny thing about that there glass--it wasn't mounted down so I moved it a little. I had this image of how much you-break-it-you-buy-it would cost so I moved very carefully away. You can always tell who has the camera. For example, this picture here. I probably would have taken a picture of the pretty little house on the road next to where we were stopped. Paul (and Mom too, apparently) thought the Irish road crew was more interesting.
From Waterford, we went to Blarney.
Us in front of the castle. Everyone asked if I bought my coat in Ireland but it's actually a super-duper clearance item from Ann Taylor Loft bought for my trip to Ireland. I'm very glad I did since you'll notice I have it on in a good 90% of the pictures. It was chillier than I was expecting it to be and even though I'd packed long-sleeves and long pants, the jacket was definitely needed as well.
We walked up the stairs to the battlements at the top of the castle--this picture was looking straight down from the top. We went up the stairs with three of the teenagers who were with our group. I'm not sure they were 100% on board with this little adventure (small tight staircase that ends a long way up). One of them looked down and said that it "looked like death." He wanted nothing to do with the edge until I stepped up to take this picture. Then since a "girl" could do it, he could too.
I dunno. I never had a strong desire to kiss the Blarney Stone. And this was the line that was waiting to do so. So we passed on that adventure. But I've seen it so that counts.
After we'd stormed the castle, we went to the shops at Blarney for lunch and a little shopping. We picked up a few gifts and I bought some yarn with every good intention of using that to make scarves as gifts. I should get right on that since Christmas is only six months away.

From Blarney, we went to Killarney which is where we stayed the night. Because we were unable to visit St. Paul's Cathedral in London, our guide arranged for us to have Jaunting Car rides through Killarney National Park.
Our driver Denis told some tall tales (and gave some interesting facts as well) along the way.
In Killarney National Park
Bob the horse got a little too close for Paul's comfort on the ride back to the hotel.
Paul found himself a lucky clover.
The next day (June 26) was the only really rainy day that we had on our vacation. We stopped briefly in Adare, billed as "Ireland's Prettiest Village." While Paul and I were walking along the main street, we overheard a man comment to his wife about my umbrella which has shoes all over it. I commented that I received it from Paul on my birthday instead of actual shoes. The lady was laughing in her lovely brogue that she also "loves shoes. Love 'em. Over 100 pairs." So apparently, the love of shoes and long queues for the ladies' toilet are universal.


From Adare, we headed to Limerick. Now I don't know for certain that she wasn't planning to do this but the day before, Mom and I had been joking about everyone needed to write a limerick but it couldn't start "There once was a man from Nantucket" and lo and behold, our tour guide announced that there would be a limerick writing contest in honor of our being in Limerick. Coincidence? Probably but I like to think that I had an original idea. (I came up with two that I'll share later.) On the roads in London and in Limerick, many of the crosswalks say "Look left" or "Look right" probably in hopes of keeping idiot tourists (like me) from getting run over. I don't know how helpful it would be in Gaelic.
Paul at the door to King John's Castle. The very one from Robin Hood fame or the Disney movie that caused me to sing "Prince John, the phony king of England!"
I liked this picture--Mom and Dad and that bright yellow door.
From Limerick, we traveled to Bunratty Castle and Folk Park. The Castle has been restored and furnished as it would have been when occupied and the folk park has cottages from different parts of Ireland that have been refurbished to get a glimpse of what life in 19th century Ireland would have been like. I think it could best be described as "damp." And I decided after this trip that we really need a donkey.
One of the restored farmhouses is 1 1/2 stories. I don't think the previous owners had children who were Paul's size.
One thing that the 21st century has over the 19th century--hand dryers that can be used to try to get things less damp. Such as shoes that have trod through puddles while exploring life in jolly old Ireland. It was mostly successful and I was very thankful.

