Friendship

Friendship in Ogham

Word of the Day

Testlice - The tiny bugs that invade one's hair when they're taking an exam.

We decided to beat the crowds this morning getting our bags up to the lobby. There was another tour bus of people leaving at about the same time as we were leaving and we didn't want to clog the elevator. Good thing one of our fellow tour members discovered that secret ninja way up to the lobby through the hotel's basement service area. I'm sure the hotel manager wouldn't have appreciated us seeing all the mess and accumulated crap and dirt in said service area but the passageway sure saved my rear end and I didn't have to call for a porter.

Our itinerary said that we'd be heading to Cavan for the night (we did). On our way we were supposed to visit Boyle Abbey (we didn't) and Strokestown House and the Irish famine museum located there (we did). However, first, we stopped at The Foxford Woollen Mill in the town of Foxford in County Mayo for a tour and a shopping opportunity. Lots of shopping was done. This was our first chance to buy something made from all the wool from all those sheep we'd been seeing all over the country-side. Cute little buggers but you can only take so many pictures of them. Some of us wanted hats, scarves, and sweaters. I'm not sure Batt knew what he was getting into when he let a busload of women (and men)loose to go shopping but it took him about two hours before he could herd us all back on the bus...and then, it took a bit longer for us all to figure out how to fit our purchases into this nook and that cranny of the overhead compartments and under the seats. But, darn it, you can't go to Ireland without purchasing an honest to goodness Irish sweater!...and BW Babe bought a hat too.

By this time in the trip, a great many of us on the tour have succumbed to the lure of "The Hat". I think it all started after one lady bought this cute purple hat in the gift shop of one of our luncheon stops. It all kind of snowballed after that. Of course, none of the hats look the same because we're all a bit different on this tour. I bought my hat to hide the fact that my hair has gone terminally frizzy...and a nice little skunk line is starting to appear where I part my hair. Some got their hats because it's been pretty darn cold, some even bought mittens, but now, even the men are starting to get into the act. Of course, some of the men started out wearing hats (Lord Douglas and Mr. D wear baseball caps, though, Mr. D bought his baseball cap in Scotland), but now we've got tweed hats and driving hats added in the mix. We've become quite the attractive bunch with all of our stylish hats.

Because we spent so much time at the woolen mill (spelled woollen here in Ireland), we decided to sacrifice our visit to Boyle Abbey and the tour of house at Strokestown House, instead enjoying a nice meal at the café located on the site. The entrance to the parking area at Strokestown has a huge arched gate...but not all that huge when compared to a tour bus. We all held our breath as Mike, our bus-driver slowly maneuvered the bus through the gate. We JUST fit...I mean, we almost ended up scraping paint off the sides of the bus. We all inhaled and held our breath as if doing so would suddenly make the bus smaller. Silly but...we all clapped when we made it through. After our lunch, we took a sobering tour of the Irish Famine Museum which is located at Strokestown in one of the out-buildings. It was interesting to hear of the history and politics involved with the famine that was triggered when blight hit the main crop of these tenant farmers. Potatoes. After our tour of the museum, we all boarded the bus and poor Mike had to slowly squeak the bus through the narrow gate once again. And yes, we all held our breath while he barely managed to avoid scraping either the bus or the gate. The musicians on the bus have a strange sense of humor. Both times Mike drove through that gate (very slowly) the musicians played suspense music that was fitting for the situation.

We arrived at our hotel for the night...eventually. Batt and Mike had a hard time finding it and finally had to stop to ask directions. This hotel has two stories but no elevator. Thankfully, BW Babe and I lucked out with a ground floor room. We set up our electronics and headed for the bar to get a pre-dinner drink which we ended up taking into the dining room with us. Hey! It takes a bit to set up all our electronics. Finding the outlets, hooking up (we've got free Internet tonight), entering passwords. And then, of course, we need to figure out where to put our luggage. This room isn't all that big but...we're getting better at figuring out who needs to sleep in which bed and where to stow things so we don't trip on them on our way to the WC in the middle of the night.

There's supposed to be music tonight in the bar here at the hotel but BW Babe headed off to bed without even eating her dessert. By the way, her dessert didn't go to waste...we all dug in. It was pretty darn good. I am soooo going to have to eat healthy when I get home and do LOTS of crunches and walk miles and miles to make up for all this food I've been eating.

Our time remaining here in Ireland is getting short. Tomorrow we head to Dublin and our last day and night of the tour. It won't be long at all before we'll all be winging off, back to our own homes. I'm truly going to be sorry to say goodbye, to Scotland and Ireland and the people who have been part of this great experience...especially Lord Douglas, the Harpist, and Mr. D...though, I know, that I'll be seeing the Harpist and Lord Douglas in the future. And BW Babe...well, after all, she is my sister. I'll be seeing her for the rest of the summer. I'll wait and miss here when I return to Arizona in the fall. As for the rest of the tour members, I'm hoping to collect emails so we can stay in touch.

I didn't take many pictures today...no real opportunity. However, I did get a great picture of some great examples of Ogham writing at one of the gift shops. I think one of the grave stones that we photographed during the first week of our tour had some Ogham writing on it. I'm going to have to go back and take a closer, blown up look at those pictures. Ogham is one of the oldest forms of writing, dating back to the 1st Century. It was the first form of writing in Ireland, but if you click on the link, you will find that examples of Ogham writing on stone have also been found in Scotland and other surrounding areas.

Random Quote of the Day

Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned, worn or consumed. Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace and gratitude.

Denis Waitley