Sun, 29 Jun 2003

author Tim	location Ballymoney, Northern Ireland
posted 19:43 BST	section Europe2002/Europe/Ireland/Ireland 1 ( all photos )

Grianan of Aileach ( 5 photos )
Getting on the road rather late due to our sleep-in, we dragged our weary bodies towards the Grianan of Aileach, an impressive stone fort built on top of a hill near the Northern Irish border at Burt.
We wound our way up a very steep hill, holding up traffic as we pushed Rosie up in first gear, greatful that the clutch is now working just fine.
The place itself was rather similar to Staigue Fort we saw the other day on the Ring of Kerry. Walls four metres thick, twenty three metres in diameter, it was built around two thousand years ago and is currently undergoing re-construction. Despite the warnings that you were only allowed to look at it, people were all inside it and all up the walls, so we followed suit accordingly, taking in great views all around.
From there, we drove on into Northern Ireland, which, since it is a separate country, is in a separate section!

author Tim	location Downings, Donegal, Ireland
posted 09:18 BST	section Europe2002/Europe/Ireland/Ireland 1 ( all photos )

Rest after the Climb ( 5 photos )
This morning, since it is Sunday, we are enjoying a well-deserved sleep in, not wanting to get up and go just yet as our aching muscles and joints attempt to get back into working order.

I keep forgetting to mention that Ireland is currently hosting the Special Olympics. This is like the olympics, only for people who are special, such as those with Down Syndrome. This is the first time it has been held outside of America.
The hospitality they are being extended is very warm, every town has a sign up saying who they are hosting, and the other day we think Rosie was in a road-cycling event, as we drove past several cyclists pushing onwards towards a little town. It was great fun.

author Tim	location Downings, Donegal, Ireland
posted 09:18 BST 29/06/2003	section Europe2002/Europe/Ireland/Ireland 1 ( all photos )

Donegal - Mountain Climbing ( 28 photos )
On Saturday, we set an alarm to wake up earlier than other days, as we had been getting on the road later and later each day.
First stop was Rossnowlagh Beach, not far from our overnight accommodation, where after a quick wander across the very flat sand, we noticed that everyone else had their cars down there. Not poeple to miss an opportunity, we jumped in Rosie and hoped we didn't get bogged as we drove her up and down the beach, true Aussie-on-the-other-side-of-the-world style.
We found cheap fuel on the way through the city of Donegal (which, despite being the county town, only has 3000 people living there), and thought that perhaps another recommended Island was in order, heading out to Burtonport for the ferry to Arranmore. We sat and had a light lunch while deciding whether to get the ferry or not - it was quite expensive, and we would have had to wait around for a while. I noticed a local teenager who was feeding coins into a pool table, practising against himself, who might like an opponent for a change. A round of good luck saw me just winning, although I have to admit that their rules they play here are quite lenient compared to some.
In the end, we decided that the Island could wait until next time, and instead took on a far more challenging afternoon.
This started with a drive to Dunlewy, behind probably the slowest driver in all of the country (Rosie's not so good at overtaking), where we found the lake-side Information Centre. We had headed here for information about climbing the imposing 752m (2440 feet) Mount Errigal, the highest in Donegal. This we began by driving around to "base camp" parking lot, where there were so many other cars we had trouble parking.
In the end, we scrambled up over bog, stones, and very narrow ledges to reach the summit in an hour and a half, where we rested for a little while while trying not to be blown off the top down the almost shere sides. It apparently has one of the smallest caps (about 2m square) in Ireland, meaning that we had to keep our wits about us at all times. Getting the last hundered feet or so was across a very narrow ledge where we felt like tight-rope walkers, focusing on our path while to either side of our vision the world scrolled by rapidly, so far down.
Going down was easier than we expected, my almost-useless knees somehow held out, and we both only had a few trips, and those at the safe parts. We collapsed into Rosie, warn out and sore, but very glad that we had made it, not exactly being experienced mountaineers.
We wanted to head quick-smart to a caravan park, and found ourselves one up on the shores of Sheephaven Bay. Driving there was another challenge, on possibly the worst roads anywhere, ever (Ireland's roads are of a pretty poor standard across the board, in some places there are signs showing that EU cash has been used to replace them, and those sections are very good. However, the vast majority of the tarmac is lumpy, bumpy, potholed, and looks like people come along every few months, dig massive holes, and fill them in haphazardly).
We took a turn towards a town which we thought to be kind of where we wanted to go (our map for Ireland is not very detailed), which was a single track road where the two cars in front decided they had gone the wrong way and wanted to turn around. However, we pushed on and somehow, this magic road took about an hour off our journey, dumping us much closer to our goal than we had imagined! From there, we pushed on towards the town of Downings, where we checked into the caravan park, before wandering to the nearest pub that served food and devouring whatever came, too tired to even think about cooking.

