This morning we decided as the sun was peeking out a bit, we should visit the Cliffs of Moher, but before we visited the cliffs we paid a visit to a nearby burial ground. Graveyards are striking here — old Celtic crosses and usually a building, often in ruins share a bit of land with newer gravestones — some of which have photographs on them. The one we visited had all three and was worth the visit.
On the way to the cliffs, along the coastal route we were stopped at a hairpin turn behind a tour bus that slowly made the turn and ended up in the opposite lane. I wondered aloud what would happen if two tour buses met on a curve like that when an articulated lorry came from the other way. I found out what happened when one unmovable force met another unmovable force — traffic jam!
The Cliffs of Moher is one of Ireland’s leading tourist attractions. Dean and I had been there before — in 1985 when we toured Europe for our honeymoon. I recall not being terribly impressed with them — Dean said perhaps I was jaded from the tour bus ride. Dean remembers being scared when we visited, fearing someone would fall over the side.
The attraction is much different now than it was 23 years ago. A visitor’s center has been built into the hill so you don’t really notice it until you’re right next to it. It is quite tastefully done, and possibly the most interesting thing about the attraction. Safety walls have been built up so one would really have to work to fall off the cliffs. Steps and ramps have also been built.
We snapped a few photos of the cliffs, etc. and toured the visitor’s center. I wish I could say it was worth the time and money spent, but I really can’t. Andrew was a little disappointed I was not excited, but in all honesty, I think he liked the visitor’s center best anyway with its interactive exhibits.
When we returned home I did some laundry. Irish washing machines are different than the machines I’m used to in the States. For one thing, the washer and dryer are often the same machine. For another, the clothes don’t actually get dry. I guess, if you keep drying the clothes they’d eventually dry, but after a couple of hours it begins to get old. I ended up usually hanging the damp clothes over the radiators, or when the weather was decent I hung them on the clothesline.
Clare constructed a fairy house outside the cottage, complete with a thatched roof. She also left some milk out for the fairies. They ended up repaying her for her thoughtfulness.
While I cooked dinner Dean and the kids played cards in the sun room. The three of them often played gin rummy during quiet times. I joined in occasionally, but I’m not really a card game fan.
That evening, after a meal of pasta we spent a while at the rocky beach again — the kids looking at tidepools and playing with a friendly local dog.