Enjoying the good ol' Irish crack ...
Don't worry everyone. I'm alive and well and contrary to the misspelt headline, I didn't develop a drug addiction during my week-long visit to Ireland. Pronounced crack, craic is an Irish word for enjoyment, usually when mixed with a combination of friends, alcohol and music. Most of you probably knew that, especially if you've seen Jimeoin's film. Expect to hear terms like "the craic was mighty" or "it was great craic" when you see me next. It will be a craic-up. Haha!
So here's the breakdown: after spending a bit too much time in Dublin, I embarked on a three-day tour of western Ireland over the weekend and made plenty of new mates (and had a few Guinness also). Apart from seeing the inside of an Irish pub, we witnessed the magnificent beauty of the Poulnabrone Portal Tomb, Clonmacnoise, The Burren, the Cliffs of Moher and Dingle Bay. Here's one of the many pictures I had taken with me at the famed cliffs. I'm suffering from a bad case of hat hair.
On Sunday we went to the Blarney Castle and I didn't kiss the famed stone. K-Beezer said it is meant to give you good luck for the rest of your life, but our awesome Irish tour guide said legend has it that you get the gift of the gab and I have that already. You could probably get "the gift of the scab" seeing how many people have kissed it. The castle was not worth the €7 entrance fee, but I got this funny photo.
Rather than spending my remaining time in Dublin when we got back on Sunday night, I headed straight to the airport to hire a car and hit the road as Northern Ireland awaited. I'll do a separate post on this. While I reckon I poured the equivalent of $A130 into my Toyota Corolla last night before returning the car to Budget (and that figure doesn't include their rates), I had a great solo adventure. The trusty car also provided me with accommodation in Belfast for one night after pulling to the side of the road to get a quick kip. As they say, a 15-minute powernap can save your life. Even when that quarter-of-an-hour turns into three hours and you wake up at 1.30am. Still, I can say that I survived a night on the streets of Belfast.
I also managed to survive wearing the same jeans for a week but my sniffly nose still persists. I should see a doctor.
So here's the breakdown: after spending a bit too much time in Dublin, I embarked on a three-day tour of western Ireland over the weekend and made plenty of new mates (and had a few Guinness also). Apart from seeing the inside of an Irish pub, we witnessed the magnificent beauty of the Poulnabrone Portal Tomb, Clonmacnoise, The Burren, the Cliffs of Moher and Dingle Bay. Here's one of the many pictures I had taken with me at the famed cliffs. I'm suffering from a bad case of hat hair.
On Sunday we went to the Blarney Castle and I didn't kiss the famed stone. K-Beezer said it is meant to give you good luck for the rest of your life, but our awesome Irish tour guide said legend has it that you get the gift of the gab and I have that already. You could probably get "the gift of the scab" seeing how many people have kissed it. The castle was not worth the €7 entrance fee, but I got this funny photo.
Rather than spending my remaining time in Dublin when we got back on Sunday night, I headed straight to the airport to hire a car and hit the road as Northern Ireland awaited. I'll do a separate post on this. While I reckon I poured the equivalent of $A130 into my Toyota Corolla last night before returning the car to Budget (and that figure doesn't include their rates), I had a great solo adventure. The trusty car also provided me with accommodation in Belfast for one night after pulling to the side of the road to get a quick kip. As they say, a 15-minute powernap can save your life. Even when that quarter-of-an-hour turns into three hours and you wake up at 1.30am. Still, I can say that I survived a night on the streets of Belfast.I also managed to survive wearing the same jeans for a week but my sniffly nose still persists. I should see a doctor.
posted by Jay Bee @ 8:59 PM
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