Whittier Heights Detectives, a beginning

I adopted a cat this spring, and am fully enamored of her. My friend also adopted a precious Corgis puppy around the same time. I like to imagine they might be pals and solve crimes, so here is how it might start.

==

Evie stretched out on the porch. It was late enough in the day a shaft of sunlight had made its way thru the foliage to warm up the front porch. This would last a few minutes at most, so best soak it up. With a slight roll of her right shoulder, she lolled onto her back, scratching her ear against the rough welcome mat texture. Her person was doing something the yard involving dirt, maybe plants, certainly something of limited utility. When she got around to lounging as the day clearly called for, there would be some quality lap time and ear scratching in Evie’s future.

Thru the soft sounds of steady traffic along the cross street and her person dirt churning, Evie overheard the neighbor’s front door open, and the burst of scampering paws bounding down the steps then attempting to cover every inch of the small yard and patio in quick succession. She braced herself for the impending onslaught that always accompanied the new puppy’s arrival. So much enthusiasm in such a small package.

There was a pause, there’s always a pause, then several quick steps running up the fence, continuing up the fencing slats, and Franking calling out from just above the fence line.

“Hi there...” Followed by the soft sound of a puppy falling back to earth, a head shake, then a repeated run.
“Evie...”
“Evie…” 
“It’s me…”
“Frankie…”
“Remember me?…”
“Are you…”
“In the sunshine?”
“I love sunshine…”
“It’s the best.” This last drop to earth is followed by soft panting as Frankie gathered herself for another set of run and jumps.

With only the slightest shift of her weight, angling her view toward the panting sounds behind the fence, Evie dained to respond. It did no good to ignore Frankie. She would either have to engage or abandoned her sunbeam.

“You know I can hear you from there, right?”

Short legged footfalls to and up the fence, “Yeah, sure…”
“I just like…”
“To see…”

The jingle of a leash sounded down the steps, and Frankie switched to pacing back and forth along the fence line.

“I’m going for a walk. Do you go for walks? They’re so fun. My mom is taking me. We’ll go see the boy who bounces a ball for me. Have you met him? He’s just up the street. We’re friends, and he bounces the ball every time.”

The people talked to each other over the fence. Probably something riviting about the weather or plants.

“You want to come walking too? It’s super fun. I like all the houses. And there are more cats. I saw them. They are nice, but didn’t have time to talk. Not like us. We have great talks. You could meet the boy. You’d like him. He has a ball.”

“I don’t need anymore people, Frankie. I think I’ll just stick with my person here.” Evie could feel the sunbeam slipping away, and scootched just a bit closer to the edge of the step to hold the warmth.

“Ok, I’ll check on the neighborhood, and let you know how it’s going. Gotta go. Blocks to see. Gotta keep an eye on things,” Frankie called this last bit over her shoulder as she wound around her “mom’s” ankles.

The chatter faded, but did not cease as Frankie trotted down the block. “Mom, did you see Evie on the porch. She found a sunbeam. We should have more sunbeams. Oh, look, a squirrel!”

The afternoon settled back into the low hum of traffic and bird noises, but Evie knew it was only temporary. Since Frankie had moved in a couple months ago, she’d picked up on her patterns. The walks were short to match her Corgis legs, and she loved to report back everything she’d seen from her low angel vantage point. Highlights often included brief squirrel sightings, the damn boy and his ball, and people’s sock choices. Evie rolled back over to sit at the very edge of the sunny porch step with her feet tucked under and her tail wrapped around. From this vantage point she’d be able to see Frankie’s person coming back down the block, and just maybe pick that moment to head back inside.

====

It’s a drizzly morning, but warm enough that sitting in the window sill isn’t too cool. Evie watched water drops run down the glass, considered her plans for the day. This sitting would likely lead to a nap, then there would be time for a good grooming session in the big chair before her person got home.

“Evie?…” exhale on the drop, scratching back up the fence.
“Is that you?…”
“In the window?…”
“I think I see you there…,” panting.

The window was cracked open, just a bit. It opened out, so the rain dripped off safely outside.

“It’s wet out..”
“Here…”
“Are you getting…”
“Wet in the…”
“Window?”

“No, Frankie, I’m nice and dry, and I can still hear you from the ground.”

“Oh, sure…”
“But I think…”
“If I keep moving…”
“The raindrops…”
“Won’t catch me”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Oh, no…”
“It’s way better…”
“If I keep…”
“moving.”
“I need…”
“Your help…”
“There is…”
“A crime.” the scampering slowed to a slow pace, accompanied by usual panting.


Evie maintained a placid, disinterested visage, but her ears quirked just a fraction. A crime might be interesting. But what could this pup know about crime?

“How did you come across a crime?”

