After all that hiking through field after field, and meadow after meadow, we finally made it to Newtown Castle in Ballyvaughan.
But oh-so-many stairs. I can't imagine being a servant and having to run up and down those narrow circular stairs all day.
I think I may know why their life spans were much shorter than ours. They tuckered themselves out.
T climbing up and up and up.
I also can't imagine how they kept anything clean in the 16th century, when this castle was built. Lots of green moss or mould growing on these walls since it was so damp and cool.
Germophobes beware. There's not enough Clorox wipes to clean these walls.
I'm very glad to live in days of electricity and indoor plumbing.
On our hike back to the car, we were walking along a narrow country road looking for the entrance to the meadow with the electric fence. We came upon a farmhouse with a fresh coat of white paint. There were lovely flowers growing in the yard along a gorgeously old and shabby iron fence, and a sleeping mutt by the edge of the road.
A wonderfully peaceful scene.
The dog raised its head as we approached and it watched us through sleepy eyes. The Man loves dogs so he went over to it, talking softly as he approached.
The Man slowly held his hand out, giving the dog a chance to smell him before patting the dog. The dog leaned his head forward, as if to smell the Man's hand, and SNAP!
He bared his teeth, snapped his jaw, hair raised on its back, and growled as fierce as any dog I've ever seen.
The Man jumped back, preserving his hand from getting bitten.
The rest of us jumped back, thinking we were next on the dog's list of things to eat for lunch.
We wasted no time in high tailing it out of there, keeping a good stink eye on that deceiving mutt.
So much for the peaceful scene.