author Tim	location Downings, Donegal, Ireland
posted 09:18 BST 29/06/2003	section Europe2002/Europe/Ireland/Ireland 1 ( all photos )

Mayo, Sligo - Seaweed Baths! ( 13 photos )
We eventually found where to pay for Thursday night's accommodation - it was the local post office/service station/shop/caravan park and probably everything else in the town, run by one little old guy who I think had major problems dealing with the fact that when I walked in there was someone else in there as well. Two customers! He got a little flustered, but worked it out in the end.
Leaving that one horse town on Friday morning, we drove out towards Achill Island, described as "full of villages deserted in the middle of the 19th century and others deserted outside of summer every year", we headed off in search of the former.
Stumbling we know not how across a tiny "Internet cafe" inside what seemed to be an Adult Learning Centre, I added a quick update so people knew we were still alive.
We did find Slievemore Deserted Village, some of which was the summer residence of cattle grazers and the rest of which the inhabitants have been traced as moving elsewhere. But nobody ever asked them why. It was a great spot, nestled in the rolling hills, now only the sheep and the occasional tourist wandered around the ruins.
About here we decided that those who had deserted Achill Island probably had the right idea - there was very little going for it, and the weather was terrible. So, when in Achill, do as the 19th century inhabitants do and desert the place.
The drive out there just to discover that we shouldn't have bothered had taken up a big chunk of our day in the wrong direction, so we drove and drove up through county Sligo, where the weather almost immediately turned much better. We didn't like Mayo very much. We found the picturesque Lough Talt (think lake) near Glencask for a rest and driver change, before heading eastward through the interestingly named Tubercurry, then north-east towards the town of Sligo.
Turning off just before Sligo, we went to Strandhill, where my Irish friend Gail had mentioned that there was something called a seaweed baths there. We were not sure what to expect, but poked our heads in the door anyway. We chickened out and had a look at their rocky beach and strange monument, before deciding that if Gail said it was good, it must be.
In this place, Liz and I shared a room where you alternate between a steam room and a bath full of none-other than seaweed! It was a very relaxing hour, even if our skin was all slimey from the seaweed gel, we felt most refreshed after it.
Looking for a caravan park not too far away, we drove into county Donegal and onwards to Ballyshannon, where we checked into a nice little caravan park by the lake. We set up, then wandered into town, around the steep streets then settled into a lively little pub for the night.

author Tim	location Belcarra, Castlebar, Mayo, Ireland
posted 21:52 BST	section Europe2002/Europe/Ireland/Ireland 1 ( all photos )