We drove from Bunratty up to Dublin and checked into our hotel there. Thankfully, we only had to lug things up one flight of stairs this time (and no down was involved until we left). After dinner, we had another round of bitters in the pub with Danny and watch the EuroCup semifinals and I probably know 100% more about soccer than I did before which wasn't much to begin with. I think Dublin was my least favorite stop--I still enjoyed it but it was just a city in many aspects. Of course, we also had a double bed with the shape that can best be described as a "bowl bed" (one that in sunken in the middle) that made sleeping uncomfortable and this is where I ended up sick so my views my might be tainted.

The next morning (June 27), we did a bus tour of Dublin with a stop at St. Patrick's Cathedral and Trinity College to see the Book of Kells, an illuminated manuscript of the Gospels, and the library at the college. I bought a poster with a picture of the library for my office--it's a beautiful space with all the ancient books and arched ceilings. Puts my little space to shame.
After we left Trinity College, we were on our own for the afternoon. Paul just wanted pizza more than anything else. So we found a place oddly enough called Apache Pizza that we think must be an Irish chain (we saw several in Dublin and Limerick) and Paul was a very happy camper for the afternoon. We wandered around the shopping areas looking for another game store like the one we found in Cardiff with no luck. We did go into a toy store along the lines of Toys R Us and saw a shelf full of Wiis. This is why you can't find them in the U.S.--they're all in Ireland.After we gave up on finding a game store, we set off to the Guinness Brewery for that tour. Not knowing exactly where we were going or having a good map of Dublin, we basically just went in the general direction and ended up taking the very long circuitious route to the Guinness Storehouse (but along the way, we were asked by other tourist for directions. I don't know if they thought we might know or if we looked like locals). We were both disappointed in the tour--we were thinking it would be more along the lines of the Coors Brewery tour where you're actually in the brewery but this was just a self-guided tour of displays about the history of Guinness. Of course, that didn't stop us from enjoying our free drinks at the end.
And I'll take the credit/blame for this picture as we were leaving Guinness since I had the camera (although Paul was itching to take it himself). Man in capris = manpris. And he's wearing sandals.
That evening, we went walking through the Temple Bar area of Dublin. These three young men were being questioned by the Garda for quite a while--the best we can figure is that they were drinking on the street and were perhaps underage. We didn't want to just take a picture of the shakedown so Paul stood beside them. And I should point out that this picture was taken at about 9:30 in the evening. It stays light until quite late--10:30 or so--and the sun comes up very early--around 4:30--because of the latitude. We only made the mistake of leaving our hotel curtains open once.
One of the pubs in the Temple Bar area. I have windowbox envy. All the flowers in planters, which were every place we went, were so lovely. It's made me want to redo all the planters I have.
We loved the warning labels on the cigarette packs in the U.K. and Ireland. There is no beating around the bush here. No namby-pamby Surgeon's General warning. They just give it to you straight. Because smoking is no longer allowed in pubs, everyone congregates outside the doors with their pints and their smokes. It is possible to pick up a pack-a-day habit just walking around Dublin.
The next morning (June 28) we left for Larne, Northern Ireland for our ferry trip over to Scotland. This was a very long travel day as we went from Dublin to Larne over to Scotland on the ferry and then across Scotland to Edinburgh. On the drive to Larne, we went on the edge of Belfast, past the harbor (or harbour, if you please) where the Titanic was built.
We had a little time in Larne to get off the bus and walk around. As I was walking over to get this picture, the police officer on duty told me that I wasn't supposed to go past a certain point. I apologized saying I only wanted a picture of the sign. Strangely, he was fine with that.

As we were in line to board the ferry, the Border Patrol (or equivolant since I'm not sure what they're called in the U.K.) did a random search of luggage and mine was one of the ones selected. It was a more lax process than in the U.S. since we were able to open our bags for the officers, chat with them, probably could have helped them look for stuff (although I didn't try). Not sure what they were looking for but they didn't find anything and we were able to board the high-speed ferry that took us to Cairnryan, Scotland.