Love, Jimmie

I heard another couple come in the front door of the B&B, thump down the hall, have a conversation, and my last thought before I drifted off to sleep in that echo-y loud no-privacy B&B was, “Please, God, don’t let them have sex. We’ll hear it ALL and I just can’t take that.”

The night passed uneventfully and to my knowledge, no sex was had. Woney and I packed up our suitcases after another traditional Irish breakfast, complete with toast, and headed into Doolin proper. It was a 2.5 minute drive and that’s only because the road narrowed to a single lane and we had to wait for a car to first pass over the bridge.

We’d heard that an Island tour existed, that you could see the Cliffs of Moher from a boat, and I’ll tell you, the heat was such that a windy cruise was of great interest to us. I was sweating buckets and it was barely 9:00 a.m. I desperately wanted to walk the Cliffs, to hike them the old fashioned way but the cruise was cheap enough and enticing enough that we pushed the walking off until later. Woney and I purchased our tickets and then went shopping to amuse ourselves until the boat departed.

Y’all, I use the term “shopping” loosely. There were perhaps three stores meant for shopping in Doolin and one of them was a wool shop. It was 90 degrees – thus the very idea of wool shopping was abhorrent. The chocolate shop, on the other hand, was awarded our business and we spend an inordinate amount of time in there because quite simply, there was nothing else to do.

Sign Reads: Dangerous for Bathing Beyond this Point

Moo. That’s Gaelic for Moo.

We eventually wandered our way down a pretty long road to get to the boat docks and finally, our boat came. First we visited the Aran Islands where we had the best lunch of our entire lives.

Best Lunch Ever

We took a horse and buggy tour of the Island and again, attempted to amuse ourselves with the rest of our time by shopping. If you guessed that there was really no shopping, you’d be correct. The local population of that island is about 300 people, give or take five. One man was selling pieces of slate on which he hand-carved Gaelic symbols and letters. He was quite popular with the 300 citizens and managed to do a tidy business as all the tourists with money burning a hole in their pockets emptied them into his ready hands.

View from Aran Island

Shipwreck on the Island

Our Pony, Jack

See the rocks in the field?

The farming families who live here move the rocks from the field and build the paddocks. Millions of rocks, hundreds of paddocks.

Just because it’s pretty . . . .

Next we hopped back on the boat to visit the Cliffs. It was here, on this boat, that I blistered my nose so badly that the skin hardened into a protective covering like a cicada. I didn’t realize that was happening because of the wind and the beauty but when Woney said as I took off my sunglasses, “Wow, you look like a raccoon” I wised up.

I didn’t mention much about either of these jaunts because again, Ireland is just such a beautiful place that I’m going to let it speak for itself. I will tell you that the Cliffs are so massive that when you approach them from the water and you try to look up to see the top of them, you can’t. The sheer magnitude of them will make your breath catch in your throat and you’ll realize just how small you really are. Absolutely gorgeous. Woney and I just breathed it all in, as much as we could take.

Cliffs from a distance

Cliffs of Moher

Free Standing Rock

Cliffs of Moher

Moher Rock

Moher Rock – Every white dot is a Puffin.

Limp with all the beauty we had experienced, Woney and I drug ourselves back down that long road to our car and drug ourselves out of Doolin. We both made a half-hearted attempt at offering to walk the Cliffs with the other but I could already feel my skin beginning to puff up from the burn. Woney could see this for herself and so we made our way to Galway for the night. We were exhausted. Even if Hugh Jackman dressed in full Wolverine gear had streaked naked through our B&B I would not have noticed. (This might be a lie.) I was completely satiated. I could not take in anymore.

Doolin was assuredly my favorite place. The people. The views. The chocolate. The Cliffs. Oh, those Cliffs. I’m not sure I will ever get over them.

Next Stop: Westport!

Ireland