Galway, Connemara ( 15 photos )
The horrible weather today has meant that we did little other than drive around the place, winding up the coast.
Driving in the direction of Galway, we went through the strange landscape of The Burren. Formed by tectonic activity pushing the sea-bed up to form ragged landscapes, there were lots and lots of rocks around the place, used as dry-stone fences, and also used in the 5000 year-old Poulnabrone Dolmen.
This apparently is one of the most famous images of Ireland, although we are yet to see any. You could describe it as just a bunch of rocks, although the place has been carefully excavated after the covering earth gradually eroded. It's a sad sign of the times that there needs to be a sign saying "do not climb on this." I guess the alternative is Stonehenge-like fencing off. Not sure which is worse.
After a quick cafe-stop in Ballyvaughan, we drove into Galway for fuel and an evil McDonalds snack. Not much more looking around as we had some miles to cover and plenty to see, plus the weather was urging us back into the dry haven that is Rosie.
Most of the rest of the day was driving through Connemara - a Gaelic-speaking district of almost total isolation, hugely separated tiny villages, and heavy fog.
The most interesting stop of the day was tucked away in the middle of nowhere - Roundstone Music, Craft and Fashion. This little place is the world centre for Irish musical instruments, having supplied such famous events as Riverdance, and you could watch their specialty bodhrans being made, read all about it and of course buy one made to order. Also on display were flutes, whistles, and plenty of instruments that we don't really need but which would be fun nonetheless.
From there, we drove through the misty mountain passes towards a less-interesting nowhere town Belcarra, where we are staying at the nice and cheap (well, we think - there was noone here to actually pay so we just drove in and set up) Carra Caravan and Camping Park. The weather has slowly calmed down, but it is still a night in watching DVDs that we have planned.

author Tim	location Doolin, Claire, Ireland
posted 10:17 BST	section Europe2002/Europe/Ireland/Ireland 1 ( all photos )

Kerry and Claire ( 15 photos )
Today we awake to do it all again, however there aren't so many things we want to see and plenty of distance to cover as we drive further up the West coast, so it could be a big driving today methinks. Plus the weather is terrible, raining the hardest it has since we arrived.

author Tim	location Doolin, Claire, Ireland
posted 10:17 BST 26/06/2003	section Europe2002/Europe/Ireland/Ireland 1 ( all photos )

Kerry and Claire - Bunratty, Cliffs of Moher, Doolin ( 42 photos )
We headed off early, driving through the city of Limerick (many people had mentioned that you didn't want to waste your time there, and especially didn't want to park a camper van there - we didn't need to think hard about it).
Instead, after missing it totally the first time, we eventually made it to Bunratty Castle and Folk Park, Bunratty. So many people had said this was worth seeing, that we didn't even mind paying the high fee to get in (as an aside, all prices in our Lonely Planet, published only in February, have gone up quite a lot, some by almost double), and we weren't disappointed.
We had come only for the castle, but actually enjoyed the folk park more. Think Old Sydney Town, but with lots of different types of dwellings, quaint shops, people you can watch make apple pie and the eat some next door, or some cake on the peat fire topped with butter made that morning. And somehow it avoided being totally tourist-tacky despite all this. You didn't feel there were thirty coach-loads plus a carpark full of cars worth of people there, even if there was.
We lunched on their replica main street before taking on the castle itself. Built in 1425, it is almost totally intact, and everything inside is at least two hundered years old. This is attributed to a great restoration project in the 1970's where huge amounts were spent by private owners then the whole thing bequeathed to the Irish people. Very generous of them. We wandered around the place, dodging up tiny spiral staircases between coach-loads of French tourists (we learnt "thankyou" and "excuse me" very quickly), before deciding that as great as it sounded, the Medieval Banquet they hold twice-nightly complete with serving whenches, mead and lots of carved-up animals would have to wait until next trip, when we were on better terms with the bank manager.
We drove through the county town of Claire, Ennis, which had almost nothing going for it, stopping instead at the little town of Ennistmon, which Lonely Planet had pointed out had free internet access in the library. We didn't need to be told twice, as Liz and I both sat there for an hour and a half catching up with the world's events. Unfortunately, we couldn't plug the laptop in so no website upload from there.
Next on the list was the spectacular Cliffs of Moher, which once again had been discovered by people from as far as Asia, and even some old ockers wearing John Farnham T-Shirts. There were local buskers of course, playing some sea shanties which managed to fit in rather well with the views.
And weren't they great. You are about 200m up from the sea, and if you get far enough away from every one else, you can just hear the faint crashes of waves below. Sea birds squark in the distance, circling and nesting on the rocks, almost as oblivious of the heights as those moronic people who choose to stand right on the edge and look over, despite the massive piles of broken rocks at the bottom where millions of years of erosion has seen the cliffs move further and further back.
The section you can officially walk along is actually rather small, and the rest is private property, but that didn't stop plenty of people moving in for a closer look. The views we got were plenty good enough to make us not think too badly of the four euro charge just to park your car. Guess the government has to get some money from it somehow.
Onwards to Doolin, a small town in three parts in the middle of nowhere, by the sea. Apparently people come from far and wide just to hear the traditional music in the pubs each night, so we had to check that out of course. This we did after dinner and walking ten minutes or so from the caravan park to where the pubs were.
We went into the most famous/popular pub, O'Connors, where our plan of arriving early to get a decent seat (around 7:30, music at 9:30) almost didn't work - the place was jammed. We grabbed two seats at the bar and relaxed, awaiting the band. A local turned up and sat next to us at the bar, who turned out to be a guitarist who plays there on the weekends, checking out the competition. We had a good chat, then he wandered off as the band started.
They played amazing well a combination of ballads, reels and jigs, and the spirits were high all night. Walking carefully back to the caravan park (we have a great little site, right beside the river), we retired after yet another full day in Ireland.

