|
|
||||||
|
We have our final breakfast at the Alpine House. This B+B has been wonderful, and it is a perfect base for our stay in Dingle. We pay our bill and send a fax to Mrs. Collins, alerting her of our arrival time at
her B+B on Sunday. I buy a carry-on bag for the plane and have coffee and write in my journal. There's some bitter sweetness now that the trip is nearing completion, but generally I'm quite anxious to return home to my wife and step daughters. I've had as good a trip as
one can have. Except for a few harrowing experiences with wind and traffic, this has been a smooth and nearly trouble-free trip, leaving the beauty of the country to my enjoyment. But I'm more than ready to return to home and hearth. Six weeks is a very long time to be
away from one's love, and I know that this is a once-in-a-lifetime trip - I could never do this again without Marcia. The bus is in Dingle by 2:15 p.m., and after stripping our bikes for the zillionth time so that they will fit and lift into the bus emergency door, we fly toward Tralee over hills and around curves and against farm tractors and other carriages and lorries. It
is a wild, white knuckled trip. Tralee is not the dull town that my guide book contends. It has the rare large, groomed park right in the town center. Parks are uncommon in Ireland, and the ones I found are
an after thought, often small, unkempt and with few niceties. This park has a wonderful rose garden with hundreds of roses including a rose arbor about 150' long. It has a large green the size of a football field and also an area of numerous tree plantings. We wander the meandering town
until we find a restaurant that looks decent for a low cost meal. We get lost, get our bearings, and return home, and I feel my excitement level rise to a new pitch as I contemplate returning home after just two more nights in Ireland. |
||||||
| Next | ||||||