The last set of jumps had taken a lot out of Frankie, so she was flopped down right against the house, where if she really craned her neck, she could see just into the window over fence.

“The boy with the ball,” a breathy statement. “He wasn’t there. Something must have happened to him.”

This did not sound like a crime to Evie. “Sometimes people aren’t outside, Frankie. It doesn’t mean there was a crime.”

Frankie sneezed, and shook some of the wet off. “But it has been several walks. He was always there, and now he isn’t. What if someone took him?”

“That’s ridiculous. Maybe his people just got rid of him. They do that.” Evie had been in the shelters, so she was no stranger to the transient nature of people. A very unreliable crowd. Frankie was in her first home, and her faith and attachment to people was much stronger.

“What if he is lost and scared. Can you go look for him? My mom doesn’t like walking in the rain, and the sitter goes the wrong direction. Please, Evie. Please!”

“Fine,” Evie stretched and rolled against the glass. It was always easier to appease the kid. “I will take a look if I get out later. Which house was the boy at?”

Galway - boats and cliffs and bands, oh my

Galway was to serve as my jumping off spot to tour the surrounding areas, and for a quick take on the big ones, decided to go the guided tour route.  It's ind of nice to sit back and let someone else handle all the arrangements and decisions.  I just needed to get on and off the bus at the right times.  I can see why a lot of people prefer this when traveling.  It's unchallenging, and you know you're seeing all the correct high points.

I booked the Aran Islands/Cliffs of Moher combo pack thru Galway Tour Company for my first full day in town, so if I really liked one or the other, I would still have time to go back and revisit at more length, if I wanted to. This outing would involved the high seas and a lot of heights.

It was a twisty ride thru country roads that seemed ill suited for tour buses as big as ours, but tons of them traversed back and forth none the less.  Got the guided banter for all the small towns, some light humor about rocks and a Trump wall reference, all the good stuff.  Pulled into Doolin to hop the ferry to Inisheer.  Seems were lucked out and scored the brand new express boat which would make the crossing in roughly twenty minutes.  Roughly is an accurate term, because that was some roller coaster action on the Atlantic.  I think we had fairly calm seas, but at least a few times my heart was in my throat.  Didn't get that many photos during the crossing to a very real fear of either me or my camera being pitched over the edge.  Got a little sea spray in the face, but at least it wasn't raining.

Inisheer, which apparently just means island, is very quiet.  There are less than 100 cars even on the island, and I expect that may mean there is one per family living there.  It's mostly horse and traps available to take tourists around the island, and they can make the full circuit in about an hour.  I opted to just walk around, so while I didn't cover every sight, I had a nice quiet time poking around the village and finding my way up to the fort and back thru some odd trails.  As I mentioned there area few houses, but I didn't really see anyone around.  Quiet houses with well kept little yards and laundry drying on the lines.  All the people I saw appeared to be tourists like me, just looks looing around.  Gotta be strange having your street just fill up with tourists a couple hrs a day, then go dead quiet by 5:00PM.

It's a cool place where two hours was just about enough to take it in, but I could see it serving as a nice retreat.  Like if you needed peace and quiet to think thru a project, write a book, stuff like that.

Back to the boat for the long way a back, checking out the Cliffs of Moher from the water side.  That trip was a little rougher, but I scored a great, fairly sheltered seat on the top deck.  Had a great view of everything, and got to "enjoy" the family bitch session of a group from Boston on one side and a fairly cranky English lady who felt that which ever way she looked people were in her way and should make way for her to have an unobstructed view, which ever direction she wanted that view to be.  Ah, other people...

The cliffs are awe inspiring for sure.  You can see tiny people walking along the top, and birds swooping everywhere.  It seems chunks of the cliffs still break away from time to time, a fact that I was far more aware of when walking along the top.  There is a huge cave opening that was featured in Harry Potter somewhere, so now they just call it Harry's cave, which seems a little sad.  Surely that cave has been around a lot longer and could have more old times associations to name it after, but they love their Potter.

It was an overcast, slightly foggy day, but a really stunning boat ride overall.  Sadly there were more than a few who succumbed to the motion sickness.  I heard the on board bathrooms were not a safe place to go.  Also, the crew were all just cute as can be, so big thumbs up to the Doolin Ferry Company.