author Tim	location Doolin, Claire, Ireland
posted 10:17 BST 26/06/2003	section Europe2002/Europe/Ireland/Ireland 1 ( all photos )

Kerry and Claire - Killarney, Dingle ( 17 photos )
Our attempts on Tuesday to find out just what a Bog Village is were thwarted on two counts - the huge numbers of tourist buses there and also our lack of cash. No great loss.
Driving into Killarney a happy service station attendant fueled up the bus and chatted about the weather and the like, all with a smile before running off to do the same elsewhere. A bit further on we went in to a big Tesco in Tralee to stock up on essentials to make dinner for the next few days. We ducked as we cleared a 2.6m maxiumum height bar - just.
Next diversion was down the Dingle Peninsula. This had been recommended by several different parties, so we were keen to see what the fuss was about. The most interesting part there was driving over the Conor Pass, a high, winding road over the mountains which form the central part of the peninsula and make it the highest mountain pass in Ireland. It has to be said, it wasn't as difficult driving as when we drove up Hardknott Pass in England, but that was in a small car!
We were by far the biggest vehicle in the car park at the top, which the funny looks from other tourists confirmed. Or perhaps we were just really ugly.
Back down the otherside to the town of Dingle, nestled in between the hills. This place is famous for the resident Dolphin, Funghi. They do boat trips where you get your money back if he doesn't come and dance around the boat like it some kind of a game, but we were not in the mood to part with such lumps of cash. Instead, after a quick walk around the town, we drove down a one-track four-wheel-drive-only kind of road which dumped us at a tiny carpark on the beach. From there, we had a great view across the bay, including Funghi rolling around in the limelight.
Driving back inland along a slightly easier road, we headed towards Tralee, the onwards to Castleisland for a rest after our large amount of driving. We had a quick look around the town, stretching our legs before picking a place to aim for the night.
We considered finding a place off the beaten track, and as such drove generally towards the town of Adare, but zig-zagging of the main road looking in a few little back-water towns. It turns our they were just a bit un-lively for our liking, so in the end we made it to probably our favourite caravan park so far, a couple of kilometres out of Adare.
We ate dinner in the blazing sun, sitting by the van and soaking up the rays in a way you still have to enjoy when it happens here.
The town had been mentioned as particularly beautiful, so we headed in after dinner to check it out. We found a nice little pub with a friendly guy running it who had lived in Sydney for quite some time, and he actually had an Ettamogah Pub poster on the wall, although he didn't think it was real! We quickly let him know just how real it was, and that, infact we used to play band gigs sitting there, and gossiped about so-and-so while standing there. Not at all what we had expected in a small town like that!

