That is when I had the chance to take a trip I have thought about, even before I knew I was thinking about it: a trip to the Emerald Isle, Ireland. Or in this case, The Republic of Ireland [Northern Ireland is a seperate country, BTW].

  I think about it still.

  I remember...

  The color green, to begin with. Of course.

  I remember the coach ride into the city from Dublin airport, remember thinking, "this landscape isn't all that different from home", not that that's a complaint, mind you! Not a complaint, at all, at all. :)

Dublin, a city of 1.2 million people. Full of culture and rich in history, it doesn't seem to have building taller than ten stories.

 Jonathan Swift [Gulliver's Travels], Bram Stoker [Dracula] and Oscar Wilde, to name a few, have all called this city home.

  I remember walking a short distance with some ladies from my tour, to a restaurant and pub, listening to them, complaining about their husbands, most of whom didn't take the trip with them. I kind of remember thinking, gals, you couldn't leave this at home? :)

  I remember buying some Euros at the currency exchange at our Dublin hotel. I remember the nice lady behind the counter telling me she couldn't give me change in Euro coinage. Funny, though, the way she said it. "I have no cents." I remember thinking, "uh lady, I don't think you meant it like that." :)

  Then I remember commenting LOUDLY to my travel companions about the local currency: "THIS LOOKS LIKE PLAY MONEY," not far from the front desk. Guess I was the one who had no sense at that particular moment. :)

  Sorry about that, folks. :)

  Before we even stopped at our hotel, we stopped at a number of stops. I remember Trinity College and the Book of Kells. The four Gospels on animal skins, written in some ancient script. *YAWN* I'm sorry, but I didn't find that at all interesting, even before someone tried to take a picture of the exhibit, and a curator of some sort said, "I'm sorry, no phot-au-graphy, please."  Guess when someone demonstates that they believe something is so important we can't even take pictures of it, that's when I lose interest.

  I remember St. Patrick's Cathedral. Big beautiful old church. A bust of Jonathan Swift is there, and I think he might have been buried there at some point.

  I remember Abbey Tavern in Howth, about an hour's drive from downtown Dublin. Nice entertainment, but I think if I ever go a back to Dublin, I will spend more time in the city instead, if the opportunity presents itself.

    

Day two, if I remember correctly...[Wonderful stuff, that Guiness! :) Knock you back on your...well, never mind! :) ].

  The Blarney Castle, home of you-know-what. I remember climbing over a hundred steps inside that famous castle keep, most of the castle itself no longer in existence. The staircase was unbelievably narrow and rocky. I remember thinking, "You gotta be kidding me."

  The Blarney Stone. Can't just bend over and kiss it, oh no. When you reach the top, you have to lie on your back, grab some hand-holds and pull yourself along, until your upper body is suspended a hundred feet above the ground. Did I mention you have to hang your head upside down, while you kiss the stone? I have a thing about heights, you know! Now that I can say I did that, don't have to worry about that again! I even have the picture to prove it. Did I mention that that they have this gentleman who sits on your legs while you perform this acrobatic feat? I also bought a "certificate" to prove that I did it.

  They say kissing the stone gives you the gift of gab, or the gift of eloquence. Depends upon who's telling the story, I guess. "Gab" is, if I understand correctly, an ability to keep someone off-balance by talking constantly. I don't think that's me. I much prefer the "eloquent" part. :)

  I remember the storefronts around the Castle. I remember buying two sweaters at Blarney Woolen Mills: one, a touristy sweater that says "Ireland" on has a depiction of a shamrock, and the other, a button-down, real wool sweater, with leather buttons.

  I remember the lovely, little town of Killarney. My friend and church choir mate, Fred Kaminky, lived in that town when he was in the service during WW II. Now, there's a fella with the gift of gab. :) We arrived there after we left Blarney, I think.

  I remember dropping off my luggage at the hotel room in Killarney, then retiring to the Danny Mann lounge. I remember trying the first and only Guiness of the trip [Remember what I said earlier? :) ]  If any authority on the subject, knows if there is a difference between Guiness Stout and Guiness draft, please let me know. :)

  I remember walking the streets of Killarney with some ladies from the tour group before going to retire for the night. I remember asking the lad [yes, I said "lad!" :) ] for a six AM wake-up call. I remember the phone ringing, the lad [again] at the front desk asking if I was all right. I began to draw a bath, and while the tub was filling up, I shaved. From the other room I could hear the radio playing over the hotel TV, and then the man on the radio saying "it's three AM." To this day, I still don't know what happened. I decided to risk it again the next night and saw the young man, not the same one, enter the wake-up time on their automated telephone wake-up system, which I didn't remember seeing the other young man doing.  Hmmmm...

  

   Day Three...The Ring of Kerry and the coach ride from h***!

   Through no fault of the driver Matt Nolan [Thanks, Matt! and thanks, Brian Moore Tours!], the ride around the Ring of Kerry was not the most pleasant day of my life. :( I STILL  don't know what happened, whether it was drinking water out of the tap of the hotel bathroom without boiling it [a no-no in Ireland, I've found out!], the Guniness I had the night before, all the Irish coffee [ which they apparently serve to tourists all over
Irelend]the higher elevations and possible motion sickness from the bumpy ride, or not  to mention the seafood chowder I had for lunch at Cahirciveen, well, not to be indelicate, let's just say I was, ah, well, "plugged up", and PAINFULLY SO.