Saddle Sore

I awoke the next morning early and in surprisingly fine shape. It was my last day in Killarney and I wanted to make the most of it.
The night before, Haim (the Israeli) and I had talked about renting bikes and visiting Ross Island and the medieval Ross Castle, as well as Muckross House (giant Victorian manor), and the Muckross National Park. We invited a few others to join us, but the only taker was Pete, the Aussie.
We rented bikes from the Sugan for 10 euros for the day. None of us had a bike that fit: mine was way to small, and I spent the day bent over the handle bars (and feeling the full weight of my breasts), Pete's (who is a teeny little super guy) was waaaay to big, ect. And we all felt a little like the Von Trapps riding around the countryside singing (matching clothes made out of drapes would've been cool).
Together, we headed out for Ross Island where we toured the coastline, stopped for a snack, and chatted with a few strangers.
Ross Island looked a lot like Wenatchee National Forest, with huge green trees, evergreens, hilly, and so peaceful, but there was almost no undergrowth-- just dead leaves and dirt on the ground (think Sherwood Forest in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves).
We then headed to Muckross House and the national park. Now, it had been some time since I was on a bike, let alone for such distances and my ass was already starting to complain (and no, not flatulently). The whole undercarriage was sore and in pain. Everytime I dismounted, or worse, got back on my bike, shards of pain leaped from my groin up and down my legs and back. And, to make matters worse, my knees (completely blown out from years of athletic abuse) were cracking at every incline. But, I was traveling with two strapping young lads and there was no way in hell I was about to complain or turn back-- not just yet.
We stopped at Muckross abbey (which is completely skippable), and passed the manor for a hike up a large, steep waterfall. We lunched on a small cliff half way up an even larger, uneven stone stair (think Seven Years in Tibet).
Pete had been waiting all day to dig into his sausage, hashbrown, butter baguette (which had coagulated into a brown, greasy mush). After tossing that to the birds, and finishing off our candy bars, we climbed the rest of the way up the stair to what we thought would be the top of the waterfall. Not so. We had overshot the damn thing and there really wasn't anything but the beginnings of a creek to gawk at. Dommage.
After the waterfall, we made our way back to the bikes (waiting patiently for us at the bottom of the trail-- actually far away from the bottom of the waterfall trail, but that is a longer story) filling the time with a debate about whether Truman should've dropped the bombs, and the physical and psychological differences of sex on men and women (I think we came up with a some really effective solutions to much of the world's problems that afternoon).
I had really wanted to tour Muckross House, I had heard some amazing things about it, and I really like that sort of thing, but the boys had no desire and wanted to check out the Meeting of the Waters, which is where three large lakes...meet. I decided to join them for a few reasons, but the most important being that Muckross doesn't offer discounts to students over 18 (!), and admission was 5.50 euro!
But, alas, as we headed to the 'meeting' my knees began to grind and I had to stop and walk up a couple hills. Now, I am sure that had it not been a rented bike, had I spent some time on a bike recently, and perhaps, not climbed and then descended down the waterfall's Tibetan stair before making it that far, I would've been okay, but that was not the case and I was losing speed. Fast. The guys were great, very patient and showed no signs of frustration at my crybaby whimperings, and we made it back to town in about an hour instead of the 30 minutes it normally takes.
That night, we met up with several others from the Sugan and hit the clubs/pubs. More drunken hours spent in the street talking about nothing-- this time with three Dubliners instead of Germans, and some really white trash Aussie girl.

And with that, kiddies, takes us to my vacation from my vacation.








Overheard in Ireland:

old man with cane walking along path: Yes, (Angelina Jolie) damn sure is (hot).
overheard at Ross Castle

Israeli to Aussie: so, Harrison with pierced ear and The Fugitive beard walk into a bar with a Snickers bar in one hand, and Reese Witherspoon in the other...
overheard several times throughout the day



Too easy, but I walk around inapropriately spurting this quote at really dramatic moments:
"I have a brother? I have a brother!"
5 pts for full name of brother and actor that played him