London Calling

London calling, yes I was there too.
An' you know what they said - well some of it was true!

But before we get there, we have a full day of other things to get around to.

Like go to Anne Hathaway's house (on the right).

It seems there was this little fellow who lived back in the 15- and 1600's who wrote a few little plays and stories and such like that. I guess he had a sort of "following" back in the day, and even today some people like to read his stuff. You might have heard of him. His name was William Shakespeare. Anne Hathaway was his sweetie pie.

The cottage is in Stratford-Upon-Avon, a lovely little town on the banks of the Avon River. The flower gardens surrounding it are gorgeous and they are actually raising cabbage, beans, peas and host of other veggies. After her death, the house stayed in her family through the mid-1800s. Now it's owned by the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust, which conducts all of the tours and such.

I've read a lot about their relationship and some suppose that William grew to dislike and even hate Anne. I'm not sure about all of that, but it seems to me, after spending time in that house, that they loved each other very much, though he spent a lot of time in London with this plays.

Be all of that as it may, it was fun to spend time in her home. As you exit, there is a bulletin board (above) full of little sticky notes. What you're supposed to do is tell about how you met your significant other on a sticky, then tack it to the board. As you can see, many people obey.

In true Shakespearean fashion, I did so, too, but did it in verse form. I only had about 30 seconds to think about what I could write, so it's not anything fancy. But you can see the results just above. See? Even in England I was thinking about you, sweetie!

Now, I've been a fan of the Bard for any number of years. I love Hamlet, have memorized parts of Macbeth and Henry V, and can even quote a sonnet or two. So being able to go to the house (left) where he was born...priceless.

They have beds there that were being used when little Billy was just a pup. They have actual utensils and cooking implements he might have actually used.

The only problem with the time we were able to spend in his house is that it went by WAY too fast. Not only that, but Jacob hadn't eaten all day. So finding a place that served something his finicky pallet would accept took quite a bit of our time. As far as we could tell, there's no BK hanging out on the corner in this little burg (Wiki pic at right). Plus, daddy had to desperately find a place to, um, shall we say, call his bookie. So, we wandered the streets until we found a place that made chicken nuggets, blasted out of there with nuggets in hand like our pants were on fire, and got back to the bus as the last ones on. Whew! Talk about your whirlwind romance!

The next stop on the road to London was Oxford. You know, the university I couldn't go to even if I wanted to? This town, for centuries called "The Most Beautiful Town in England", partly because of its famous Dreaming Spires, has more than the university, though. It also has Christ Church (left). Christ Church is not only a cathedral, but a working college.

Started in 1525, its members include Albert Einstein, William Penn, Lewis Carroll, John Locke (hurray Lost!), and John Wesley. Founded, suppressed and refounded by Henry VIII ("I got married to the widow next door, she'd been married seven times before, hick!"), it is the setting for many famous adventures, such as Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, and will probably be interesting to some of my readers because The Great Hall was used in the Harry Potter movies. You can see my picture of it on the right above. Was that a snowy owl I just saw fly by?

You might also recognize the steps in the picture to the left. These are the actual steps that were used in some of the opening scenes of the first Harry Potter movie, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (in the US you might know it as Sorcerer's Stone). Don't ask me who the gal is in the photo. She climbed up there to get her picture taken just as I was snapping my picture. I didn't feel like waiting for her to move.

When we got finished buying Jacob another sweatshirt (this one from Oxford) we got back on the bus and drove to our final destination...London. Can you hear that? It's Big Ben!

I'll save you all of the boring facts about going to the hotel, catching a train, riding the subway, etc, etc, etc. Suffice it to say that we finally got to London and got on the London Eye (giant Ferris wheel across the Thames from Big Ben) that carries you way above the city skylights, and scares the wee wee out of anyone afraid of heights (I'm raising my hand). I was not anxious to go near the edge of our gondola, instead preferring to remain at the center, lest I have some embarrassing staining issues in front of everyone. But I did get in, and ride around, as you can see above. That's the Elizabeth Tower behind us. It's where Big Ben actually is.

