Plane from Shannon to Newark

Bunratty had a folk village that was more than disappointing – the castle and the pub didn’t even make up for the fake snow on the roof of the village huts. We ate dinner at Durty Nelly’s. Where I proceeded to get drunk and drunk-dial internationally, leaving apparently rather amusing messages on voice mails.

Bunratty really is just boring. Cheesy and touristy.

The Cliffs of Moher were worth the drive. A gorgeous view, County Cork or whoever is doing some stupid tourist construction shit involving building a fake Cliff in the side of hill so tourists can see “what they look like” on bad weather days. Heart breaking.
There was a photographer with a very expensive camera standing on the edge of the cliff who flicked his cigarette over the edge. I wanted to beat him and throw him to the rocks below and take his camera for ruining the very beauty he was trying to capture.

I loved Ireland. There were times when I had the nagging sensation of having been there before, one of returning. I loved County Kerry. I loved the Dingle Peninsula. I’ve already determined to return to Ireland – especially County Kerry – at some point.
I bought like four bottles of Euro Fanta. I’m drinking one of them now and saving the other three for later. Fanta tastes so much better in Europe, I’ve been drinking one a day since I got here.
However, after all these dammned three course meals, I’m still looking forward to pizza.
And seeing how these pictures turned out.

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