author Tim	location Glenross Caravan & Camping Park, Glenbeigh, Kerry, Ireland
posted 09:28 BST 24/06/2003	section Europe2002/Europe/Ireland/Ireland 1 ( all photos )

South-West Cork and Kerry ( 23 photos )
Monday was the day to put some serious miles on the clock as we headed around the wonderful coastal landscapes of south-western Cork and Kerry. First was Mizen Head Peninsula, where we drove right down to the lighthouse along some treacherous one-track roads, had a look around the visitor's centre where a great little old Irish guy was playing an accordian and singing folk-songs. We listened for a while, and became charged once again to find a pub doing the traditional music, which has thus far been hard to come across.
Morning tea stop was at a little cafe where they had donkeys and horses in a field which we fed before getting back on the road, heading towards the famous Ring of Kerry via great little towns such as Bantry and Glengarriff.
The Ring was reached through a high mountain pass with tunnels and the like - Liz was having a ball! We joined the ring at Kenmare, where we drove west along the Kenmare River, constantly in awe at the views. The reputation this area has is certainly justified. There's not really words for it, you just have to see it for yourself.
One stop we made was at the 2000 year-old Staigue Fort, 4km of the beaten tourist track up very narrow one-track roads we just managed to squeeze through. The dry-stone fort was built in such a location that you have a great view of the water on the river, but it is almost impossible to see from the river itself.
Pushing ourselves, we viewed most of the ring from the van on our way around, as each little town could have taken a few days of exploration, but the thousands of tourists on coaches really blighted the thought of that. Perhaps next time, off season.
We did stop at one stage at a pub which claimed to have "the most famous view in Ireland". I wouldn't disagree, it was such a wonderful vista over the islands below, and the weather held out well to provide a stunning scene.
The night was spent in the Glenross Caravan and Camping Park, on the outskirts of the town of Glenbeigh. More expensive than we were hoping, it was nice but now it's time to push on - we are aiming for the curiously-titled Kerry Bog Village Museum.

author Tim	location Glenross Caravan & Camping Park, Glenbeigh, Kerry, Ireland
posted 09:28 BST 24/06/2003	section Europe2002/Europe/Ireland/Ireland 1 ( all photos )

Blarney Castle, Cork City ( 35 photos )
Sunday our luck changed and we actually managed to see things. First thing was first - back to the Blarney Castle, where we were some of the first in, dodging the huge crowds arriving as we left. The place is extremely picturesque, and you get the feeling that if the story of the stone (kissing it gives you the "gift of the gab", or "the ability to tell lies for seven years" as Elizabeth I said) wasn't around, it would be a lovely little un-spoilt place. Going straight up the precariously-winding staircase which somehow managed to cope with the heavy tourist traffic, we emerged on the top, and took in the great views of the surrounding area. It's about six stories high, straight up like a needle, and the kissing part happens at the top. You lie on your back, hold some handles, and get pushed off the edge backwards to where the well-worn stone is. Not for those with vertigo, we both braved it and now talk much more. I think.
Pushing our luck, we took a third swipe at getting into Cork city. This time, we found that Sunday is a day where the place is almost completely deserted in the morning, presumably because of the vast quantity of church-goers performing their weekly tasks. As such, parking was not too hard to find on the side of the road, and we grabbed the Lonely Planet for a walk around town. First we found a net cafe, where I uploaded the last update. The guy only let me plug my laptop in because it is an Apple - he had one as well and was quite pleased to have someone to blather on to about them.
Taking off on a wander around the city, we saw plenty of interesting old buildings, but found that in general the hype people had built up about how it was a great place to see was somehow not lived up to. Sure, there were nice bridges over the rivers through town, but they weren't half as nice as in Amsterdam. The massive ugly roadworks didn't help things much either, and in the end we jumped back in the van to continue onwards.
We were hoping that recommendations of the town of Kinsale, a little while south of Cork city were closer to the mark, and we were not disappointed. The description of "picture postcard prettiness blighted by traffic in summer" is spot-on, as it its reputation as the gourmet captial of Ireland.
First on the agenda was some lunch, this was our big spend for the week. We stopped at a fish and chips restaurant (they don't really exist in Oz, think of a nice restaurant which just happens to serve seafood, including fish and chips, not a greasy corner shop), before wandering around the quaint little town, dodging cars but still enjoying the old buildings.
Pushing further along the south coast, we stopped in just-as-beautiful but not nearly as popular towns with names such as Timoleague, Courtmacsherry (where we had a little picnic beside the road), and Clonakilty.
Our aim for the night was The Hideaway Camping and Caravan Park, Skibbereen. Not far out of town, we parked and set up before wandering back in to spend the evening soaking up the friendly small-town atmosphere.

