Rain. Irish raindrops are falling on our heads. Perfect for a 2 hr drive toward the Beara Peninsula said to be as lovely as the Ring of Kerry and not as traveled. Except the 2 hrs was more like 11 with Holly and I ready to walk the damn ring at the end just to get out of the damn car.
First sight – Timleague Frary and we’re the only ones on the grounds. After touring around Holly crawls through an opening to see inside. I do not. As I’m walking around reading the grave stones I start to freak myself out thinking that Holly’s never coming back and that this is going to be one of those sad tourist tales where one of the girls disappears in the middle of a derelict Frary. See finally crawled back out.
One thing about these old Abbeys and Frarys is that you’re stepping on graves as you go and so here I am in my entire superstitious manner whispering down, “sorry, sorry, and sorry. Oops, sorry.” One cannot be too careful.
We stop in Glengarriff to eat. It’s an adorable old village; sadly they all are starting to look the same as we buzz by to the next rock circle or derelict castle or cave.
Drombeg Stone Circle – Crazy hippies are dancing and chanting in the middle of it while we’re taking pictures. They’ve brought flower offerings and all are doing this crazy dance. Holly and I start to giggle and then suck it in, god forbid they hex us. As they dance around all I can think is, please don’t be American – Please don’t be American.
CW
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