Today was our last day in Ireland. As such, I wanted something to do that was near the airport. The answer was Bunratty Castle and Folk Park. We’ve actually driven by this multiple times, during our travels up and down the coast and our long drives to swap rental cars — so it was nice to finally be able to stop.

Bunratty is a 15th century castle, fully restored to its formal glory. It’s situated inside a large historical park along the lines of Sturbridge Village or Strawbery Banke, but for 19th-century Ireland. They’ve moved and restored many different kinds of houses and other buildings here from different areas, including a residence and a “Main Street” with several different kinds of shops (which looked like 19th-century shops, but inside actually sold modern merchandise of a similar type). The centerpiece is the castle itself, where you can explore many of the rooms.

One thing I noticed, walking around, is that there were McNamaras everywhere. Apparently they were one of the main clans in this area, and actually built the castle (though it was soon taken over by the scheming O’Briens). My grandmother was a McNamara, so it added some fun for us to imagine that the castle could have been built by our distant ancestors. In addition to the castle itself, we saw a McNamara farmhouse and a MacNamara pub.

The park was a pleasant place to stroll around for a couple of hours. In addition to the buildings there were wooded walks and various animals — peacocks, chickens, ponies, pigs, Irish wolfhounds — which kept the girls busy for a while. But the main event was in the evening, when we’d signed up for the medieval banquet, held in the castle itself after hours. We enjoyed a four-course meal with mead and wine, and entertainment. The entertainers (who were also our waiters) were period actors and wonderful singers. (Apparently the banquet was set during the O’Brien era, because the reenactors made reference to their livestock being stolen by those dastardly McNamaras.). It was a nice way to cap off our travels.

We stayed overnight in nearby Ennis, yet another charming little town with a vibrant town center — in this case, one that seemed to be mostly locals. We didn’t have a chance to do much there, but it provided a nice cafe for us to grab some breakfast before heading for the airport.

Our flight home the next day was pretty uneventful, except for my suitcase being the VERY LAST ONE to emerge at baggage claim. This caused us to miss the bus we’d hoped to catch by 5 minutes, and necessitated standing in the hot sun in 90+ degree weather waiting for the next one, which was late. Before that we’d been making great time — the Ireland airports have US Customs set up within them somehow, so you can go through before your flight and then not have any delay when arriving back in the US. But we eventually made it back to NH, and managed to drive home without accidentally straying onto the left side of the road.

There seem to be two schools of thought on how to drive the Ring of Kerry, a famous scenic driving loop around the Iveraugh Peninsula. The most popular advice is to drive the ring clockwise, to avoid getting stuck behind the large tour buses that ply the route daily. The other point of view is to drive counter-clockwise, to avoid having to cross paths with the large tour buses.

Having driven here for a couple of weeks, and after going through vehicular disasters #1 and #2, Bob and I would put ourselves firmly in the second camp. The hardest part of driving here isn’t being on the wrong side, or shifting a manual transmission with your left hand, or dealing with the constant roundabouts. Those things, you get used to. The hardest part is unequivocally the narrowness of the roads combined with the disorientation of being seated on the wrong side of the car. We are constantly cringing and holding our breath when we come across oncoming vehicles of any kind, and large buses and trucks are a particular nightmare.

Following a bus, on the other hand, is great. We are in no rush, so we don’t mind the slower pace — and at least we’re not the ones causing the large backup by going slower than the rest of the traffic. Better yet, the bus serves as a kind of defensive line — other oncoming traffic moves well out of the way, and we figure if the cars can fit past the bus, then it should be no problem for us. Getting stuck behind a bus or a truck is our idea of a great stroke of luck.

Unfortunately, we already did the Killarney to Kenmare section of the Ring, so we were stuck with a clockwise strategy. Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be too many buses in evidence — I think we got out early enough that the buses leaving from Killarney hadn’t made their way all the way back around to us. Our big morning challenge was figuring out how to pack up all our damp clothing from the day before. The air must have been quite humid, because it didn’t seem that anything had dried at all overnight — my socks from the previous day were still completely soaking. We made good use of the hotel’s hair dryers to ensure that we at least had dry shoes to wear, but also ended up packing up bags of damp clothing to deal with later. (It was unlucky that this was the one time that we only had a one-night stay so had to pack everything up the morning after arrival.)