author Tim	location Glenross Caravan & Camping Park, Glenbeigh, Kerry, Ireland
posted 09:28 BST 24/06/2003	section Europe2002/Europe/Ireland/Ireland 1 ( all photos )

Cork ( 20 photos )
We took a first swipe at going to kiss the fabled Blarney stone, about 3km from the caravan park. However, as we arrived and had just completed the rather long leaving-the-van routine of locking everything and putting valuables out of sight, etc., wandered over to the ticket office and it started raining.
Sure, that happens plenty of places, but the castle and its grounds are quite expansive and almost all un-covered, so for our hefty entrance fee, we wanted to enjoy it.
So, back in the bus and on to the next port of call, the Old Midleton Distillery. After dragging the girls to lots of distilleries all around Scotland, this was to be my one and only one over here - distillers of my favourite Jameson whiskey. This place actually has been superceeded by one down the road, but it was great to see the way things used to work, and since it wasn't running, you get a lot closer to the action. At the tasting at the end, Liz even started to like the stuff...
Next, we wandered down the road to the town of Cobh (pronounced "cove"). A nice little sea-side resort, it was the last port of call for the Titanic, and as such has the "White Star Line Hotel" and other such tourist-isms. We escaped most of this at a little cafe for a light brunch, before wandering back up the steep hills to the van.
People had mentioned to us a few times that the town (as opposed to the county) of Cork was worth visiting. So, we tried. However, the Irish seem to have a huge dislike for labelling their streets in any fashion. Road signs are an approximation at best, and we don't have particularly detailed maps which doesn't help much either. So, trying to park an over-height van in the middle of a city was always going to be a challenge. We discovered all manner of interesting back streets, but ended up almost totally lost. Giving up, we returned to our caravan park to attempt to get into Cork another way.
For our second attempt, we drove the van into the town of Blarney, where there is a bus that goes into the centre of Cork. "So", you might say, "you just got on that bus". Well, we found the bus stop eventually (the map of that town is even worse than the one of Cork), and got there at 3:25, just in time for the 3:30 bus. By about 3:55, we thought that the 4:00 bus might turn up. By about 4:20 we figured if a bus ever did turn up, most things in the town would be closed anyway, so we gave up Cork Attempt Two, heading to the Blarney Stone Hotel for a quiet drink with the other tourists. There was a noisy wedding driving past to presumably kiss the stone together, so we decided against going to look at that again.
Back to cook dinner, before wandering around the Blarney Golf Course next-door.

author Tim	location Blarney Caravan & Camping Park, Stoneview, Blarney, Cork, Ireland
posted 21:37 BST	section Europe2002/Europe/Ireland/Ireland 1 ( all photos )

