by the grace of saint brigid (the tale of dave)

We began with a brief stop at Saint Brigid's Well. It's an active shrine frequented by pilgrims; Dave said a group is coming this Sunday. The pilgrims recite a chant and walk five times sunwise around the statue of Brigid. (Quick quiz: Imagine a bridge. Now imagine yourself on the island counterclockwise from it, relative to Saint Brigid in the center of the arena.) There are more mechanics I don't recall, but I'm sure the pilgrims got this. The well is in an alcove with woven reed crosses, lit candles, photos of pilgrims' loved ones, and saint statues festooned with dozens of cross necklaces. If you see an eel in the well, you get good luck and any conditions cured (I did not see an eel).

We then went to the Cliffs of Moher, where Dave tried to trick our way into a better parking spot. The big bus parking lot is right beside the cliffs, while the normal parking lot is ten minutes' walk away. We don't meet the minimum passenger req for the big bus lot, but Dave drove up anyway and was like, "Hey, I know we're only seven but we've got a passenger with a twisted ankle (indicating K). Can we park here?" It didn't work. First they made us wait for the manager (we could've walked over in that time). The manager said K and one other could disembark, but Dave had to park in the regular lot and the rest of us had to walk. Outfoxed. The manager has seen this trick too many times. It was a good try though.

The Cliffs of Moher are the cooler, more popular brother of the Cliffs of Kilkee. Less of an introspective nature walk, more of a Tourist Experience (tm). Stunning views though. K's ankle was healed by the grace of Saint Brigid, though at one point she saw the parking attendant looking her way and remembered to limp.

We then traveled to the Burren, a region where thick limestone deposits cover the ground. Millennia of rain have worn down the limestone into wavy snakelike shapes, with lichens and tiny flowers and meager clumps of grass perched in the gaps. There was a "portal tomb" (dolmen), an upright structure of limestone where bones of the dead were interred. (Why "portal"? K suggested it's a portal to the afterlife, but doesn't every tomb serve that function? Google says the upright stones are named portal stones, which is still not an explanation.)

We spent the afternoon in the city of Galway, except first we spent a bunch of time stuck in traffic jams. Dave shaved minutes off our travel time by cruising down the empty bus lane past a line of stopped traffic. They will sing ballads about the trickster and scofflaw Dave. Though technically we are a bus.

You can learn about the character of a nation from its drivers. Irish drivers are so chill. After Dave essentially jumped the queue by driving down the bus lane, the lane ended and someone immediately let him back into line. And I'm still impressed by the one-lane two-way roads where one oncoming car will pull over to let the other pass, no big deal. Asian drivers would never.

In Galway, we went to the "mall," an area with stores and restaurants where the streets are designated for foot traffic only. One street, strung with bright flags, leads to the harbor where there's a farmer's market. It was a nice day and shoppers were out in force. It was so packed it was hard to move, like the German Christmas market back home. "It's like getting washed away on that street, isn't it," Dave said later. But we had a good time. We went to a toy store and Mom got a multicolored Jenga set for BB. He's a little young for Jenga, but he'll love having a bunch of blocks in different colors.