The drive was beautiful — winding along the coastline with expansive views of the sea and the mountains. We stopped at a few different viewpoints just to marvel at the scenery. Our first real stop was Derrynane Beach, which was also beautiful — but by this point it had started to drizzle again. Given that we were rapidly running out of dry clothing, we elected to cut our visit short rather than risk getting drenched.

Our innkeeper host in Kenmare had told us to make sure to drive the Skellig Ring, even though it added a bit of time to the trip. This is an optional add-on to the Ring of Kerry that takes you out a bit further on the southern peninsula. (If you have good weather and plan ahead you can even take a boat ride out to Skellig Michael, a dramatic and historic island that was used for filming multiple Star Wars movies. Since the weather was uncertain and the tour takes 4-6 hours, we decided to skip it.).

The main destination on the Skellig Ring is the Kerry Cliffs, which are actually higher than the Cliffs of Moher (and far less visited). I had actually thought about cutting the Skellig Ring from our itinerary, given our driving difficulties, but I was so glad that I didn’t. The cliffs were amazing and the site’s owners had set up a series of viewing areas, each one more breathtaking than the last. We spent a fair amount of time wandering around here, taking dozens of photos or each new vista.

We made one more stop before arriving in Dingle Town — Inch Beach. This was a huge, wide beach which must mostly disappear at high tide, given that almost all the sand was hard-packed and damp. There was a large area where cars were parking right on the beach itself, but our innkeeper had warned us against this. “People get excited about driving on the beach, then they get stuck in the sand,” he’d said darkly. The last thing we needed was to get stuck in the sand, so we didn’t even consider driving onto the beach. Fortunately we found a spot in the nice paved parking lot. We’re especially missing Zoe when we visit all these beaches, as she would have liked nothing better than to go for a swim in the chilly waters.

We arrived at our inn in good time and saw that it was set on a hillside across the street from the water, with expansive sea views. (Throughout the Dingle Peninsula, the land rises sharply from the sea up to the mountainous interior, so you have gorgeous views almost anywhere you go.). We then spent a little time exploring Dingle Town, which, like everywhere we’ve been, was quaint, bustling, and immaculately well kept up. We ate an outdoor dinner near the dock, sampling some of the local beer and whisky. (Like Iceland, people make the most of outdoor spaces here, despite the chill.)

We’d had an early dinner (having eaten a large breakfast at our B&B and basically skipped lunch), so afterwards Bob, Lanie and I set out for a walk along the water. It was extra beautiful in the evening light, and we were able to wander along the cliffs and beaches until we reached the ruin of an old watchtower. The lovely scenery triumphed over our sore feet.

We heard that from a LOT of people today.

We awoke to gray skies and a steady drizzle, the kind that you know isn’t just a passing shower. Apparently Killarney has had six weeks of sunshine — which abruptly came to an end the day of our arrival. We would need to adjust our plans a bit.

But first, we had to say a sad goodbye to Zoe. The rest of us are here for five more days but she flew back today to get back to work. We had to drive her into town to catch a 7:30am bus. We should have had plenty of time, as the bus stop was only five minutes away, but Google Maps made the unaccountable decision to send us on a different, 15-minute route, so we pulled in with only two minutes to spare. Luckily the rest of Zoe’s airport travel (bus to Limerick, short walk to a different bus station, then another bus to Shannon) went smoothly and she made it home without incident.

As for her sisters, they showed no great inclination to get out of bed. Given the weather, we didn’t really rush them. (Things are very luxurious at this Airbnb — we have three bedrooms and three bathrooms! The girls definitely enjoyed having their own private space for a bit.) After a bit of research, we decided to book a two-hour “jaunting car” ride — a horse-drawn carriage that would allow us to see some of the local sights in comfort — and more importantly, under a rain cover.

This was a very popular excursion with the girls, who have stopped to bond with every horse they’ve passed. Bob and I enjoyed chatting with the driver, an older man who’s lived in Killarney all his life. He was an entertaining character, and clearly attached to his horse, Ruby. He told us that every night, Ruby (and apparently all 60 horses owned by the Killarney Jaunting Car company) gets a bottle of Guinness mixed in with her feed. “She loves it! Can’t get enough!” When Ruby wasn’t going as fast as he liked, he would threaten her with the loss of Guinness privileges, which was apparently the worst threat he could muster. He himself, he told us, visits Murphy’s Bar each evening for four pints of Guinness. “Never three, never five — always four. Never miss a night.” He seemed a pretty spry guy, so apparently this system is working out for him. (He assured us that neither he nor the horse ever enjoys their Guinness while on duty.)