Ring Peninsula, Lismore, Lisgoold, into Cork ( 36 photos )
We awoke this morning a little later than usual (we are slowly getting our bodies out of the habit of waking up early), packed up and headed off down the road. Our ever-trusty guidebook pointed us at the Ring Peninsula 12km south of Dungarvan.
This is one of the few Gaeltacht areas in Ireland - which means the primary language is Gaelic, as reflected in the street signs, etc. Elsewhere in Ireland you get both languages or only English, but here it was as if we had finally made it to a completely different country.
Passing only two or so other cars along the amazing drive from Dungarvan, we arrived at the end of the road on Helvick Head. Along with the fantastic views across the harbour, there was a disused monastery and even an Irish language college.
Heading inland for a while, we came to the quaint little town of Cappoquin, where we had some morning tea and a look around the little shops. Running low on cash (as always), we went in to the post office to ask whether they changed cash. The answer came "no, but the bank at the end of town does - you'll have to hurry, they close in five minutes". Five minutes to get to the end of town! And it was only 12:25!
We should have remembered that, as home to only a thousand people, the end of town wasn't far away. About five shops, in fact. Upon entering, we were both totally amazed to be greeted straight away by an amazingly friendly teller, given some postcards, asked about our travels in a genuinely interested way, have our accents picked, and then be given cash out of what amounted to not much more than a pile of money within easy reach over the counter. Try that in the NAB. We were waved off, Euros in hand, and wished a pleasant journey. Total shell-shock. That's small-town Ireland.
About 6km out of town, we came to the Mt Melleray Cistercian Abbey, an amazingly huge thing built by some Irish monks expelled from France. Good place they picked, too. Beautiful grounds, almost totally silent. Only thing which disturbed it was the huge coach-load of school kids, just enough to convince us not to bother having a look around inside.
Back in our bus, we trundled through to Lismore. Twinned with Lismore in New South Wales, this one is far prettier. It is totally dominated by Lismore Castle, and built on the River Blackwater. We walked along the river-bank for a while before returning to have a look at St Carthage's Cathedral perched up on the opposite hill to the castle - a simple affair, we both thought it fitted in just right with a town of 750 people. Not so for the massive castle, which is only viewable by private hire for an extortinate sum of money.
Following some back-roads in the general direction of Cork, we stopped for a general rest at The Thatch pub in a village which we didn't know the name of at the time, but later believe was called Lisgoold. An Omen?
The pub itself was a nice friendly place, where we got chatting with drunk old local men, the middle-age land-lady who has recently taken over with her family and is discovering how little the locals like change, and the young bar-girl with a Melbournian boyfriend. Everyone is interested, and everyone wants to suggest ways of helping out. Great friendly country, this.
We drove on in to county Cork to our stop for the night, Blarney Caravan and Camping Park. From here we plan to explore Cork, Blarney and Kinsale over the next couple of days, and perhaps a little more of this rest we keep thinking a holiday is supposed to be about.

author Tim	location Blarney Caravan & Camping Park, Stoneview, Blarney, Cork, Ireland
posted 21:37 BST 20/06/2003	section Europe2002/Europe/Ireland/Ireland 1 ( all photos )

Ireland! - Wexford and Waterford ( 22 photos )
(Continued from South England 2)
It has long been a dream of Liz and I to make it to Ireland, and it nearly didn't happen on two counts: for one, we didn't quite know how to fit in driving one way to Ireland then going back across England to continue travels around Europe, and secondly, due to our mechanical problems.
The latter seem to be ok now, the old girl is battling on around the country, and Liz is driving her more and more. It's quite different to driving a nice tight little car like Percy - the steering is an approximation, gears are miles apart, the whole car is backwards, and about a foot wider and three feet higher than a normal car. Not to mention that driving at any speed over about 80km/h leaves you at the total mercy of the wind - lots of fun when overtaking trucks on motorways. So Liz is doing just fine!
So we are now safe and sound here, enjoying our travels around the countryside.

