Shouting into the Storm Rantings, ramblings, observations and musings from the insipid to the sublime

Killarney - Day 5

Saturday, May 13, 2006 :::
My initial impression of Killarney was wrong. It isn't like Gatlinburg at all. Actually, it reminds me more of a place like Burlington, Vermont. Killarney sits at the edge of Killarney National Park, which is about a million acres and has roughly that many options of things to do. We got a little taste of that today on our bus tour of the Ring of Kerry. Too many cool sights and sounds to describe here. The tour was roughly 6 hours long, following roughly this route. We saw mountains, rivers, sheep farms, coastlines and more. Off the top of my head, the highlights were the *STRONG* Irish coffee at our first stop, the crazy border collies and the sheppard, and an excellent view over two bays. Seriously, go Google Ring of Kerry and enjoy.

Two more notes about the tour. We got stuck in front of a few high school kids from the States. They were painfully unfunny, very unhip, and they were evangelical Christians. One had a shirt reading "Celibacy is for Lovers", the other "Pray to End Abortion". At one point they had an extended chat about their friend who they are in the middle of Converting. Like they were renovating a house or something. It was so tempting to toss something at them like "I'm glad we're married, because before we had gay lovers, lived in sin, had pre-martial sex, and heck, she's a heathen non-believer." But we didn't want to get their brains all over the bus. Because that would have pissed off our driver/guide/comedian, John. Lots of stories from John, but here's the best one:

A crow came up to a cow in the field, complaining of his health. "I'm done for, cow. My feathers are falling out, I'm losing weight, and I can't fly. It's been fun, though". The cow replies "Nonsense. Just follow me around for a few days and eat my droppings. You'll be right in no time." The crow, figuring he had nothing to lose, took him up on the offer. Sure enough, a few days later, he was feeling great. He could fly higher than before, caw louder, and was the picture of strength. To celebrate, he flew into the tree and caw'd at the top of his lungs. The farmer heard this, and annoyed to no end, got his gun and shot the crow dead. The moral of the story being that bullshit can get you to the top of the mountain, but can't keep you there.

Tonight it's off to dinner and a pub(both recommended by John our guide), and then off for an early-ish morning tomorrow. Directions claim a three hour drive to Doolin. What joy being in the car for that long. Again. If I had to guess, it won't be until we get to Galway that we'll have access to the 'Net. Hopefully at that time, we will have seen the Cliffs of Moher. Or we'll get hopelessly lost. Again. Who knows?

::: posted by Chris at 2:12 PM

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