Love, Jimmie

We were settling in and just as we were drifting off to sleep in this very cushy, very plush, very large B&B, very much opposite the one in Doolin where we were terrified we’d hear someone having echo-y sex, we heard the couple in the bedroom above ours begin an amorous, rhythmic, thumping party that we could not ignore. “Go on with your bad selves,” I thought. And then sighed. Every silver lining has a cloud, I guess.

The Great Sex Fest: Ireland, 2013 ended shortly and very soon after that Woney and I were jolted awake by thunder and the smell of rain. We leapt out of bed and immediately beat a hasty path to the driveway. We stood there like turkeys, staring up at the sky for endless minutes, just waiting for it to rain. It did – six whole drops. That, friends, was the extent of the relentless Irish rain we’d heard so much about. Six drops in eight days.

The next morning brought another traditional Irish breakfast. Yay. Woney and I shoved our food all around our plates and opted for a piece of toast with a token bite taken out of other offerings just to make nice. The toast was fabulous, though! Really, very good.

We loaded our car with our ridiculous suitcases and my ridiculous pillow, and then thought to check on all of our purchases we had been lugging around since day one. Remember Lulu and Wilhelmina? They had been cruising around in the boot (Irish word! I’m so cultured!) for eight days and I was worried that the heat had done them in. Lulu was fine. Looked just like she did the moment Woney finished painting on her coconut bra. Wilhelmina, on the other hand, suffered facial damage. The sun had melted her little teddy bear face into itself and so she looked a lot like she had Bell’s Palsy. Poor baby. I was planning on breaking her up into bite-sized pieces to share at work but I was bitterly disappointed that she didn’t last longer so I could have first shown her off intact.

We headed into Trim for our last day and night in Ireland. It was a solemn drive. We were both a little sad and a little quiet, feeling thrilled at the prospect of home but also somewhat melancholy that the trip was nearing its end. The B&B we were scheduled for that night was perfect in that the husband-half of the proprietor couple, Mike, was such a talker! He gave us loads of things to do for the day, none of which involved scenic drives or castles.

Trim, on the way to Newgrange

Traditonal Irish Countryside

Our first stop after delivering our heavy bags was Newgrange in County Meath. We had seen pictures of it, sort of, and knew that it was a really old monument, sort of. We were intrigued to say the least and hopped in the car to seek it out. We found it eventually and discovered that it was a religious monument, sort of, and that it was built in 3200 BC, sort of. Really, not a lot of information is known about it, but scholars agree that it most likely was created as a passage tomb and had something to do with the Winter Solstice. An entire demonstration was done to show how light enters into the structure during Winter Solstice which lasted all of seventeen minutes from start to finish. I personally feel that the decades it took for Newgrangians to build that mound seems like a lot of time and effort for a seventeen minute light show once a year. Honestly, because so little was known about it I was slightly uncomfortable being there so all pictures you see here are Woney’s handiwork or taken off the internet. It was a neat thing to see but if you want more information on it, I recommend Google.

Credit: Station House Hotel
Newgrange Monument

Credit: Woney
Monument Entrance

What really got me jazzed, though, was the sheep/wool/spinning farm we stopped by on our way out of Newgrange. We saw a sign that said “Souvenirs” and you know Woney and I took that turn! Turns out it was one of the best memories I have of Ireland. We visited the sheep on the farm, and then watched a woman comb the wool, card the wool and then spin yarn from the wool. Smelled terrible in there but I loved it and bought all kinda presents for people in her shop. That is the part of Ireland I am going to miss, the interaction with the people.

Woney and I also got really jazzed about something else that day. I’m embarrassed to even tell you this. I can’t believe I’m still typing it. But we had seen some McDonald’s signs here and there and also signs for something called Supermac’s. It wasn’t until the last day that we realized Supermac’s was Ireland’s version of McDonald’s. It took a sign reading “Supermac’s: More Irish than Ronald” for us to get it, and since we were feeling very cultured and classy, we decided Supermac’s was our lunchtime choice. For the first time in eight days we had the opportunity to get a fountain Coke. Do you know how good fountain Cokes are? Do you have any idea how much you will miss them when you can’t get one anymore? I think lunch was pretty good, I cannot recall, but that Coke? Man, it was delicious!

Later that night, Woney and I had a quiet dinner at a local club house recommended by Mike. We talked about everything we had done over the last eight days. We continued to plan our move to Ireland. We still talk about that, actually. We made lists of all our purchases for customs and we packed our bags for the last time. As we were reading that night one of us would sniffle a little and then the other of us would sigh. It was a monumental trip and it was almost over. A lot of emotion there, but all of it good. Sleep came easy for us that night – a good thing since we had a long day ahead of us.

Next stop: Dublin, for one last go round!