In the morning our ferry was reasonable - a little rough but nothing much to complain about. Getting up and convincing our bodies to so something useful at 2:30am after going to sleep only two or three hours earlier was a little challenging, but we were awake enough (we think) to notice that nobody on either side of the crossing checked our passports at all. I thought everyone was clamping down on security?
These Stena Line ferries are pretty big, we got squashed in on the truck deck because we were too tall for the normal car section.
We tried to grab some sleep with a little success, but in all we were playing for the rest of the day on about three hours sleep.
Driving off the ferry at the other end in Rosslare, we thought it was an appropriate time to plan what we were going to do. First decison: right or left? In the end, we are going in a clockwise direction around Ireland, starting at the south-east corner.
It rapidly became appropriate that Ireland is a confused little place. Speed limit signs are in mph, but distance measurements are in kilometres. After using miles for so long, I have decided that I like kilometres much better because they pass so much faster as you are on a long drive!
We had (obviously) no real plans, so after a quick consultation with our friendly Ireland Lonely Planet, we headed for the little fishing town of Wexford. Famous for almost nothing, we looked at the old town gates and walls, and got our first Euros out of the bank.
Of much greater scenic interest was the Hook Peninsula a little further along. Home to the world's/Europe's/Ireland's (delete depending on which source you choose to believe) oldest lighthouse, and some scenic coastline which boasted a huge boulder high up which had been washed up a couple of hundered years ago in a huge storm.
We had a fairly interesting tour of said lighthouse, run by one of the local girls with only Liz and I as the tour group. It was fairly early, but we had been up since 2am. Not sure what she thought of two un-washed, un-shaven (well me anyway) Australians prancing around with cameras, but I guess they get it often.
We travelled back up the peninsula looking at the haunted Loftus Hall, a ruined medieval church used by the Templar Knights, then a little further on to Dunbrody Abbey.
Here we left county Wexford and entered county Waterford, driving into the town of the same name. We wanted to have a little look around the town itself, so attempted to park in one of the many places to do so (Lonely Planet describes the town as one long parking lot), where Liz had to get out to get a ticket (it's on the wrong side, you see), got one, and I then noticed one of those height-restriction bars. Problem. 2.2 metres is less than 2.5 metres, so I reversed carefully on to the main road and sped away from the approaching traffic. Liz ran down the road after me.
So it was out of the town centre for us, onwards to the one thing of merit - the Waterford Crystal Visitor Centre. Not being collector of such things (I don't even claim to understand the attraction of it all), we were pleasantly suprised by the variety on offer, the friendliness of staff (see above for description of our appearances), and just how interesting it was. The prices were enough to bring us back down to earth however.
Next item of business was to organise a place to stay for the night. Job was done as we selected a caravan park just out of Dungarvan. By this time, a shower was well overdue, so we went straight to pick a pitch, get some shower tokens and relieve the world of our uncleanliness.
Although it was not our first night in a campground, we became very aware of plenty of people staring at us. Almost without exception, everyone else has a huge (I mean a truck-size huge) British or Irish registered white caravan or campervan, TV antennae, awnings, flashy cars to tow their vans, sewerage pipes, chocks for the wheels, microwaves, ovens, and enough other bits and pieces to re-define the term "mobile home".
Even though we don't see it as most stay for several days at a time, I imagine that their set-up process is about a two-hour task. We take three minutes. First, reverse the van on to the pitch. Secondly, connect the electricity. Third, get out our two folding outdoor chairs. Lastly, relax and do nothing after a job well done.
Sure, we have a laptop and other fancy gear with us, but we are happy to be away from a "home", meaning no TV, no microwave and certainly no satellite dishes!
So our bright-red, (relatively) small, Aussie-driven, Dutch-registered, quick-to-set-up van always gets people interested. Everyone says hello, while some want to chat for a long time.
That evening we wandered down the road to a nearby hotel bar where we had our first Irish drinks - including of course a Guiness (yes, it does taste different here to England, and it is a different drink all together to what you get in Oz).
Back to cook dinner in the van before reading a little and crashing very very tired to bed.

(customised)