cead mile failte

I'm writing you from Ireland.

The Dingle Peninsula, the town of Dingle, the internet cafe, to be more precise.

The Dingle Peninsula, which we investigated along the Slea Head Drive today, is a breathtaking (as a travel writer would say) land on the western edge of the island. The drive runs along the waterside, high above in the hills, making a driver feel a bit like 007. A 007 who's glad all the drivers are tourists, so they're all driving slowly.

At a side-o-the-cliff car park, we climbed down one bit of the hill to a rock jutting prow-like over the water. It really wasn't as steep as it appeared from above, and i finally convinced my sister Amanda, and her boyfriend, Harrison, to climb down after me. Harrison effusively thanked me afterwards, i'm happy to say.

I decided that if i could be any animal, i would be a seagull. An Irish seagull.
(Click on the image above for a surprise i found).

We came upon a beach tucked back in a cove, where all kinds of locals and tourists were gorging themselves on the rarity of a perfectly blue sky. The water was clearer than i've ever seen, even in Puerto Rico, and the water briskly cold. This came in handy later.

We darted around two or three juttings of mussel-covered rocks, failing mostly to miss the incoming tide waves, and reached a far beach where we took a few photos. Then we realized we'd best turn back before the high tide required that we climb the cliff to get back. On the way, i stubbed a toe on one of the out-crops where the water was already thigh-deep. I knew immediately i'd broken it. Here's where the cold tide was a blessing.

I hobbled a bit, then Harrison carried me piggy back, then i hopped on Amanda & Harrison's shoulders up the steep drive back to the car. Later, as i was sitting in the car while they were out taking photos at other stops, i wrote in my journal that i'm quite sure this new circumstance will be what enables me to receive what i most deeply desire for this trip. Who knows how. I'll tell you once i know. Already, i can walk gingerly without A & H's support, but i have to be quite care-full.

Driving on the left isn't as nerve-wracking as i'd anticipated. After a rather tense first day, i feel comfortable with keeping left, and even managing deftly through the roundabouts, which i personally think are a brilliant solution to certain intersections.

To be brief, as my minutes are running out, i'll give you a bulleted itenerary so far:

Wed: Arrive Dublin after an all-night flight (read: two hours of sleep. Eire is 5 hours ahead of EST); Drive about, take the long way to the highway down to Wicklow, Stay in a hostel in a quaint village with a church where Catholics and Anglicans meet on alternate Sundays.

Th: Drive to Glendalough ("valley of two lakes") where St. Kevin tried to get away and be a hermit, and ended up founding a monastic order; continue through Wicklow Gap to Kilkenny; after staying too long in Kilkenny, decide for a closer hostel than planned, which turns out to be a small castle.

Fri: Wake early, walk about shooting photos of cattle chewing their cud in the morning mist...drive through the madness of folks on their way to the races at Killarney, and end in Dingle, at a hostel in what was a hunting lodge in the 17th century.

It's been perfect perfect weather so far, and all our minor anxiety tiffs have been quickly repented of and graciously forgiven. I love my sister and Harrison. I'm glad to be here with them.