Favorite Things about our trip to Ireland:

almost missing our flight because line one was down. Especially bad because no one else in the group knew where we were going, staying, how to get there, what to do, etc. Realizing only as I was walking out to the plane from the gate that we had indeed made the flight.

realizing we couldn't make our connection to Dingle because there was no bus going there that night. Non-summer hours are a lot more limited than in July. Woops!



listening to "Elephant" by Damien Rice until my ears wanted to fall out. I never realized before how satisfying that one part in the bridge is. Please listen.

Listening to Damien Rice in general while we spent long hours on the bus.



Eating a lot of bourbon creams and corners yogurt...

coming into Dingle, renting bikes, and taking five other girls on a 30 mile bike ride that they thought was going to be about eight miles. I never insinuated this. Someone talked to someone on the plane who said they did an eight mile loop. So, no one had any idea what they were getting into. Except for me, but I had forgotten how long it was except for a last grueling hill. Woops! They were all grateful later that they really had no idea what that bike ride entailed. Except for Kirsten would still have done it even if she knew. She would have done it twice.

Taking this picture SOLELY for the purpose of trying to make Whitney jealous (compare here):

a few photo shoots:

Rachel, senior pictures anyone? and...yeah.

I legitimately thought that Cami was going to kill me right here. She was a bit angry that I led her to believe differently than she felt...we were about 25 miles into the ride. She was considering turning around at mile number four.

Cute animals. Especially because they aren't all dirty and gross
like the pigeons and dogs here in Paris.

With ridiculous luck, it was a beautiful day on Saturday, and the man at the hostel tried to convince Cami and I to ride our bikes to the base of Mt. Brandon and then hike the mountain. Cami had vowed the day before that she would never again ride a bike. When we proceeded to go out the door to visit shops, he offered to drive us up in his car and then we could walk back to Dingle and enjoy the beautiful, clear view. He had room for four people in his car. We had six. Kirsten and I sat in the trunk. We all went. There was a hill higher than where the hostel guy (I really wish I knew his name) took us, so Kirsten and I climbed it. Obviously.

it was that hill. And then we walked from the top along the ridge back to Dingle.

Then we completely soaked our chacos and feet into basically the bog of the peak of the mountain, and made our way down through sheep poop and over about ten fences and did some unintentional sheep-worrying. It was ABsoLUtely BRILliant.

marshy summit and ancient ruin of really old shelter...called a beehive or something?

Rachel being groped (on accident) by the B&B lady whose place we stayed at last night. I stood awkwardly in the corner while Cami and Rachel talked her down from 25 to 20 euros.

Never Having to use my rain jacket.

Getting to know these girls better:

Kirsten, Caitlin, Cami, Me, Camille, Rachel.

Yay!