Back on the bus, to head to the top of the cliffs.  Our guide was very insistent we be back at the bus on time, otherwise the staff start a search for you.  If they don't find you wandering around relatively quickly, then they call in the coast guard.  It seems some folks decide to meet their end from that spectacular height, and it would be incredibly easy to do.  We only had an hour to walk around, and I could see spending more time.  The view from the top is amazing.  The official park has lovely wide walkways, well set up view points and a nice firm wall to keep you from the windy edge.  However, at the end of the park is an official path that keeps going.  There is a small walkway with a low rock barrier a good 10-15feet away front the edge, but clearly over the years plenty of people have walked along the side outside the little wall.  You can go right up to the edge and look over, if you're a crazy person.  The height and unpredictable wind are ominous as hell, and yet there is a draw to get a little closer, see a little more.  I started snugly behind the barrier, but in more solid looking spots, started to venture out a little closer to the edge.  After a few great photos, some closer looks, I felt my heartbeat pick up, and remembered that bits of cliff are breaking off all the time.  Hustling back to the wall side, I headed back to the bus having played with danger enough for one day.

Back in town, it was time to check out the nightlife properly, and Galway does not disappoint.  I did get into McDonagh's (which always sounds like McDonalds when the locals say it), and their fish and chips are awesome.  I don't know if I've ever really had it made with truly fresh fish (and you can pick from a list of different fishes to have fried up), and the mountain of chips are so hard to stop eating.

Loaded up with fried goodness, I wandered around looking for music.  Stumbled across Busker Browns where they had no less than a 12 piece jazz band in there, full brass section playing swing, torch and jazz tunes.  A really great show that wrapped up with Sinatra style cover of Wonderwall about midnight.

Sure, midnight seems like a good time to all it a night, but not for this trip.  I have a liver whose limits are not yet truly tested, and I had randomly made out with anyone yet.  What kind of Monday night is that to have?

James the tour guide had said the Quays was a good spot for the young people, and while I don't really fit in that category, couldn't resist checking it out.  It wasn't all young people, but it did look like the inside of a pirate ship in there.  Another big place that seems to have three levels opening into a central area from various directions.  I was going to pass it by for the night, but the band was amazing!  Three Legged Dog is a local band and they are so fun, in addition to all be hot as hell. It's sort of country/folk thing doing some traditional tunes and some fun covers. I enjoyed the countrified version of Paradise City which somewhat improbably mashed up with the theme song to the Fresh Prince, and anyone who plays songs from the Jungle Book will always have my heart.  Weirdly enough they also did a version of Wonderwall, so I was taking in more Oasis in one night than I have in years.  If they have an album, I want it.

After the final number, the bar began to empty, and some dude from New York asked me for directions.  He was 27 and just getting started on three months traveling in Europe, so it was fun swapping stories on travel experiences.  I did more the of the hostel stuff when I was younger, so can identify with the downsides he is experiencing for the first time.  Naturally, then he wanted to come back to my place, and I'm finding guys who want to hook up at least in part because they don't like their sleeping accommodations otherwise to be a turn off.  I was not interested in sleeping with this dude, and his claiming to have no idea how to find his hostel again was not the sympathy winning gambit he was shooting for.

Sigh, bring something useful to the table, guys.  You need to be really hot or super charming.  Funny or talented can also draw my attention, but while I was laughing at him a lot, it was just that, at him.

Back to the room near 2:30, so today was a morning for sleeping in.  Finally rolled out around lunchtime, and decided to walk on over to Salthill.  It's a little resort town outside Galway.  I had considered staying there, and really glad I stuck with the city center instead.  There isn't alot out there beyond lots of vacation rentals, hotels and some cute looking eateries on a charming main drag.  The beach walk is really nice, but after doing that, I was pretty much done.  Caught the bus back into the center, and focused on catching up with this stuff over coffee.

Pretty much another day of relaxing, but you can bet I'll be back out again later tonight.  Maybe Galway is just my night owl plan. The hotel is in a great location, and the town is super cute.  I've got one more full day, and trying to decide if I want to do another day trip, vs hanging out around the town.  Decisions, devisions.  The tours are generally back about 5:00, so could continue to keep my Galway town time to the after hours just fine.  Maybe I'll take it easy in Portrush, though with Dingle as an example, the beach towns don't guarantee and early bed time.  I think the bar closing time is earlier Northern Ireland though, so just maybe I'll get a few more Zs before this is all done.

Farewell Dingle, hello Galway, and my liver may never forgive me

There is every chance my attempts to take in all the nightlife will be the death of me, and is probably cutting into my properly absorbing all the culture around me.  Nine days left in this adventure, and not sure how long it'll take to rehydrate when this is all done.

Exhibit A, day two in Dingle.  It was a gorgeous morning.  The sun broke thru the clouds intermittently, and a stiff breeze pushed them across the sky.  I woke up early enough to catch breakfast, starting the day right (if only on a couple hrs sleep).  After some food and finally pulling myself together, I set out to explore Dingle in daylight.