After a short journey in the city center (where cars have to yield to horses), we headed into the carriage roads of Killarney National Park. It was very pleasant rolling through the woods and along the lake, warm under blankets and dry from the rain. Eventually we reached Muckross House, a beautiful 19th century mansion set on the shores of one of the park’s three lakes. We made a half hour stop here to explore the gardens and grounds, and in a stroke of rare luck, the rain stopped just as we arrived (and started up again once we got back in the cart).

On the way back, our driver treated us to another stop at Muckross Abbey, the ruins of a 15th century Franciscan friary. It was lovely and fascinating. A huge, ancient yew tree — presumably as old as the friary itself — rises up straight in the center of the cloister. Around the outside is a cemetery with a mixture of old and semi-modern graves. It was an excellent place to wander for a bit — and again, the rain abated just as we arrived.

In the afternoon the rain had retreated to the degree that we felt brave enough to take on a hike that I’d really been looking forward to — the Gap of Dunloe, a narrow road leading through a mountain pass. It’s a road rather than a trail, but most vehicles are restricted from entry, so it’s mostly pedestrians, jaunting cars, and the occasional bike. The whole thing is over 7 miles long (and there’s not really a way to get back without retracing your steps or booking a combo boat/bus trip), so we contented ourselves with walking just the first stretch.

It was well worth the trip. The scenery was breathtaking and there were lots of sheep, cows, and off-duty horses for the girls to bond with along the way. It was hard to turn around — the path forward looked so inviting and it kept tempting us to see what was beyond the next corner. But we had a deadline for our next activity — an escape room we’d booked for 6pm. (The two Killarney escape rooms were almost totally booked for the whole day, presumably because of the rain, so we were lucky to get a spot at all.)

We were able to succeed at Vampires Among Us in good time, despite missing one of our family members. Probably if Zoe was around, we wouldn’t have had to ask for that hint.

We had one last stop to squeeze in before dinner — a quick stop to explore Ross Castle, which sits right outside of town. It’s a 15th century tower house which, like everything else here, is in an absolutely gorgeous setting on the shores of Lough Leane, one of the Killarney’s three lakes. Ross Castle, Muckross House, and Killarney National Park are all stops along the Ring of Kerry, the rest of which we’ll be driving later in the week.

Like our driver, we were also planning to head to Murphy’s that night — it had been recommended by our Airbnb host, Owen. We were hoping for some live music but it turned out to not start until 9:30 pm, which was a bit later than we had the energy for. We still enjoyed some pints and an excellent dinner before heading back to Owen’s. (We were hoping to see our driver and confirm whether he really did have four pints of Guinness, but our timing must have been off.)

Today we were up and at ‘em earlier than usual, as we had a boat to catch. After a 40-minute walk into the seaport area of Galway, we boarded the Aran Island Ferry to travel to Inis Mór, the largest of the Aran Islands off the coast. These are known for their ancient sites and more traditional Irish way of life. Gaelic is still the primary language here, and we overheard plenty of snippets of it when the locals were talking amongst themselves.

Once on the ferry, I had some moments of doubt about the wisdom of this plan. The ferry company’s website is rather cagey about how long the trip takes, and we discovered it was going to be 90 minutes out and up to three hours on the way back (because of a side trip to the Cliffs of Moher). Once we got out of the harbor, the ride got pretty choppy, and between the wind and the rain it was freezing cold. Despite this we were sitting outside on the top of the boat, because we felt that would be the best way to avoid seasickness. (This plan mostly succeeded, though Nadia was a little unhappy. Miraculously, I managed to avoid nausea despite normally being very susceptible. I think we made the right choice because when I went downstairs to the bathroom, the pitching of the boat seemed much worse from within the stuffy cabin, and I saw multiple people being sick. Those of us up on deck all managed to hold on to our breakfasts.)

So anyway, there we were, cold and damp and a little queasy, wondering what on earth we’d let ourselves in for. As we approached the island, we came into a cloud and it suddenly began to downpour. All those on deck raced for cover, but we didn’t really make it. Fortunately the downpour was short-lived, and as we docked on the island the rain abated and we even saw a little sun.

We picked up our rental bikes and set off down the road and immediately our troubles were forgotten. It was so lovely biking down the narrow road, blue sky now above us, old stone walls and rolling hills on all sides and the blue-green ocean sparkling below. There’s not a lot of car traffic on the roads here (though quite a lot of bikes and the occasional horse and buggy), so biking is the perfect way to get around. A stop for some hot drinks (and observing the nearby seal colony) completed the restoration of spirits.

