Second Day?

Let me preface with this: we heard unidentified screaming in the wee mid-morning hours.

Our wake-up call came thirty minutes late. Lynn the Canadian-German had them send it when the first utterly failed. I had a bit of trouble sleeping last night because when it was time to go to bed here, I am used to eating dinner then staying up for four to five more hours. I finally got to sleep about 2 o' clock in the morning. Shortly thereafter, I heard the screaming in the alley outside our room (the window was open because they do not have nor do they need air conditioners). That, of course, woke me up a bit, and then it took a while for me to get back to sleep. By the time I fell asleep, Dad got up when his alarm went off (on time, might I add). He proceeded to take a shower. Ergo, I never got to sleep again. Then Courtney knocked on the door to give one of our adapters back thus forcing me to get up. I think that was the Universe's way of rubbing it in.

We finally got downstairs to breakfast where I learned that the Irish themselves love a hearty breakfast; and so one we had. I had a fried egg, grapefruit and plain yoghurt, a bowl of cereal, a piece of back bacon (Canadian bacon), orange juice, corn bread, and tea. I was quite content.

Interruption - my abs are starting to look nice from all my workings outs.

After breakfast we grabbed our backpacks and headed to the bus. We were five minutes late. But it was ok because Zach and his mum and his dad were much later. I no longer feel so obsolete and ashamed. It's refreshing. When they got there, we departed for the Ring of Kerry.

What is the Ring of Kerry, you might ask? It is simply a scenic driving route that goes around the county of Kerry onto a peninsula. It passes over streams, between hills, and through towns. It was quite beautiful. We got some nice views of the Atlantic. My pictures are repetitive since I was taking them from inside a moving bus. I was trying to make sure I give you an accurate representation of the countryside, so consequently there is a great deal of glare in some of the photos, but at least I have them, so don't complain. We passed lots of rocky craggy hills and small family farms. We went through a few towns and stopped in some, too. You will just have to look at the pictures; it's too difficult to explain what it looks like.

The climate is supposedly moderate, but because I am so used to 100 degrees Fahrenheit, 65 degrees is cold. And then it rains a splash here and there. And then it's windy from the Atlantic ocean. But that is fine. I had a jacket. And a BLT in Waterville.

The first landmark (I guess that is what it is classified as being) we passed was the tallest mountain in Ireland: Carrantuohill. The pictures of it are hard to make out because of the fog. After that, we came to a town (whose name I don't know) that had a statue of a goat named King Puck. Apparently every year there they have a three-day festival during which a selected goat is "king" over the town. Mostly the festival days consist of drinking. If the special goat has things covered, why not drink then?

Along the beginning of the drive, we passed many peat bogs (which are now protected due to their disappearing). If they don't have oxygen enough, they don't survive. Peat bogs are constantly moving, so in the old days (hundreds of years ago) when they were used as natural refrigerators, whatever people stuck in them to keep cool was lost by the time they came back to get it. Peat bogs preserve things really well. The butter that those people stuck in it so long ago has been found today along with some well-preserved complete human bodies. Mmm butter 'n' giblets. There are blanket bogs and raised bogs. Google them if you are interested.

Next we passed through a tiny town where a certain Daniel O' Connell was born. It was called Cahersiveen. O' Connell was a Catholic reformer man.

When we stopped in Waterville (a place where Charlie Chaplin liked to hang out back in the day), we had lunch. Dad and I split a BLT. Waterville is on the edge of the peninsula we were driving on, so it is only to be accepted that we were near the Valentia Islands - where there are puffins. I guess that answers the question about where do puffins go in the winter.

We kept driving (after we were 20 minutes late getting back on the bus because it took forever to get our food - all of us were late, not just me and Dad) and got some good pictures. We finally got to Sneem. It was there that I went to the bathroom, and Dad bought traditional Irish music (the likes of which I am listening to know because I am in the lobby of our hotel not far from the bar just to get Internet access). We kept going and going. We drove through Killarney National Park and stopped to get pictures of some really pretty lakes. When we finally got to the city of Killarney, there were a bunch of tourists. Lynn the Canadian-German only gave us thirty minutes. We had enough time to walk around the block once and buy coffee. Well, I bought a cappuccino. Dad bought hot chocolate and burnt his tongue. We were early back to the bus. The gay snots from New York were quite late. (They have their own story later on in this post.)

After Killarney, we drove back to the hotel and had dinner. I had egg salad, beef stroganoff, and creme puffs. It was very delicious. Again, I was (and still am) content.

So, to my story about the gay snots from New York. There are four girls and two (twin sister) adults. One sister is a crappy drinker; the other is just weird. Apparently the entire group went out to a pub last night and didn't get in until 2:30 AM. The twin sister with little flame tattoo bands around her biceps got uber drunk and they had to go get her and bring her back to the hotel. Screaming. When they got her upstairs, she banged on doors (thankfully not ours) and even walked into Shelby, Katie and Mrs. Billy's room at 2:30. Katie hadn't been able to sleep due to the time change, so she had gone down to the lobby to get on the computer. She saw them come in and went back to her room, but her door was still propped open (for reasons I am foggy about). The drunk twin actually came into her room asking if she could sleep there. Meanwhile, Billie thought it was time to get up because of all the noise, so she was just plain confused. To conclude my story, we didn't see the drunk twin all day until dinner. By the way, I call them gay snots because they all talk like airheads (teeny-bopper girls), and two of them are...well...touchy-feely if you understand what I am getting at.

But for a change of topic, Dad and I are having a great time. Tomorrow we are driving to Dublin and are going to Blarney castle (A.K.A. home of the Blarney Stone). Hopefully I will be able to write, but if not, know that I love you all. Goodnight from Ireland.

Also, I can't figure out how to put pictures albums on my blog, so I am putting them on Facebook (Not all my pictures are there yet. I have too many to upload at once...). Here's the link:

http://www.facebook.com/photos.php?id=100001023794508