Emerald Isle, Day Three

Heading to Dingle. We had to leave {very} early for a long day of driving.

I have to tell you that nothing in Ireland is as close as it looks on a map. People had warned me about this but I really didn't take them seriously at all. I mean, really, how long does it take to travel 50 miles, about an hour?

Nope.

About three hours.

Because these roads are so narrow and not made for cars to pass one another. Most of the time I was huddled in the back seat, refusing to look out the side window because the car was 

so

close

to the edge of the road where rock walls lived. The rock walls WERE the edge of the road. If you saw a car approaching from the opposite direction you had to look for a turnout to pull into so the other car could pass. Or not.

There weren't always turnouts around.

So we headed off to Dingle and the Dingle peninsula and it took us about three hours to get there.

A gorgeous (but hair raising) ride that led us through quaint villages and small towns. I was hanging out the window snapping shots as we passed through.

And trying to navigate whichever guy was driving.

For some reason, I became the unofficial navigator because I knew how to use the GPS. But sometimes I would get cranky about it because the GPS would show one direction but then change its mind and have you completely turn around and go the opposite direction.

The Man doesn't like it when I tell him to turn around on a one lane road with stone walls bordering the roadway and no turnouts.

Let's just say, he found his Irish temper.

Stopped in at a sweater shop while we were in Dingle. As a knitter, I was a wee bit obsessed with the knitted goods. I showed some restraint and only bought one sweater - in this town.

I would have bought much more if we didn't have a luggage issue.

~~~~~~~~~~

A few days before we were leaving, I was reviewing with the Man what he should pack. I went upstairs and got a suitcase for him to use, brought it down, and let him know that I had put it in our room. He informed me that he was going to use his duffle bag.

A duffle bag?

We're going away for almost two weeks, overseas, and he thinks he can pack everything in a duffle bag PLUS have room for souvenirs?

I don't think so.

As soon as I mentioned the word souvenirs, he completely dug in his heels, "No. I'm not using a suitcase. How much are you planning on buying?"

I told him I wasn't traveling over to Ireland, with all the knitted goods they have over there, and NOT come home with sweaters, blankets, and linens and I stressed again that he should use the suitcase I put out for him. He put his stuff in the suitcase and fussed so much about it that I finally relented and told him he could use his duffle IF I could put some stuff in his backpack when we were ready to fly home. He agreed. So he packs all his stuff in his duffle and brings it out to show me. I thought he was bringing his large duffle. 

Nope.

He had packed all his clothing into a duffle the size of a tote bag.

I may have gone a bit ballistic because there was not a spare inch in that bag for ANYTHING. He must have known how upset I was because he assured me, again, that he would make sure to have lots of room in his backpack for me to use.

However, I knew I was going to need a lot of space so I left my suitcase half empty. 

Half empty. 

That meant cutting way back on the pieces of clothing and pairs of shoes I was planning on taking. Our luggage became a bit of sore point between us. But I'll leave that story for the end of the trip.

~~~~~~~~~~

As a side note, when we went on a Mediterranean cruise a few years ago, I had to BUY a piece of luggage to bring home all of our souvenirs. I didn't want to go through that again, for Pete's sake. The Man just about had a heart attack when I told him I had to go look at luggage in the ship's store.

Brown bread.

Delicious bread.

Teach me how to make this bread.

Dingle town.

So pretty. So colorful.

So very far away.