Basically covered the circuit, looped the town, scouted out a chowder shop, then discovered this sort of cow path that runs east out of town, along the water.  It must have been a couple miles, but I could see some kind of stone tower (there is always some kind of stone tower) on the point where the bay runs out to the Atlantic.  It was so pretty with sea birds riding around on the breeze, and cows chilling out in the various fields it winds thru. Must admit, was running empty by then, but when it appeared that I could actually reach the tower I was committed.

It was a beautiful view of the bay, and the ground was actually dry enough to sit on for a bit.  One of the dolphin tour boats was circling in the general direction of the mouth of the bay, so figured I'd see if I could get a Fungi sighting out of this walk as well.  Fungi is a dolphin who has made the harbor home, and comes out to play with the various tour boats.  He's so reliable, the tours have a money back guarantee .  No sighting means a refund.  It looked like this tour was having to work for it, but it paid off.  I spotted Fungi!  Sure it was just a glimpse at quite a distance, but totally counts.  Basically hit all the key Dingle sights, and could head back for a nap.

Tried to enjoy the stellar view from my hotel a bit, but probably just dozed off.  Then it was time to head back out for the entertainment part of the evening.  Stopped in at a waterfront bar first, for dinner and determine if it was a place I wanted to hang out for some music.  Enjoyed a mountain of local muscles in a delicious broth, but didn't see anything that made me want to stick around.

Next stop was a bar Rick Steve's is a big fan of for local music.  Upon entry, was pretty clear it was one of the hardcore traditional spots Rick seems to be a fan of.  The music is cool, but I kind of prefer the more folks song sing along stuff.  More on the light fun side, vs "art".  Hung out for the duration of a pint, chatted with a local old dude and a couple visiting from Jersey before striking out again.

Waked past this very fun looking courtyard attached to a bar brimming with people.  However, it looked like the bar was thoroughly under siege, and no entertainment on tap.  Decided to walk a little more, but had a solid fall back plan.  There appeared to be a search light swinging across the sky, and could not figure out any place that would be large enough to warrant this.  Not sure I ever actually found it's source.

Adam's looked like a very popular spot with music playing, but even in just the time I walked past it, it was looking like the clown car of bars.  I had dinner there the day before, and have no idea where all those people were even going.  Just kept pushing their way in.

Down and around the corner past the late night bar from the previous evenings (or was it really just early that morning?) kissing incident, discovered a place  that wouldn't seem out of place in Austin, TX.  A converted garage adjacent to a pub filled with sofas, picnic tables, light strands, and a stage featuring a really fun bluesy rock band.  The outside bar had minimal line and Jameson's, and both the lead singer and the drummer were super cute.  Success!  Looked like it was filled up with either the local youngsters or maybe kids whose families vacation here every year.  Some olds were hanging out too (I was not the oldest, a thing I find myself checking for more and more).

Their set wrapped up about midnight, and this is when I should have called it an evening.  It was beginning to rain again, and walking past the late night club it was experiencing the clown car phenomenon now, I'm guessing it's the only late night license spot in town.  Streams of people, all ages, were pouring into the doors on both sides of the building, so you can only imagine my better judgement took a holiday.  I was planning to catch the 10:15AM bus out of town, with every intention of catching breakfast too.  Midnight was not too early to call it a night, and yet...

Pushing my way into the shoulder to shoulder crowd thru the side door (I don't think Irish bars recognize anything as mundane as capacity limits), one of the first things to happen was a bro in plaid said I was the most beautiful woman, and asked if he could have a kiss.  Seemed like a perfectly reasonable response to the compliment, so I obliged.  No, I did not get his name.  It was hard to hear him over the music, crowd and accent, so I opted to push my way up to the bar, for judgement inhibiting refreshments.  Once I had that, ran into lover boy again, saying he thought we were in love, why'd I leave?  After a little more chatting and jostling with the still unnamed dude and his friend, honestly got a vaguely creepy vibe, so drifted further into the meandering club.

Wandered past the dance floor (seriously hear the Rock me Momma like a Wagon Wheel song everywhere I go.  Where did that even come from?) to the outside bar where I met a dude who worked as a chef in town.  I'm sure I did get his name at some point, but hell if I can remember it.  He seemed nice enough, maybe too nice.  Into the realm of earnest, and that is just not my jam.  Naturally, he the guy that stuck with me thru the rest of the evening.  He took me upstairs to another dance floor (Maybe clown car is the wrong reference, and should go with the Tardis effect.  They're bigger on the inside.).  Danced a bit and then there was some kissing.  I had a thought of ducking out, but he really insisted on walking me home.  While I have no doubt this insistence was mostly tied to a hope of getting laid, there appeared to be some chivalry in the mix as well, making it harder to break away discretely.

