When the Blarney hits the windscreen...

May the road rise to meet you, may the wind be always at your back, and may the sun always shine warm upon your face.

Today we hit the road for the start of our Irish travels. The 23 members of our epic party loaded up our spacious tour bus promptly at 8 a.m. and hit the Dublin traffic, heading out of town while everyone else in the entire country appeared to be heading in... It was slow going for the first half hour or so. I was struck by all the walkers and bike riders. Ireland is a very youth-centric country these days, and for the most part, people in the city tend to use alternate means of transportation. Maybe because the price of gas is so high, or the roads are so narrow, or maybe there's no place to park for the vehicles people do have... but for whatever reason, lots and lots of bicyclists flowing into town at rush hour.

We had a spectacularly sunny day to bless our travels, so the scenery was captivating as we made our way through the city limits and out into the hinterlands. Ireland has a very limited highway system, and even then, the best high speed roadways expand from the typical two lanes to 3 or rarely 4, only on rare stretches. Makes for a fairly fun ride when you're up in the front row like we were today.

Our bus driver, Mr. Martin Hewett, served double duty as the guide, so as we rolled through the countryside he'd swing the mike in front of his face and start offering some background information on that part of the countryside, or maybe a tidbit of historical significance that took place nearby. He is an interesting character. When we first got off the plane in Dublin, we met up with a company driver who was all smiles, full of pleasantries and easy to like. Martin, on the other hand was almost the complete opposite. Very reserved, he was all business all the time. A very good story teller, but none of us could get a good sense of who he was, or what kind of relationship we would be having with this leader of our group for the next four days.

Our group is rather a rather eclectic mix of English speaking people from three continents and the Island of New Zealand. Two sets of honeymooners married on the same day in nearby towns in Florida, didn't know each other at all, and still picked this trip to do their honeymoon. A single guy from New Jersey; single gals, one from Boston and the other from the Philly area; a mid-thirties Hispanic couple from North Carolina; two sisters on break from studies in Australia; a New Zealand mining engineer who works in Indonesia on a much needed break from six months in the jungle; and older couple from Australia traveling around Europe, taking the trip to do a quick hit of Ireland. and finally a REALLY young couple, he from a sheep farm in Australia, she from England, trying to see if their relationship would last past the initial passion of a chance encounter that had lead to a months-long long distance romance. It is an interesting variety of people and stories as we were to find out in the days ahead.

After about two hours of driving, Martin pulled the bus over to the side of the road (remember we're driving on the left side of the road over here?) and gave us a chance to gaze longingly at "The Rock of Cashel," an historic site in the province of Munster, located at Cashel, South Tipperary. According to tradition, it is the site of the conversion of the King of Munster to Christianity by St. Patrick in the 5th Century. In any event, they built a huge castle on the spot and has been seat of power for the region for centuries.

We were probably 3 or 4 miles away as the crow flies, but the sky was crystal clear and you could clearly see the immensity of the place and the reconstruction that was underway to restore it. Our tour did not include a tour of the Castle, but it was interesting to stop and see the place and hear the history of it. After that we loaded up and drove into the town of Cashel for a rest stop and leg stretch. An altogether quaint little Irish town with multi-colored store fronts all packed tightly together, with a small town square and a Murphy's Pub.

From there it was on to the main event of the day, as far as I was concerned: Blarney Castle and the "legendary" Blarney Stone. Apparently the stone is nothing more than a marketing gimmick dreamed up by some Earle of Blarney years and years ago, and has morphed into a "must visit" tourist attraction. My brother, Dave, our advertising whiz, should take note because the place is packed day-in and day-out with tourists from around the world, all eagerly willing to part with 2 Euros apiece to lay on their back 150 feet in the air and kiss a slimy rock. Oh yes, both Laura and I did it. It's been on my Bucket List. Check!

From the castle we walked down the path, over a creek and into the Blarney Wool Store... the real money-maker from most people who come visit. It's billed as the world's largest Irish Shop... which may or may not be true, but it is big and it has LOTS of Irish wool and collectibles. We had lunch in the adjoining pub, then dived in to all the goodies, walking out with a couple of wonderful wool sweaters, scarves and a great driving hat for Kurt. Can't wait to get home to the winter weather... we'll all be roasty-toasty in our Irish finery.

Promptly at 1:30 pm Martin had us hustled back aboard and we pulled out for the remainder of our day's journey to Killarney. It's not quite Christmas yet, but we're spending the next two nights there.

Actually, we'll just miss the famed Christmas season in Killarney, but we did get chance to see a bit of a preview. Our stay for the next two nights is the Killarney Avenue Hotel in the heart of the town. Not the 5-Star hotel the tour advertised, but its' 4-Star baby sister; still a very nice place to stay with decent sized rooms and a nice restaurant. We had about an hour to kill after we checked in, so everyone scattered around town to see the sights before darkness took over, but the one thing we found to be true all over Ireland became evident here: Pretty much everything shuts down at 5 pm except for the restaurants and bars, and the restaurants are pretty much done by 9 pm. So we walked around an empty mall for a few minutes to stretch those road weary limbs, then made our way back to the hotel for a group dinner in the Garden Restaurant and Bar, which was a very tasty traditional Irish fare of beef or lamb, and lots of potatoes! After dinner the youngsters headed off in search of a night life (finding some really bad 80s cover band in the end), while Laura and I wandered around the quiet town for an hour or so, getting a feel for where the shops were should we get the chance later to make use of some free time. Sadly, though the Christmas lights had been strung all along the streets, nothing was lit because the official Christmas season is still a week or so away.

Tomorrow, we head out on a long trip around the Ring of Kerry, reputed to be one of the most picturesque tours in the world. I can't wait!