INTERESTING FACT ALERT

Did you know that Big Ben is not the name of the tower, but only the bell that is contained within? Yea, neither did I. It was probably named in honor of a guy named Benjamin Hall back in 1856. Now you have something semi-interesting to tell your nietos, don't you?

After riding the London Eye, we ate, we saw, we rode The Tube/train back to our hotel. When we finally got there, literally at about 1am, I walked down to the front desk and called a cab.

Ruh roh.

Something wrong?

Yea. Jacob was hungry.

The restaurant in the hotel was closed, the kabob place down the street was closed, and so were all of the pizza joints I called. Including Dominos.

So what did we do? Well, like I said, we called a cab. "And where did you take that cab?" he asks knowingly. If I tell you that there was a red-haired clown in the window, a giant, golden M in the front of the establishment and a big box of chicken McNuggets in our lap as we rode away, will that give you a good enough clue?

But oh, boy. Ground up chicken lips never tasted so good!

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Coming soon - Part VII - Abbey Road

Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch

Yea, I know. It looks like I lay down on my keyboard when I was typing the title of this entry. But I really didn't. That's the name of a town we stopped in today. It's Welsh for "The church of Mary in the hollow of the white hazel near the fierce whirlpool and the church of Tysilio by the red cave." If you'd like to hear how it's pronounced, go here. More on that town a little later.

Early this morning we got up in Dublin and headed by bus, of course, to a port where we caught a ferry over to Wales. It was more than your average, every day ferry, though. It was ENORMOUS. Unfortunately, I do not have a picture of it, but the picture above is the view I had from my seat. From here I was watching the clouds and rain go by. It rained the whole way across the Irish Sea. I mean, it rained! You can't really see that from the picture, but trust me, it poured. The picture to the right is of the inside of the one of the nine floors. If you look closely, or if you blow up the picture, you can see that the woman sitting there is picking her nose. Can anyone say "snack time"? OK, that wasn't called for.

While we were on the "luxury liner", Jacob and his buddies played hide and seek on several of the floors. I only saw them about two times during the whole three hour tour (I've heard that somewhere before), but I figured they weren't going anywhere, right? I just sat in my seat and relaxed, read, played some games and dozed.

When we finally arrived in Wales it had stopped raining, thankfully. But before we knew it, we were through security (Passport, please. All right, have a nice time in Wales) and back on the bus. To the left you'll see Jacob with one of his buddies as we stepped off of the ferry. Gymru is how they spell it.

We were only in Wales for about six or seven hours, but one of those hours was spent in the aforementioned lovely little town of "The church of Mary in the hollow of the white hazel near the fierce whirlpool and the church of Tysilio by the red cave" (easier to say it that way).

Jacob ate a cookie and bought a sweatshirt for himself and one for his sister, we went over to the train station and took a few pictures and then it was time to, you guessed it, (all together now!) GET ON THE BUS, GUS! "Oh joy! Rapture"!

To the left you'll see Jacob getting back on the bus (he wasn't even forced!), and if you look closely you'll see our new bus driver. I don't remember his name right off, but he was grumpy. Just look at his face, for Pete's sake!!

Now, imagine, if you can, riding along on a Greyhound-type bus with a grumpy bus driver (Danny left us in Ireland - alas, no more Riverdance), the heater cranked up so far that it literally burns skin, and 50-60 tired, sweaty hungry folks headed for no-one-knows-where (but I bet it had a LONG name!).

That's the situation in which we found ourselves after leaving The Church of Mary (for short). And to top it all off, the bus broke down! Sitting by the side of the road while our bus driver threw a wet towel on the engine to cool it down, we were treated to The Village People and The Electric Slide. People dancing in the aisles, flailing their arms and hands all over the place, with the music set on full. Want proof? I give you, as evidence (to the right), The Dancing Queen (she's going to kill me).

Once the bus had cooled down a bit, we were back on the road again ("Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway").

We finally made it to a little town named Conwy, Wales, where our tour director cut us loose. She said she wanted us back in 3 1/2 hours, but other than that, we could do what we wanted.

Can you say "Release the Kracken"?

I just had to say that again.

