Last night I dreamt that I pulled out all of my facial hair. My parents – reasonable, considerate, and loving as they are – have in them the capacity to irritate me beyond belief, and like no other. So my anticipation for the remainder of the trip’s Irish destinations is rivalled by my anticipation for our final destination: home, where ambitions of escape are boundless.
Most of today was spent on the road between Blarney and Donnybrook, which is in the southern outskirts of Dublin. We stopped in Cashel to see St. Patrick’s Rock (or “The Rock of Cashel”) – can’t go a day without a tourist trap, after all), which consisted mainly of the ruins of a massive stone cathedral. There wasn’t much to see beyond that, and any hope of getting off the ground up into a tower or something was halted by a locked iron gate. That, in addition to shuffling around amidst throngs of people it attracted helped it get old pretty quickly.
Much of the rest of the drive was along the edge of a valley, so the view was pretty awesome. Lots of stone structures from various eras still stand, unused. Lots of cows and sheep. Many, many small towns.
After 4.5 hours, a couple wrong turns and a lot of bank holiday traffic, we arrived in Donnybrook at 5:30, checked into the B&B, and got crappy service at some hotel restaurant. My dad and I commenced to a nearby bus shelter to explore the city.
We walked around for a couple hours, stopped in a cyber cafe (I was elated to discover about 30 new messages in my inbox, almost exclusively spam) and headed back, satisfied at having gotten a preliminary look at Dublin’s city centre. Tomorrow will be a more thorough exploration.
Stuck in my head: Morrissey – “Reader Meet Author”