I’m going to start this post by saying I did enough biometric and security screenings to have earned a spot working for the British government while laid over in London-Heathrow. I’m half surprised they didn’t ask for my astrological sign.
Doolin Part 1 (Part 2 will post after I’ve returned to the States):
I flew into Shannon – great little airport most of my friends know well – and met up with Declan; my taxi driver.
Heading out of Shannon and in toward Doolin was as beautiful as it was frightening.
Wee narrow roads and on-curb parking down main street areas make for little to no maneuverability. Coming around a corner to encounter a bus coming around the same corner toward you is a little nerve wracking. But Declan assured me everyone just closes their eyes and hopes for the best.
As it stands, I’m unscathed and got checked into the Aille River Hostel with no issues. I met my bunkmates: a Brazilian chick, a French chick who spent the evening at the pub with me after a short (3-hour) nap.
Having been flying and lazing in airports for the better part of a day , I decided a walk was in order after checking in and cleaning my hiking pack out (thank you TSA for uncapping my sunscreen and not securing the top). I’d seen a tower from the road and was given direction by one of the gents in the hostel.
If you know one thing about me by now, it’s that I’m as easy to distract as a cat is when a laser pen comes out.
Saw the big sign for Cliffs of Moher Walking Trail and decided, whilst in flip flops, to walk down it a bit.
Now, these were all taken on my cell, so there will likely be a Part 1.2 for Doolin that has some more walkway photos along with my 6-hour horseback trek through The Burren and beyond.