So, here we are in this small town with a MONSTER castle called Conwy Castle and nothing else to do. Now this I can dig. What a paintball war grounds this place would make! It was SWEEEEEET!!

Built in 1288 by King Edward I, this place had battlements, draw bridges, dungeons and a wall that surrounded the entire town! We stopped in a little restaurant and ate some fish and chips (Jacob had chicken and chips), but the rest of the time we spent exploring the castle and walking the entire length of the wall. Talk about cool. This was one of my favorite parts of the trip.

While we were walking around the wall, we came to the little archway shown in the picture below.

Look carefully. You see Jacob on the other side? He's not holding his head, right? That means he looked at the little sign toward the top left of the arch and followed its advice.

Did his dad? You want to see the divot in my cranium?

I honestly didn't see the sign and didn't even notice that the archway was MUCH shorter than I am. Being short my whole life I'm not used to having to duck.

I mean seriously, how short were these people? The funny thing is, I took this picture BEFORE I whacked my head. How stupid am I?

No blood, thankfully, but I had a nice-sized headache the rest of the day, courtesy of Edward I, and an indentation in my skull that's only now starting to feel better. Thanks a lot Eddie.

It took us about an hour, but we finally made it all the way around the wall, just in time to get back on the bus. Coming into the town there is a very narrow archway that all buses must drive through to get to the castle. Our grumpy butt driver got our bus through it just fine, but our sister bus, with other kids from our same school, did not fare well. Their front door was ripped off. How's that for some fancy driving?

Little did we know that this would affect us a few minutes down the road.

So, here we are, motoring toward Manchester, England, everyone tired, hot and a little peevish, and what happens? You got it. The bus broke down again.

More dancing. More wet towels draped over the engine. More Village People. Argh!!

Now, I literally have several thousand songs on my Ipod and a couple hundred more on my Kindle Fire, both of which I had in my hands at this particular time. But I have absolutely ZERO by The Village People and ZERO that even mention sliding, much less with electricity. We had to listen to both, plus Adele.

Oh, please, sweet heaven, take me now!!

Coming soon - Part VI - London Calling

Dublin

Our last day in Ireland. And we spent it looking at a door.

Not really, but we did spend SOME time looking at a door. THIS door. The most photographed door in all of Dublin. It's located at 46 Fitzwilliam Square.

Why is it the most photographed door in all of Dublin?

A very good question. The answer is...

No one really knows. I even scoured the Internet to find the answer and couldn't find it.

But evidenced by the picture at the right, everyone on our bus got out and took a picture of it. Every bus that comes through the Georgian part of the city stops and everyone takes a picture of this specific door. But no one knows why. It was decorated for a Royal visit that never happened and the poor people went bankrupt

The fame of the doors of Dublin precedes them. Before we even got there I saw several calendars for sale in the gift shops that specifically showed "The Doors of Dublin".

I guess that back in the 70's, some guy did a collage of some of the doors in Dublin and hung it the window of the Irish Tourism offices in New York City. On their way to the NYC St. Patrick's Day parade, a lot of people saw it and requested a copy. So many people wanted one that a poster was commissioned and the doors have since been an icon of Dublin.

Oh, those wacky 70's!

After a short bus ride (I didn't get to say that much on this trip!), we found ourselves at St. Patrick's Cathedral. Built way back in 1191, it is the national cathedral for the entire Irish island. Interestingly enough, Jonathan Swift, who wrote Gulliver's Travels, was dean of the cathedral back in the early 1700's. His final resting place is in the cathedral itself.

Right inside the front door, as you soon as you come in, the first thing you see is the gift shop. Right there where they hold the services every week.

Can you say, "Clearing the temple," neighbor? I knew you could.

Next it was on to the large park they have in the middle of the city. It's called Phoenix Park and our tour guide, Gregor, told us that this park is large enough so that five Central Parks could fit inside it. (I looked it up and you could only fit two. Still, it's a stinkin' big park) It's got a zoo, the President of Ireland's home, a giant cross commemorating the Pope's visit, and also the second tallest obelisk in the world, behind the Washington monument in DC. (I looked it up. The Obelisk in downtown Buenos Aires, Argentina is actually 5 1/2 meters taller. Still...) It measures 62 meters and would have been a lot taller if funding had not run out.