I was ready to call it a night.  Honestly, he was not a great kisser, so doing any more with him was not in the cards.  However, I was a bit curious about what it's like to live and work in this little town, so followed him a bit out of pure curiosity.  The rain had stopped when we broke out of the club, and he really wanted to grab cigarettes from his work.  There were still hotel staff hanging at the bar, and I expect some of the hotel guests.  It was a nice, old looking hotel, and we hung out for a drink there.  Again, I said I was heading back to my hotel, and again he wanted to walk me there.  The apparent belief that if he just remained in my orbit long enough, it would pay off was fascinating, if misguided.  On the way up the hill, he really wanted to stop in to his apartment.  Sure, I shouldn't be wandering around in the wee hours of the morning with strangers, but I kind of wanted to see how he lived.  It was an apartment , family standard.  Having seen it, I was more than ready to call this night over.  I put my foot down on the escort plan.  He was home, and should stay there.  I knew exactly where I was going, and would go there alone.  Good night, sir.

Naturally, I totally overslept my alarm in the morning, and had to leap out of bed, pull myself together, throw everything back in the bags in order to hustle it to the bus stop in time.  Missed breakfast, lovely tea with a view, all the best laid plans.  Was striking out on my most complicated travel day yet (bus to train to bus to bus) with a wicket hangover and a hydration level where my eyelids felt like they were sticking to my eyeballs.  It's mornings like this when I remember I'm a middle aged woman who should totally know better.

Luckily, every leg of the trip came off exactly as planned.  I made every connection, even the tricky one at Farranfore.  The change from train to bus meant walking to a stop a few blocks down the road.  I found the stop in front of the pharmacy, just as described.  There was a sign, and shelter and pull off spot for the bus, so it clearly looked like the right place.  However, I was meant to be traveling to Limerick, and it really looked like a bus to Limerick should be traveling in the opposite direction of where the stop was.  Maybe they did some kind of loop around the mini town, I don't know.  I was barely holding on, and certainly don't know all the ways of Irish transit.  Of course, that means my bus can down the road on the opposite side of where I was waiting for it.  Since it was a country road, it wasn't really any trouble to flag the driver and hustle over to the other side.  The driver asked me why, if I was going to Galway was I standing on the wrong side of the road.  Sure, why would I stand next to to the fully marked bus stop as opposed to on the opposite side of the road with no signage whatsoever?  Clearly I'm the foolish one here.  Tosser.  Not today with this!

The Limerick station offered the ridiculously blessed sight of a massive Starbucks.  I have been eating and drinking local for the trip so far, but I frickin' needed this!  A grande latte and toasted ham and cheese sandwich began to lure me back to the land of the living.

Also, in the land of excellent for planning, my Galway hotel was within two blocks of the bus station.  By 5:30 I rolling into my room, ready to collapse.  It's no where near as nice as the last couple places I stayed, but I'd rank it above the Dublin hotel.  Of course, any place with a bed and a door was good enough at that point.  Totally writing Sunday off as a travel/recovery day, and letting myself off the hook for any tourist achievement points.

I did decide after a couple hrs of rest that I would need to seek out some food.  Did a quick loop of the old town pedestrian area filled with shops and restaurants.  It's really a lovely area, which I would come to appreciate more later, when not distracted by the rain, hunger and weariness.  I was too late for the highly recommended chip shop, so found myself circling a bit aimlessly, knowing I needed to eat something, but not really in the mood to interact with anyone.  Began to resent the whole need for sustenance at all.

Walking past Aire Square on the return loop, just looking for something to speak to me, when a couple guys, kids really, maybe early 20s, but could just as easily be teenagers, came walking up behind me talking about how much they love the rain asking if I like it too.  I think this kid was taking a shot at picking me up.  Saying to both me and his friend we should all grab a kebab and head back to his place.  His friend replied that he wasn't going back with him because he was tired, so he just turned to recruit me only.  There is almost no chance this kid doesn't live his parents, but of course now I really wanted a kebab.  I resisted following them to the kebab shop, as I was in no mood, but now I needed another kebab shop.  Hell, I was ready to settle for pizza.

Heaven sent, found a cafe on the next block with a widely varied menu, and they did have a kebab special.  I hustled my to go order back to my hotel room, and it may be the most perfect kebab I've ever enjoyed.  Found some Law & Order on the TV (it really can be found anytime anywhere.  Miracle TV) and called it a night.  I would get back on the tourist route on Monday.

Country livin'

Have been lax on the trip reporting this week, so will shoot for a summary vs day by day.

Left Dublin on a quiet, sunny Sunday morning.  Strayed from my public transit quest, because it was Sunday, the bus station was far away in a direction I was unsure of.  According to the cabbie, I was lucky to catch him, as the bank holiday Monday meant most taxi drivers would be catching z's before nightlife kicked up again.

