Bus Eireann

Day two in Ireland, Michael successfully got us to the bus depot in Dublin and on a bus to the west coast. After a short period on a busy freeway, the major freeway became a minor freeway - two-lanes - and our giant bus wound along country roads...

stopping in village after village...

The bus let us off just outside of town. We walked in, attempting to find a place to eat. We went into a place called The Nineteenth, a bar that advertised food, but didn’t actually have any. They sent us over to The Cornerstone, with a recommendation to order the Irish Stew. The Cornerstone was a lovely place. We stowed our bags under the table, ordered a beer and the cheapest things we could find on the menu (bangers and mash for Michael, seafood chowder for me.) But, within a matter of minutes we discovered that we were flanked on both sides by Americans, not Irish folk. Seven men were seated to our left, proudly from Florida, who asked us if we were here for the golf. They certainly were. An older couple sat to our right, from Ohio, who were drinking red wine and complained that the lasagna they ordered wasn’t good. Who orders lasagna at an Irish pub?

After eating and warming up - it was a gale force wind outside - Michael called the B&B from a payphone, and the hosts drove down and picked us up in town. Ronny and Maura explained that on a good day it was an easy walk to their place, but given the weather they thought it appropriate to pick us up. We were certainly grateful. It was cold, we were tired, and our packs were heavy.