By this time we're all famished and the tour bus cut us loose to do whatever we wanted. Um, get some lunch, maybe?

So, off we went into the wild blue yonder of Dublin to find some grub. We walked around a little while, when what to our wondering eyes should appear but a Burger King! Yes!!

We ordered our chicken and chips and went up to the bar stools upstairs, looking out the window at all the people. We watched them dance, sell books, prance around in odd costumes and make dogs out of sand.

Excuse me?

Yea, look closely at the picture to the left and you'll see what I mean.

After lunch we went walking around and saw any variety of things, such as a giant ogre, a midget (sorry, little person), a rock and roll band, and the five street entertainers at the right. They stood deathly still, supposedly for hours, until someone dropped some dough in the bucket in front of them, when they would all bow in quiet gratitude. Jacob dropped some coin in and they bowed at him, too. See the video below and left.

We were supposed to meet back at Trinity College at a certain time (my old, feeble mind won't recall specifically, but let's say 5:30pm), so Jacob, one of his buddies (Joe) and I decided we were going to go for a bus ride. You know, one of those double decker ones. I took the picture at the right from my seat. You can see the rugby ball I bought for Jacob at a rugby store for about $10.

Fun doesn't begin to describe what kind of time we had. We climbed up to the top floor and went to the very front of the bus, feeling every jolt and stop along the way. We watched in amazement as the driver nearly hit several people and several other cars.

Now, I've been a bus driver myself, and I've had some close shaves. But I could NEVER have gotten as close as this guy did. I mean, he was literally millimeters from the next guy's bumper. I swear he brushed against a pedestrian's shirt sleeve. I mean, this guy was CLOSE!

He motored us all around Dublin and then out into the suburbs and I started to look at my watch. Hmmm. We've been driving around now for 40 minutes and he's still going away from the city. We've only got 50 minutes to get back. How much further before he turns around?

So, I went and asked the driver.

"Is there another bus that goes back to Dublin?"

"Sure," he said in his lilting Irish accent. "Just get off at the next stop and wait for the 115 bus. Shouldn't be more than about 10 minutes."

"How long will it take to get back to the center of Dublin?" I asked nervously.

"Only about 40 minutes, depending on traffic."

Great. Stuck in the northern suburbs of Dublin, Ireland, on a deadline, and no way to get back, aside from waiting for the next bus.

So, we got off and waited for the 115.

About ten minutes later we saw the 115 coming down the road toward our stop. I stuck out my arm (which is how you make the buses stop, just like in Argentina), and he pulled over. We stepped up into the bus to show the driver our tickets, and who do you think is sitting there in the driver's seat?

Yup. Same guy that told me to get off and wait for the next bus. It was the same exact bus. Even today I just roll my eyes.

One of the things we saw while on our little jaunt around the Irish suburbia was a really cool looking bridge. It was designed to remind people of a ship, since Dublin is a port town and much of their commerce is supplied by the shipping industry. The picture to the right will give you some idea what it looks like. Two lanes going across, one suspension "mast". Pretty cool.

By the way, we also saw The Book of Kells at Trinity College today. It was created by Celtic monks back in 800 AD, and is a hand illustrated collection of the Gospels from the New Testament. It was amazing to see something that old that has survived this long. We weren't allowed to take any pictures of it, nor the big library that resides above it. The one to the left is one I got from Wikipedia. I know it's cheating, but sue me.

We also went to the National museum, specifically to see the bog bodies. These were bodies that were discovered in various parts of the world in bogs. I wrote about the bogs the other day. These bodies were so wonderfully preserved in the bogs, that you can see the hair, the jewelry and the tattoos they had while in life. The picture to the right is a shot of one of their hands that, again, I got off of Wikipedia. Notice the detail - the fingernails, the lines on the knuckles, the veins. Amazing.

They say some of these bodies are from the Iron Age, which is about 2,500 years ago. These were probably some of the oldest things we saw on this whole trip...and they were people!

