DAY THREE
Just about everyone knows about Stonehenge...
... but what a lot of people don't know is that the UK and Ireland are littered
with smaller, less-famous stone circles.
A quick Google search turned up one just twenty minutes away from Inistioge
As we headed to the trail, three dogs came out of their yards, barking, with tails wagging.
We gave them a friendly"Hey, doggies," then set off.
However, the dogs stayed with us.
And stayed with us.
And stayed with us.
We soon realized that these dogs weren't doing the usual doggy thing...
... but were instead working as doggy tour guides.
Which was fortunate, because sometimes the path looked like this...
and sometimes like this...
but sometimes like this:
However, whenever we got lost, we just looked for the pups.
And look where they brought us!
I'll admit it: one of the reasons I wanted to see the circle was so that I could recreate
the famous "Stonehenge" scene from Spinal Tap.
"I think that the problem *may* have been, that there was a Stonehenge monument on the stage that was in danger of being crushed by a dwarf."
And, oh how they danced,
The little children of Stonehenge...
There were some flowers placed there,
which was a reminder to this smarty-pants American that this was an actual burial site,
and not just a place for her to get her geek on.
The doggies, meanwhile, came up to get their fee (pets, of course)...
and after a final look around...
... we headed back down the hill.
(Technically, the above is from when we went UP the hill,
but it's a nice photo of The Boy so I'm including it here.)
(My attempt at a family portrait.
Sorry, Girl! I guess this won't be the Christmas card, after all!)
We headed into Kilkenny, to hit a cafe and bookstore...
Hey! The Irish are fans of Captain Underpants, too!
...and then we went to Kilkenny Castle.
Which, although satisfyingly "castle-y" on the outside,
was not so much on the inside
as it had been renovated in a Victorian/Georgian/I can't tell the difference style.
The thing is, as an American, about the only castles I see in real life
are those on a miniature golf course.
So when I see a castle, I want it to be a CASTLE,
with damp stone walls and mysterious, blood-like stains on the uneven floor
and mournful crows cawing on the whatever they call those pointy parts at the top.
"Caw! Caw! I'll pluck your eyes out!"
I should have just asked our doggy guides.
They probably could have led me to a more dramatic castle.
*** *** *** *** *** ***
I make many juvenile jokes about a sacred place.
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