Our eventual destination was Dún Aonghasa, an ancient fort (going back to 1100 BC) built in an absolutely stunning setting at the edge of the island’s 330 foot cliffs. We parked our bikes and walked the last section uphill, then couldn’t stop taking pictures of the beauty all around. I traveled here once before, when I studied abroad in 1993. My friend Julie and I took a weekend trip to Galway and visited this island, and I have a photo of myself standing at the edge of the tall cliff, which we attempted to replicate. I seem to remember (possibly inaccurately) that last time I was here it was raining and we were the only ones there. This time we were abundantly grateful for clear skies and have learned to soak up the sun whenever we can get it.

After some lunch and a little shopping — there is a little cluster of buildings near the entrance to the fort with food stands and an Aran sweater outlet, where Lanie bought herself one of the lovely sweaters she’d been eyeing — we got back on the bikes. A short way back we’d passed a beautiful beach, and we’d promised Zoe a stop on the way back. (She carries her bathing suit with her everywhere, and has yet to miss an opportunity to swim, regardless of the weather.) The water was an amazing shade of brilliant aquamarine that made us think we were in the Caribbean, but the water temperature most definitely did not. Nevertheless Zoe plunged in, and probably would have stayed much longer if we didn’t have to pull her out for fear of missing the boat back.

We were not really looking forward to the long boat ride back, but from the start, it somehow had a more pleasant feel (at least to me). It was probably something to do with the sunshine and somewhat warmer temperatures, but there also seemed to be more to look at. The trip back had us passing by the other two Aran Islands, which were lovely to view from the water. Better yet, as we were passing the smallest island, the boat captain announced that it was the setting for Craggy Island in the opening credits of the old Irish TV show “Father Ted”. I was introduced to Father Ted — a hilarious comedy about rogue priests exiled to a remote island — many years ago by my Aunt Kath, and Bob and I have long been big fans. Seeing Craggy Island in person was an unexpected treat.

A little while later we were starting to approach the other side, so Zoe and I got up to station ourselves at the starboard rail in preparation for the Cliffs of Moher siting. It took a while to get there but we enjoyed standing up in the fresh air and watching the rolling seas. Eventually Bob and Lanie joined us. (Nadia, most prone to motion sickness among us, was sticking with her seat.) We hadn’t really thought a great deal about this portion of the trip — it was just kind of a nice extra thrown in on the Aran Islands journey — but it was truly amazing. The boat traveled the whole length of the cliffs, fairly close to land, and the views were spectacular. (So spectacular, in fact, that we decided not to bother visiting from the land side, which we had previously planned to do the following day.). We saw the place where the cave scene was filmed in Harry Potter 6, and the site of the “Cliffs of Insanity” from The Princess Bride. Zoe said this might have been her favorite part of the entire trip. The remaining sail back to Galway was uneventful and we even arrived half an hour earlier than scheduled.

We’ve been having some trouble getting into restaurants here — everywhere we’ve been, there have been crowds of people and we’ve often gotten turned away. So, especially with this being a Friday night, we’ve learned our lesson and made a reservation (or as they call them here a “booking”), at a Persian restaurant. (We didn’t learn our lesson all that well, because we made the reservation rather late in the day and consequently had very few choices.) The restaurant was excellent, however, and we were glad we’d made the booking when we saw all the fancily-dressed young people out celebrating the Galway Races. Too tired for the pubs tonight, we made the long trek home after dinner. (It was not actually that early, but it felt like it was — it stays light here until 10pm or so.)

This morning we set off from Westport into the wilds of Connemara, a region of western Ireland strewn liberally with mountains, lakes, waterfalls, and dramatic coastline. Our ultimate destination is Galway, but we’re taking the scenic route to get there. Prior to getting in the car, we had to fortify ourselves with a visit to the town’s tea house, which the girls had been eyeing the day before. It proved to be an excellent breakfast spot and a wonderful bakery (so that some members of the party purchased breakfast desserts for themselves).

Our first stop was Kylemore Abbey, a beautifully maintained manor house sitting on the edge of a lake in the most stunning setting imaginable. In addition to the house itself, there’s a 6-acre walled Victorian garden and lovely grounds surrounding it. We started our visit at the paddock, to meet the resident Connemara ponies during feeding time. (This may have been Nadia’s favorite part of the day.) Interestingly, the gardens were about 1.5 kilometers from the house, but it was a very pleasant walk through woodlands and along the lake. The ponies did not disappoint, and the gardens were amazing — a mixture of very manicured English garden, woodland walks featuring more natural landscapes like ferns, and kitchen gardens that grow produce for the complex.