Coming soon - Part V - Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch (no, I didn't make that up!)

Blimey, It's the Blarney!

Back on the blasted bus. Really?

Reminds me of the old joke.

Patient goes into the doctor for a physical. The doctor checks him over and says, "Joe, I think you need a new butt," to which Joe says, "Why Doc?" The doctor responds, "Because the one you've got has a crack in it!"

That may not be the most PC joke to tell on a blog, but it cracks me up every time I hear it. Pun intended.

ANYWAY, that's how I felt after yesterday's mammoth bus ride around the Ring of Kerry, coupled with the day and a half trip just to get to Killarney.

But here we are, getting back on the bus. Yippee!!

First stop today? Blarney, County Cork.

HISTORY ALERT!

Blarney Castle (picture to the left is Jacob standing in front of the castle) was built in 1466 by this chap named Cormac MacCarthy, the Lord of Muscry. The castle was besieged and captured and even changed hands a few times, but through all that time it contained, at the top of the battlements, what is known as the Stone of Eloquence, or the Blarney Stone. There are quite a few legends about the stone, but no one really seems to know its exact history. Some say it's a magical stone on which Irish kings were crowned. Suffice it to say that it's said that if you kiss the stone you will be given the gift of gab.

To do so, you've got to sit down, lean backwards over a sheer drop, grab a metal bar on each side, lean as far back as you can and pucker up. You can see me doing it in the picture on the right. Afraid of heights? Um, yea. But both Jacob and I did it...and we have photographic evidence, too. Notice how blackened the stone is where you're supposed to smooch. Icky is an understatement. But to go to Ireland and NOT kiss the Blarney Stone?

Inconceivable! Around the castle are some stellar gardens and a house, interestingly enough called the Blarney House, where people still live. Jacob and I actually took a tour of the house and learned some of its history (interesting). We also took a long walk around the grounds and gardens.

He and his buddies climbed some very large rocks (above left), saw some pretty flowers, waterfalls and streams, and climbed the Wishing Steps (above right). Legend has it that if you make a wish at the bottom of the steps, then climb up them with your eyes closed, your wish will come true. We all went so far as to climb them with our eyes closed, then descended them backwards, also with our eyes closed. So far, bupkis.

After jamming a large piece of pepperoni pizza down my neck and splashing a bottle of water past my Adam's apple, it was, you guessed it, back on the bus.

Another couple of grueling hours of trying to keep my neck from breaking, what with all of the nodding off and all, and we were in Cashel, County Tipperary. What are we seeing here? Another castle! Yea! Hurray castles! No, really. I really liked them. I was being serious.

HISTORY ALERT

According to the locals, the Rock of Cashel, or Cashel Rock, was originally built about 20 miles away in this mountainous area called The Devil's Bit in the 5th century after Christ. When St. Patrick banished Satan from a cave near there, the Rock was miraculously "catapulted" to where it is today.

OK, then.

Well, on the reality side, the Rock was the seat of the kings of Muster for several hundreds years. That is, until the Normans invaded. Bad Normans!

There is also a really big graveyard that kind of surrounds the castle. It overlooks the entire valley. You can see, from the picture on the right, why they chose this particular place to build a castle. I mean, they could see the enemy coming for miles and miles. "Sure, it's big enough, but look at the location!"

Back in the bus. Good thing we had good old Danny as our bus driver. It was a lot more pleasant with him on the trip, playing his Irish music and letting us watch the Riverdance dvd. "His legs flay about as if independent from his body!"

Coming soon - Part IV - Dublin

Ring of Kerry

Captain's log, star date 6.30.2012. Ring of Kerry.

Our first full day in Ireland started off rainy and drizzly, but we were lucky enough to have a covered carriage on our buggy ride through the streets and parks of Killarney. Our driver's name was Mike and our horse's name was Delilah. Such a good horsey.

We wound our way through the streets to Killarney National Park, which includes several lakes (teaming with salmon), two different types of deer (the red deer and the sika deer), and several castles.