The sunshine didn't hold on for long, and was soon cruising through the vivid green country side as the weather demonstrating what makes it all possible.

Cashel is a small town that appears to exist to support the Rock of Cashel heritage site.  Main street runs a few blocks with pubs, shops and hotels, with a some more hotels closer to the rock.  Seems I booked myself in the nice hotel for my one night.  Left my bags w/ reception and hiked up to the rock with my complimentary pass.  Ok, hike is an over statement, but it was about six blocks way with a slight uphill incline.  Not exactly roughing it.

Managed to hop in with a guided tour, and they have done a nice job of restoring the ruins.  It's one of those sites that's so old, they have to make some best guesses on parts of it's history. The view of the surrounding countryside is quite stunning, and the intermittent showers and cagey raven population add a charmingly ominous atmosphere to the hill top.

The hotel room was easily twice the size of my Dublin digs, so enjoyed a brief nap before checking out to the hotel bar for dinner.

Sundown is so late here.  Is it later than back home?

At dusks, made another pass by the rock, to see it lit up.  I'm not sure if the intent of the lighting is to highlight the ruins or play up the haunted vibe, but it certainly presents a ghostly presence just a couple blocks off main street.

As in Dublin, all the pubs where full of people enjoying the bank holiday weekend.  The pub full of middle aged locals dancing was a bit more exiting than I was up for, but found a seat outside across the street.  It's the sort of town where they know you're a tourist on site simply because they don't already know you.  If they don't already know you, your parents and your grandparents, you're clearly not from around there.

Chatted with a few born and raised locals, confirming my suspicion that they don't venture far from home.  The light rain turned into a torrential downpour, making a run for the hotel undesirable, so hung around a little longer watching revelers dash for taxis or send their dates to bring the car around.  Much like Seattle, they're used to more of the steady light rain than full on deluge.

I thought about stopping at one more pub, but upon stopping back at the hotel, realized to get back in, the reception desk had to open the door from the inside.  It was midnight, so decided to call it a night over bothering the front desk guy again.

Monday, fit in a full Irish breakfast before lining up to catch the bus to Cork.  Even the small version was a massive amount of food, and so good!

Hopped the bus for an easy two hr ride to Cork, then a very short change to Glounthaune (I will never get the pronunciation right for this place).  Jacqui was an incredible hostess.  She collected me from the bus stop, even though it was only about a block away, and showed me the little shop and pub nearby for orientation.

The little cottage in her back yard is gorgeous.  Full of art and restrored furniture.  Super homey, and a delightful place to spend the rest of the afternoon.  It was pouring out all afternoon, so gave myself permission to take the afternoon off and listen to the rain pound on the roof. Sometime around 9:00PM the clouds let up, and I did a quick walk around the neighborhood.  It's basically a wide spot in the road with a few neighborhoods overlooking tide flats, and an excellent spot to take a few easy days to check out the southern coast.

For Tuesday I caught the local train to Cobh, stopping in Fota along the way.  Fota has lovely little wildlife preserve, so spent a couple hours communing with mostly contained nature.  Cobh (formerly Queenstown) was the last port of call for the Titanic.  There's lots of tourist enticing places, but I just walked around the town in the rare sunny afternoon.  The cathedral is up on the hill, offerings spectacular view across the harbor.  It's very ornate, so I was surprised to see it was only built in the late 1800s.  See, more modern churches can be pretty (side eye to Adventists).  After an early supper, hopped the train back to my cozy B&B.

Wednesday, birthday day!  Had planned on checking out the distillery in Midleton, but Jacqui very generously offered to drive me into Kinsale.  I hadn't thought I'd make it out that far, so seemed a shame to pass it up.  Got to know her a little better over the drive, and she gave me a quick overview of the town as we passed thru.  Beautiful little Victorian harbor town on fairly steep streets all around the cove.

Started just outside of town in Charles Fort (not Fort Charles apparently, as bar mates seemed confused when I called it that).  Very well maintained grounds, history exists.  Learned a bit about Irish participation during WWI.  Ducked out of the rain into the tea shop, beginning to really love how they serve it up with cute little tea pots and milk.

Took a little walking trail into town, and the rain really started to pick up.  Busted out the handy poncho, but still got dry wet around the knees.  The trail came out at the Spaniard (possibly the oldest pub in town), and decided to warm up with a whisky.  I don't think the bartender expected me to say yes when he suggested warming up with a double, but it seemed like a capital idea.

Claimed a seat in the corner to dry off and write a bit.  An aged lobster fisherman chatted me up, and I think he was asking me to join him for drink at another place.  I did pass on that, as I was struggling to understand him already.  Ventured back into the deluge, undeterred from checking out the rest of the town.

