Guidebook? What Guidebook?

DAY TWO

After the drama of the drive to our first stop,

we realized we were going to have to be more flexible about our plans.

I had purchased Rick Steves' book on Ireland back in the fall,

and it was invaluable for deciding which cities to stay in,

but I knew we couldn't drive to every cool thing he recommended.

So we looked through the pamphlets at our place,

and settled on the nearby city of Graignamanagh.

The knitty Girl pointed out that they had mill shop there, and we made that our destination.

After loading up on yarn at Cushendale Woolen Mills,

  (the lady nicely took us to the back to see equipment that had been used for generations)...

 

we headed over to Duiske Abbey:

'Sup, St. Fiacre?

It took me back every time I saw "Saint" Patrick, because, y'know,

he's pretty much just associated with a beer-y, green-wearing holiday here in the States.*

But he's actually a big deal with his homies!

(*Note:  I'm not Catholic, so that might have something to do with my surprise.)

The Boy and I couldn't decide if there was someone actually inside this box.

This pic is for my sister, as this sign weirdly has the exact name of someone she knows.

We would see a lot of graveyards over the next week.  

Now, before we left for Ireland, The Girl said, "I just want to see one castle."

I told her that would be no problem,

and sure enough when we went walking around the town

we saw these ruins in someone's backyard.  Their backyard!



However, they were fenced in, so The Girl didn't yet get to really experience a castle.

BMO says, "Boooo!!"

So when we saw another castle ruins that night in Inistioge, I told her to touch it!

Touch the castle!

What else did we see in Graignamanagh?

As we were walking along the scenic river...

 ...a car drove by.

With a Confederate flag on the hood.

"Did I just see the General Lee?" The Boy asked.

I finally figured out that the Confederate flag was probably one of those things,

like Saint Patrick, that had different weight and meaning in our two countries.

Or heck, maybe the guy was just a fan of The Dukes of Hazzard.

Or Catherine Bach.  Or Daisy Dukes.

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Next Up:  

the best tour guide we used had four legs.