We saw a couple of the deer, any number of birds (which I could not identify) and one very nice castle, called Ross Castle. It is on the shores of Lough Leane and was one of the castles ravaged by Oliver Cromwell during his rampage against the Catholics. Cromwell, I learned, is not very highly viewed by the Irish.

There is a legend about this castle that I found fascinating. It seems that it was owned back in the day by a guy named O'Donoghue. He is said to have been sucked out of one of the windows at the top of the castle, along with his horse, his table and his library. He disappeared into the lake and is now said to have a very elaborate palace at the bottom where he watches the castle on the shore.

After the buggy ride, which is actually called a jaunty car tour, we got on the bus and started on our drive around the Ring of Kerry. The Ring is a large loop around the western shores of Ireland and has some absolutely beautiful vistas along the rocky shoreline. First, though, we stopped off at a reproduction of a bog village. The bogs are like swamps where they harvest peat. This peat is decayed vegetation and is used as fuel for burning. The picture to the left is an example of one of their homes. Nice horse in the foreground.

Once we got going around the Ring of Kerry, we stopped at a small "farm", I guess you'd call it, for a demonstration on sheep and the dogs the shepherds use to make them go where they want. This demonstration was absolutely fascinating. The shepherd, using only words or a whistle, could make the dogs run way up the hill, guide the sheep to the right or to the left, and then safely guide them all the way down the hill. There are no bears, wolves or coyotes in the country, so the shepherds can leave their sheep out all night without fear of them getting eaten. It was so fascinating that Jacob said he wanted to move back to Ireland and become a shepherd.

After driving through some very nice little towns (Waterville had a nice little statue of Charlie Chaplin, at the left), stopping for lunch (shepherd's pie, yummmm), and watching Jacob sleep on the bus (zzzzzzzzzzzz), we finally came to the Atlantic coast. It's just like it looks in all of the calendars and photos you've seen your whole life. Rocky, forbidding, desolate and beautiful. Below are a few pictures. The two on the left were taken just up the hill from Waterville (where Chaplin used to rent a cottage when he wasn't making fun of Hitler). The one on the right was taken looking down the mountains back toward Killarney. Gorgeous spot. While we were here I kept thinking the words, "Release the Kracken!" Don't know why. Maybe it was because it was so stinking cold and rainy. Can you tell by the pix?

Then it was back on the bus (Geez! Do we ever get off of this thing?), down the

mountains along the twistiest (is that a word?) road I think I've ever been on, and back to good old Killarney and my dinky little room. No, really. I loved it. Just small...and noisy.

Dinner that night was roast beast with who pudding (we really had potatoes and veggies, but who pudding sounded better). Jacob no likey, so he didn't eat very much. His roommates all decided that they didn't like it much, either, so they all ordered a pizza from a local establishment. I think it was called Four-Star. Where did that last star go? We never did find it. His buddies ate all of it, though, so Jacob got nearly nill. I walked him down to Four-Star and bought him his own.

His growing teenage stomach was still growling, so we walked around and tried to find somewhere else to fill it up. That's when we found the King. They even had the crowns. I don't think we got one of those, but we did get the 9-piece chicken nugget meal with chips. At first I ordered it with fries, but the gal behind the counter looked at me like I had horns. It was then that I remembered my Irish manners and ordered chips instead. "Oh, right," she exclaimed. How callous of me. Me and my grotesque American ways. I should have remembered where we were.

That night was a better night than the first because my roommate wasn't quite as tired (a little quieter) and Jacob and I didn't get back until about 11 o'clock, AND IT WAS STILL LIGHT OUT!! You can't tell by this picture very well, but it was light out. I guess when you get that far north you're going to get that. It was light at 5am, too.

Anyway, I took Jacob up to his room and taped him in. What? Taped him in? Yup. His captors, as he called them, taped every kid's door so they'd know whether or not they'd been out of the room during the night. They were not allowed to come out until they got another knock on the door in the morning. Good idea, I think. Maybe I'll try that at home, too!

Part III - Blimey, It's the Blarney!