By the time I was thoroughly soaked again, arrived at Fishy Fishy, the fancy restaurant that pretty much all the guide books and Jacqui recommended.  For birthday dinner treated myself to an amazing seafood chowder, lobster and sticky pudding.  So full of food, but totally worth it.

Hopped the bus back into Cork in time to check out the downtown area as all the shops were shutting down, and scouted out a pub with live music.  First stopped at one spot in the city center, and it was clearly a tourist pull.  Lots of Americans around the place.  The wisdom of the internet recommended another bar across the river for the more "authentic" experience.

Sin e was a very small place, but snagged a seat at the bar next to a bunch of old dudes who were clearly regulars.  They were funny, and clearly it was my day to chat with the elderly bar clientele.  Finally, a dude under 60 chatted me up, and he bought me a drink.  I hadn't really planned to have another, but hung out with him and his friends for at least the one drink.  Paul was working in Cork that week with his brother in law and nephew for the family roofing business.  They were all quite nice, but I had to run and catch the last train back to Glounthaune.

Back in the village, I figured I would cap my day with one more drink in the local pub.  Guess what, it was filled with old dudes!  Chatted with the regulars a bit before calling it a night.  Got back to an email from Jacqui hoping I was safe. Apparently, a little worried I may have fallen off some cliff in Kinsale.  I'm not used to anyone noting when I get home, so hopefully didn't worry her too much.

Thursday was for laundry and whisky! Not together, but that sounds like a perfectly fine plan.  Caught the bus to Midleton where they have the Jameson Experience.  Scored a slot on the tour starting just ask arrived, and learned all about triple distillation and barley drying. Got picked for the tasting portion of the tour, comparing Jameson against American and Scotch whisky.  No surprise the Jameson was easily the smoothest.

After tasting had an early dinner at Farmtable, another delightful restaurant, and a fantastic seafood pie before heading home.

Friday meant saying goodbye to Jacqui and Glounthaune.  Back to the bus! It was my first schedule hiccup with the bus schedule, as it was late getting to the Cork station, just missing the connection to Tralee.  Not a big deal, but did have to wait an hour for the next one, and that meant having spend longer waiting for the connection from Tralee to Dingle.  This had me rolling  into town at 5:30

The bus ride from Tralee was amazing.  Rolling hills slopped down to the water then shot up into mountains.  Naturally it was raining, but still a gorgeous drive.  Looking forward to enjoying it on the way back as well.

It's a bit of a hike from the Dingle bus station to the hotel on the hill, but totally worth it.  The view is fantastic, and the room is super fancy.  I hadn't intended to go fancy in Dingle, but everything was booked up for this big adventure race.  It's pricey, but it's awesome, and incredibly attentive service.  Could have chilled in the room or one of the parlors all evening, but needed to check out the town!

Dingle is another ridiculously charming town with a Main street bursting with restaurants and pubs.  Stopped in at Adam's for an excellent bowl of chowder just bursting with fish.  I want to eat all the soups all the time.

After that stopped into the Dingle Pub where they had likely sing along folk music.

Finished the evening in a pub that seemed to be where the young folks hang.  More live music, but playing more recent pop favorites.  I did not realize country western music is very popular in Ireland.  These pubs seem very small when you first walk in, but extend back in a warren like fashion.  Found a spot by the back bar, and chatted up Patrick, probably the only other person over 35 in the place.  He was in town from Killarney to check out the music.  I suspect he may be a bit of a music snob, and he looked a lot like Randall from the Outlander series.  I allowed him to buy me a couple rounds until it seemed like a perfectly good idea to make out with him at the bar.  So much for representing maturity. It's been a long time since I made out with a dude at a bar, and I really should do it more often.  Good times.

He walked me back to my hotel, with every hope of being asked in.  However, I really wasn't looking to share my luxurious hotel room with anyone, so sent him on his way.  If he'd looked more like Jaime in Outlander I might have reconsidered.

It's almost sunny, or intermittently sunny, in Dingle today, so gotta get out there.

So much to do, I'm watching the game

6.3.17

Think I need to work on a better story for what I'm doing here and why.  Being a middle aged loaner wandering this earth is odd.  It confuses people.  Maybe come up with alternative explanations for at least the chit chat queries.  Maybe I came to Europe for a work thing, and am hanging around for some vacation after. Or maybe I'm rendezvousing with a friend at some point.

Did get a full night's sleep, even if it did mean sleeping until noon. Late start, but feeling refreshed.  Spent a couple hrs typing on a park bench in the park, some in sunshine, more while watching the rain fall and park goers scatter from the safety of a tree sheltered bench.