The house itself was almost a mini-museum, covering the history of the place from its construction through to the present day. It began its life as an aristocratic home, but eventually transitioned to being a Benedictine abbey. Nuns still live here today. It also served as a school until remarkably recently — the doors closed in 2010. We were all trying to imagine what it would be like getting to live here. On our way out we had some snacks at the excellent cafeteria. (We’ve found that all the tourist attractions here actually seem to have good quality restaurants, unlike what you’d find at home.)

Our next stop was only 15 minute away — a welcome respite for Nadia, who has been getting motion sickness amidst all the winding narrow lanes. Connemara National Park isn’t on the scale that you’d see for a US national park — there’s just one parking lot and a few trails — but it gets no complaints from us. We hiked a 6.5 km loop up a mountain that we’d been able to see towering above the Abbey (they all it “Diamond Hill” here but having climbed it, I definitely feel that it is a mountain). The hike was a challenging one — the last couple kilometers, in particular, were extremely vertical — but the views throughout were amazing. There’s not a lot of forest here, so we were able to see the spectacular scenery throughout our ascent. When we eventually reached the top (after several false summits), we had 360 degree views around the landscape, from the rolling hills in one direction to the rugged coastline in the other. Those of us who are regular hikers immediately moved it into our top 5 lists.

It only remained for us to make our way down to Galway. I’d read about taking the “Sky Road” for its beautiful scenery, so we set off in that direction — which likely proved to be a mistake. The scenery was indeed striking, but the narrow two-way road required us to stressfully squeak by other cars with centimeters to spare, and occasionally back up down the lane in order to find a slightly wider area. Bob got stuck driving this leg and was in no mood to appreciate the scenery; nor was Nadia, with her motion sickness. Fortunately we soon emerged back on the main road.

We made one last stop at the seaside village of An Spidéal for dinner, close to Galway. I’d read about this as a worthwhile spot to visit, but we didn’t find a whole lot there. Zoe would have happily gone for another swim at the beach, but with the general mood we decided to stick with just dinner.

It was a good thing too, as our arrival in Galway was a bit stressful. We’re staying at a lovely apartment right on Galway Bay in the little town of Salthill. We had some struggles with finding the parking area (counterpoint: when we eventually did find it, it proved to be both very convenient and free), with locating the building (for some reason we were only provided with the street name, not a number — fortunately the photo of the outside saved us), and with getting into the apartment (with no instructions provided on where the key would be). But eventually we overcame these hurdles and settled in to appreciate our expansive ocean views.

Today it was time to say farewell to Sligo and start heading back south. Our next stop is Westport, an extremely charming city near the coast in County Mayo. We got out of our hotel at the semi-reasonable time of 9:45, and were pleased to discover that our luggage fitted marginally better into our marginally larger rental car. Alas, the weather was still cool and rainy.

Our Airbnb in Westport is in the heart of the city, amidst picture book Irish pubs, shops, and restaurants. Also amidst much traffic. Bob did a valiant job steering us through the narrow one-way streets until we found the parking lot near our apartment and snagged the last possible space. (People park creatively here. There were cars in every possible place, including up on the stones surrounding a central statue. In order to get into our space, Bob had to ease past another car parked on the curb just in front of it.)

We set out to explore the town a bit, enjoying the abundant petunia displays and the quaint shops. Plan A for today was to rent bikes and set out along the Great Western Greenway, a renowned bike path running along the coast and part of Ireland’s Wild Atlantic Way. Plan B was to climb nearby Croagh Patrick. Plan C was to rent kayaks on the bay. Unfortunately, the cold and rain made all of these somewhat unappealing. We went with Plan D, which was visiting nearby Westport House. This is a historic estate originally owned by the Grace O’Malley, the Pirate Queen of Connacht. It was only a 1 km walk away, mostly through a park that surrounds it. Unfortunately upon arrival we found that the house is closed for renovations, so Plan D was also thwarted. But we were still able to take a long walk around the estate, through lovely woodlands and along the lake and rivers, so it was still a worthwhile trip.