European Vacation - Part 1

Owing to the many reports which have been put in circulation by curious and interested individuals, I have been induced to write this history of our trip to Ireland, Wales and England, in order to put all inquirers after truth in possession of the facts, as they have transpired, or as they at present exist, so far as I have such facts in my possession.

In other words, Jacob and I went to Ireland, Wales and England. This is what happened.

(You'd have thought I could just say that, right?)

Jacob is in what's called Signet at Gainesville Middle School. It's the advanced class for kids who are a little above average (must have gotten that from his mom). Hannah is in Signet, too.

Last year they decided they were going to Europe and Jacob expressed an interest in going. So, being the dutiful parents we are, we started paying for it a little at a time.

Kelly and I decided that we weren't going to send Jacob to Europe by himself, so after a lot of back and forth and some paper/rocks/scissors, it was decided that I would go with him. Yea, I know. Darn!

We finally left on June 27th aboard British Airways bound for Heathrow Airport in London. The flight was a good 7-8 hours long, but we were able to watch movies and television and read some stories, so it wasn't that bad (except for the kid sitting next to me who couldn't sit still to save his life). Here's a picture of Jacob on the plane.

When we landed at Heathrow we had three hours to burn before our next flight to Shannon, Ireland. I thought we'd be sitting at the gate, twiddling our thumbs, for at least 2 hours. Little did I know.

Security at Heathrow is unbelievable. First they take you through customs. Then you walk about fifteen minutes and have to get your picture taken. Then you walk another fifteen minutes or so and have them look at your passport and compare it with the picture they just took. Then you have to take a bus ride to your new gate that is right next to the gate you're in, but to get there you have to ride the bus, literally, for another fifteen minutes. When we finally got to our gate, we have about ten minutes to spare.

When we finally touched down in Shannon, it was raining and nasty. I think the thing they should have told us, right then and there, was to get ready to see the same thing every day for the next week. It rained EVERY DAY (except the last one, of course, when we were sitting in the airport to come home). It wasn't a constant rain, nor was it a hard rain. But rain it did. But compared to the 100+ degrees they had at home while we were gone, I'll take it every time.

After a short bus ride, we stopped in a town called Bunratty. Yes, I know. Silly name. But in Irish it actually means "bottom" or "end" of the Ratty River. We stopped, ate lunch at the cafe (our first encounter with the enchanting Irish accent), and took pictures. To the right is one of Jacob in front of the castle.

Bunratty was an extremely engaging town. We saw our first street performers there, we actually used the Euros we'd bought in the United States, and like I said before, we listened to the Irish accent with which we'd shortly become enthralled. I had responsibility for Jacob and three other boys. One of them was so "enthralled" with it that he actually went up to a girl at the lunch counter and tried to talk her up. She just laughed at him, but it was a valiant try.

Killarney, which was the first town we actually stayed in, was our next stop. Along the way we saw several more castles, including the one on the left. I wish I'd written down the name of the town it was in, but I think it was Limerick. If not, I'm sure someone someday will correct me.

After about a full day of traveling (man, was I bushed!) we finally made it to Killarney.

It's a relatively small town, but it sure is beautiful. Too bad you couldn't see much of it from my window. All you could see was the next door neighbor's house, as evidenced by the picture to the right!

We stayed in a small bed and breakfast called Glena House. It's picture is below. Not the nicest place in the world, but it was comfortable and very close to the center of town.

Jacob and I walked up there several times in our three days in Killarney, once to get him some pizza (at about 10 o'clock at night), once to get him some Burger King (yes, they had one), and once to go shopping for a few things (and to hit BK one more time).

We both felt totally safe the whole time and enjoyed ourselves very, very much....despite the rain.

The only thing I had to contend with that first night was my roommate. I won't go into details with his name and all that, but suffice it to say that he's a loud sleeper. Nicest guy in the world. I roomed with him the whole time, and thought he was a great guy. May I just say, though, that I'm glad I took ear plugs? See if you can hear my roomie snoring in the Youtube video to the left.