Returned to Carluccio's just in time to snag a table before the clouds really broke and everyone else also started looking for shelter. I like the vibe, lattes, free wifi, and now will at delish bread pudding to what calls me back. (Trying to decide if the addition of raisins is positive or unforgivable.  Indecision may suggest it'll come down in their favor.

Believe I've picked my game watch spot, and basically killing pre game time taking it easy and hydrating. Hala Madrid! If I'd realized the game was actually happened just over in Whales, would have toyed with the idea of going there, but will just be happy watching it in the same time zone.

I'm a tourist, own it

6.2.17

29,262 Steps

Between jet lag and Dublin nightlife this is not a restful vacation thus far.  So little sleep. My hydration plan is coming up short too.

Focused on the "must see guided tour" stuff for vacation day two, and good thing too.  Am still exhausted.

Made it up in time for the complimentary continental breakfast, and my hotel appears to really believe in the carbo load approach to breakfast. Coffee, orange juice, cereal, toast (Irish bread continues to rock), croissant, and passed on the additional pancake.  Loading up paid off, however, as I didn't make time to stop again for another twelve hours.

Began the day with the Trinity College campus tour, and it must be strange to attend school someplace that so welcomes tourists to wander freely around campus.  Our guide was a charming kid who just graduated with degrees in Spanish (holla!) and Business.  Much like other campuses I've seen the architecture is a bit hodgepodge, and apparently they have historically have dodged paying architects.

The line for the Book of Kells was long, but wrapped around a sunny square, moving quickly  enough.  Really enjoyed the illuminations, but my interest in vellum and ink prep may be a little less that the exhibit expects.  Loved the long library room upstairs.  Oddly drawn to the smell of musty books.

Decided to walk to Kilmainham Gaol, which may have been overly ambitious. It's only about 2 miles, and seemed like a good way to check out the city at eye level.  The regular length tours were sold out for the day, but the highlights tour was just about right.  Dad would dig this place.  It's rich with history, and a bit of a gut punch on the tragedy angle (so Irish).

Had planned to hit the Guinness Storehouse on the way back, but by the time I got there was just too tired to take on the crowds for beer, of all things.  Will just have to try it in a pub at some point.  Finished the hike back to the hotel in order to get of my feet for a bit.

Snapped awake from an unintended nap about 8:30 and rallied for a stroll Temple Bar.  By now had moved beyond hungry, so discovered possibly the best pizza of my life (level of hunger may  play a it into that standing, but it was just really good).  I can hardly recall a time I've been as happy as I was standing on the sidewalk outside Dublin Pizza devouring a spicy 9 inch pie.  Transcendent.

Temple Bar on a Friday night feels very much like a couple blocks out of the French Quarter in New Orleans.  Music and revelers burst out of bars along a several block stretch, and the  literature isn't kidding about it being the bachelor/hen party mecca.  Loads of pre wedding revelry happing everywhere and accompanied by all the tacky wardrobe you might expect.

Found a spot to enjoy the more traditional music for a couple hrs and ciders, before headed back towards the hotel thru the Grafton Street area which appears more subdued in the midnight range.

Since I was going to be hearing the music from Dublin House next door anyway, figured I should  at least go get a drink.  It appears to be this old manor house with a hjuge patio space they've converted into a rather vast club.  Lux easy chairs and patio furniture everywhere, and at least 3 bars that I found throughout.  The crowd seemed to vary in age range a fair amount, probably because it's a bit posh/pricey.

I'm going to like going out in Ireland. Met several charming gentlemen, before calling it a night about 3AM.  The music was starting to turn down by the time I turned in, and finally got a full nights sleep, even if it ran well into the following morning.

Arrival day

6.1.17

12,593 Steps

(Managed to get 7,603 steps out of travel day.  The time zone change played a bit of havoc with the fitbit, but for all the sitting still covered a bit of ground.)

I have arrived! Immigration and customs is pretty easy, and found the bus running near my hotel right away.  Arrived at the hotel way early for checkin, but marvelously they would be ready in about 30 min. Went on walk about Grafton, and many of the shops and restaurants were just starting to open. Found coffee and cruised St Stephen's Green in a soft rain.  Felt a lot like home.

Wasn't terribly adventurous overall.  Indulged in a bit of a nap, and went back out to see what goes on in the hood around happy hour.  Basically every pub is bursting with people.  This place is humming.  Actually found one of the Rick Steve's recommended pubs, and scouted a seat.  They serve cider over ice here. Maybe because they don't refrigerate the bottles?  After bight and bev, was pretty much done for.

Upon return to the Inn discovered my window nearly overlooks the terrace for a rather massive club located next door.  Oddly enough, I think it was when the music died down around 3AM when I woke up.  Pretty much lay there in a semi awake state for the next several hrs, before just giving in to start my day.