Ireland, and why it's called the Emerald Isle

One last comment I forgot about the retired math teacher who suggested I bike the Sea-to-Sea route from Plymouth north, a route he said was without major hills and 55 miles long. When I stopped for some groceries at lunch that day, a very kind man who bicycles this route stopped to talk with me. I was only 15 miles into my labor of country viewing. He was very excited that I would go on this route, and retrieved a guidebook just for the route. He thought as tough as I'd been already, I could make it to the halfway point by afternoon. After wrestling my bike downhill and up dale, I sat and looked at the guide. There were major changes in elevation, and the trail was 105 miles long, not 55. So off to Wales I went.
After crossing to Ireland, I found a campgraound with the help of a biker on the ferry. I set up tent, and listened to a group of 15 people having a barbeque in a large tent nearby. They were in their 40s and 50s, and after eating began to play a parlor game. I didn't catch the name of it, but it sounded like Mr Potato Head and dice and hangman rolled into one. As I sat in my tent in the drizzling rain, I could hear their dice roll and them call out the numbers and talk and laugh. One man said "it's not the bleedin' 3s, it's the 1s and the 2s." Then he said "we've got goggles, we've got nipples, lord knows what we've got!" Then, "I've got eyes, now nose, I'm looking for arms." And then, "he's got a willy on 'im, that means he's a ladybird!! He's got a willy, does that count for anything?" The dice rolled over and over, and I laughed in my tent as I listened.
In the morning, the biker gave me his map of Scotland, and a guide to hostels and camping in Ireland. He is from Bristol and so helpful and kind. So I went to the train station to check on departing trains, and found there is ONE departing train to the west, to anywhere, each day, and it had gone at 7:05. So I asked where the next stop was, and it is Waterford, the famous town of Waterford Crystal. How far? Oh, 50 miles (this time the map checked out-it's 50 miles). Not willing to sit here all day, I set off through cloudy sky to the west. After lunching under an overpass, I started on my way again and it began to rain. I shoudn't say began, it just rained....hard...pouring rain, as though all of heaven were dumping it's contents on me. I found a barn and pushed in, to cover my gear with rain covers and fix my raincoat. The farmer of said barn walked by, and when I said what I was doing, he smiled- "No worries!"
On to Waterford. It rained so hard that the rain hit my legs, ran down and I could feel it go into my shoes, around the tips of my toes, and run oout the end. I took a picture of myself, smiling, cause what should? what could I do? Push on!
Waterford is a beautiful city with a river running through the center of it. The business district sits along the water, and the area is called a quay, pronounced key. I asked a cab driver where the hostel was, found it closed, found another one nearby. The grocery was closed so I stopped to tell the cabbie about the hostel and ask where a safe place was to try a Guinness. The famous beer is brewed in this town and the concentrate shipped all over the world. It began to rain, so I sat in his cab and we talked of Ireland, work, the world. His name- Raymond!- and he and his wife of 29 years were headed to Cork to see Rod Stewart the following eveing. He drove me 6 blocks away to Doolans, a pub with live music. I listened for an hour, strong Irish music, with some American classics thrown in, and talked with the singer. He is Dermit Power, related to Tyrone Power, 62, a history writer and singer since youth. He loves Ireland, his lifelong home of Waterford, and expressed the sentiment I feel in life- "If I live to be a thousand, I should never be bored!"
Tuesday I headed west, and decided to go to Killarney, wesst of Cork. It is one of the famous tourist towns, and on the edge of the ring of Kerry, known for it's beautiful scenery. I set up camp and bicycled 34 miles through the Gap of Dunloe and the Black Valley. Rugged, steep, beautiful mountains and a narrow- 10 to 12' wide!- mountain raod. It took me 4 1/2 hours, and was worth every minute. Lakes, creeks, streams trickling over rocks- lovely!!
In the morning, I wanted to go west to Galway, and due to the poor train system in Ireland (they are working on it) I rode east all the way to Dublin, then west to Galway. As I made my way through crowded market streets to supper, a voice on a bike said "that's quite a load you 'ave there!" He was an El Salvadoran, who's lived here with his Irish wife for 5 years. Knew of Montana, having lived in Minnesota and New York, working as a chef.
Thursday morning, I boarded a bus to go west through Connemara country, very rugged and wild. I went the long way, 100 miles, through twisting, climbing turning roads. Most of these roads are barely double the width of a tiny European car, and this bus driver handled it superbly. The only fjord in Ireland lis in the hills here, allong with lakes and streams and breathstealing views. I stayed in Westport for the afternoon, talking with a book seller originally from Atlanta, spent 35 yrs in the Orient and 18 in western Ireland. He said some of his best sellers are....westerns from America, esp Zane Grey! I gave him some tips on how to buy them.
I traveled back to Dubllin for the night, found a grreat hostel, near a not-so-great one. When I asked the rate there, a large eastern European man rolled back in his chair and sneered "30 euros!" He creeped me out so I beat a hasty retreat. The guy at the nice hostel, a New Zealander, said that other guy creeped him out too.
Friday morn I wandered the streets of Dublin, and took the train south to Wicklow, where low and behold I found swimming ocean. Everywhere I'd looked all week the tide was out, leaving a nasty think muck. Here was honest ocean, cold, refreshing, real.
Back on the train to Dublin, then dinner before leaving on the ferry to Wales. I had supper first at a pub, the Oval Room, where Eammon Fannin sat with me and talked of his life in Ireland. He said Dublin is a rough town, I was good to keep my things close to me. Expensive, too, a bowl of Irish Stew (lamb!!) and hearty bread was 10.95 euros, and a Guinness was 4.25. Wow!!
So it's off across the sea to Wales, and adventures in another wild place.