Part II - The Ring of Kerry

Be Happy

For a long time I've want to give my kids a list of things I think they should know in this life, a set of rules, if you will. Something I might tell them if I were on my deathbed (I'm not). This is my first attempt at writing it all down. It's by no means comprehensive, but it does reflect the way I try to live my own life. I've been privileged to live on this beautiful earth now for 53+ years. These are some of the things I've learned. I'll also add to this list as I think of other "words of wisdom".

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When you see a kid running a lemonade stand, always stop and buy some. Then pay them more than they're asking.

Be a big tipper.

Laugh several times every single day.

Get at least 8 hours of sleep every night.

When you get to college, plan your week so that you can stop doing schoolwork on Friday at 5pm, then don't take it up again until Monday morning. The weekends should be your own. If you have to study on Saturday from time to time, it's all right, but never, ever study on Sunday.

Get some kind of exercise every day.

Be fiercely loyal.

Give faith more than a fighting chance.

When someone crosses you in private, talk to them about it in private. When someone crosses you in public, talk to them about it in private. Airing filthy laundry in public never helped anyone.

When you get that urge to change the world, and you will, make sure you change the person in the mirror first. The world will wait.

Never go to bed angry at anyone, especially your spouse. Hash it out before your head hits the pillow, even if it's really, really late.

The best advice my dad ever gave me...Immediate forgiveness.

Eat more vegetables and fruits than you do anything else.

The one thing you can always afford is a comfortable pair of shoes. Trust me, they're worth it.

When you receive something from someone else, no matter how small and insignificant it may seem, show your appreciation by sending them a nice, handwritten thank you card.

Try to catch people, especially your family, in the act of doing something good. But when you're doing something good, try to NOT get caught.

Relax. Whatever it is, it's not really that important.

Life's way too short to be doing something you don't like.

You can't force anyone to be your friend. Just be nice to everyone and the friends will come.

Always give people the benefit of the doubt.

Never wrestle with a pig. All you get is dirty and the pig likes it.

Give yourself a break. You're never that bad.

Neither is anyone else.

Let it go.

Stay away from alcohol. It can do nothing but damage your life.

Be good to your mother.

Be good to your mother (yes, I said it twice).

Be good to your mother-in-law.

There's ALWAYS someone who is better than you. Be quick to realize that and then work hard to be better than you are today.

Try. Then try harder. Then try harder still.

Understand that you live in the greatest country in the world, but also understand that your country has a lot of problems. Work to overcome them in your "neck of the woods."

Be involved.

Do one thing at a time, but do it right the first time.

If you fail, let it go and try again. Most of the world's greatest inventions were created way after the first or second or even tenth failure.

Some day, write down your history. One day someone will want to know who you were.

Growing older is nothing more than the passage of time. Don't be depressed about it. It will only make you feel older.

DO NOT SMOKE.

Oxygen is one of the best curatives God ever invented. Breathe deeply and enjoy your life.

Always tell the truth, no matter how bad it feels.

When you're in a restaurant, ask for water. Drink a lot of it wherever you are.

Be a good person.

If you get pulled over for speeding, don't be a smart aleck to the officer.

Family is one of the only things in this life that's REALLY important. Do everything you need to do to keep yours together and happy. Nothing can compensate for failure in the home.

Read.

If you say you're going to do something, do it. If you say you're going to be something, be it. If you say you're going to be somewhere, be there.

Love the earth. Learn to see its beauty. Treat it right.

Learn to see beauty in everything. It's all around you. You'll be amazed if you'll just open your eyes.

Love your spouse will all of your soul. Treat them with respect and love and like they're just as important as air, because they are.

Take time to be with your kids. Go to their games. Be their coach. Cheer for them. Go to their recitals. It makes a BIG difference.

Fidelity isn't old fashioned. It should be a way of life, a 'doctrine' you live with and reflect in your thoughts, actions, and emotions.

Pay your tithing.

Prayer, if done correctly, should be a physically demanding activity. Do it every day, and more than once.

Never, ever toot your own horn. It sounds a lot better when someone else does it and doesn't cause others to dislike you.

Little acts of anonymous kindness will go a long way to improving the world.

Watch cartoons with your kids, even if you find them lame.

Be outside.

Get to know yourself. I love you. You should also.

Love your life.