Plan E (which would have been Plan A for Nadia all along) never fails us — we found a local escape room. The rain finally relented so we were able to stay dry during the half hour walk. (Once our car is safely parked, especially in a place like busy downtown Westport, we are very reluctant to move it again.). The room was very fun and the proprietor Karolina was so kind and welcoming (like many people we’ve met here). We managed to escape in 31 minutes, thus earning our family a spot on the 2026 leaderboard. And astonishingly, since we escaped in roughly half the time, Karolina only charged us half price! Never had that happen before.

For dinner Nadia had her eye on a Thai place in town, and it did not disappoint. Despite Ireland’s not exactly having a reputation as a food mecca, we’ve had excellent meals here all along — both more traditional (fish and chips, Irish beef, etc.) and non (Korean and Thai). The restaurants have been packed, too — for this one, we had to leave our names at 6:30 and return at 7:30.

One thing we learned when we arrived in Ireland was that the Gaelic football finals were being held on that Sunday, Mayo vs. Kerry. And Mayo emerged victorious, for the first time in 75 years. As we drove to Westport (in the heart of Mayo), there were green and red flags and signs everywhere, and about 50% of the populace were wearing green and red jerseys. Even though it was now Monday, the following day, the celebrations weren’t over. As we had dinner and walked around the town, fans were streaming in. We’d planned to go to a pub for some Irish music, but it took us a while to find one that had any space at all. Eventually we were able to squeeze in and have some pints at a place that was playing the Saw Doctors on the stereo, which made Bob very happy.

The fans outside set up an impromptu parade ,with cars driving by bearing Mayo flags and hanging out the windows to cheer. By the time we left the pub, the streets were filled with revelers, drinking and singing. It was quite a scene. Our apartment is set a bit removed from the main street (in an interesting warren of apartments called The Kiln), so luckily it wasn’t too noisy — but Bob and I did hear occasional snatches of chants and songs well into the night. It was reminiscent of the time when we coincidentally ended up in Paris on the night that France won the World Cup.

The plan for today was to have a nice relaxing day wandering around Sligo, to recover from our long travel day. The reality was that, due to the previously mentioned rental car snafu, Bob and I had to drive back to Shannon airport, two and a half hours away, to return one rental car and pick up another. It had to be back before 10, so this also involved a 6:45 am wake-up time — also not what we would usually prefer on our first day after a night of missed sleep.

Fortunately, due to being somewhat more rested and not stacked in the car like sardines with three miserable children and piles of luggage, the drive didn’t seem nearly as long and torturous today. It was exciting driving on the N17, the road made famous (to us) by a well-loved song by Irish band the Saw Doctors. We each drove one way, and exchanged the car without difficulty. Our new car is marginally larger so we have hopes that we won’t have to ride with our luggage on our laps. Both cars we’ve rented here have had the feature of beeping madly anytime you exceed the speed limit, so there’s little chance of us getting a speeding ticket.

By the time we got back around 1:15, the girls had only slightly roused themselves. Zoe and Lanie had made it out for breakfast and a short walk, and Nadia hadn’t even left our lodge. The weather was not entirely inviting — the blue skies of the previous day had given way to a steady drizzle. Nevertheless, we bravely got back in the car and set out for Knocknarea, a mountain a short distance away that was sacred to the people who lived here in 4000BC. The top is a huge monument of stones covering a tomb, supposedly of the legendary Queen Maeve.

The weather did not improve. By the time we’d climbed a bit of the mountain, we’d ascended into the clouds and the light drizzle had changed to a steady rain. The glorious ocean views that had been promised were nothing but gray mist. As a consolation, the trail was lined throughout with many cows and sheep, which proved to be considerably more popular with the girls than the cairn that we eventually reached.

After Knocknarea, we decided to forego additional outings that promised vistas, and instead headed to a nearby beach. Sligo is surrounded with beaches, famous for their large waves and popular with surfers. Strandhill Beach, recommended by the host at our lodge, was not short on drama. Sadly for Zoe, there was no swimming, but we could see line after line of breakers rolling in off the Atlantic and crashing on the shore. We took a walk along the water then went for snacks and gelato at the cute seaside restaurant that our host also recommended. This did much to lift dampened spirits.

Dinner was a pleasant stroll into town. Sligo is so beautiful and inviting. We walk in along the river, huge bright clumps of petunias hanging from every lamppost and charming footbridges stretching across. The downtown is vibrant and quaint, with any number of Irish pubs featuring live music and high-quality restaurants. Most of us were ready for bed after dinner, but Zoe and Lanie were intrepid enough to head out again for an evening pint.