It’s our last morning at the cottage and I’m enjoying my last bowl of Wheatabix for a while. I probably shouldn’t be having dairy so soon after the incident, but all I’ve had in 36 hours has been a quarter of an apple and three measly crackers so I’m starving. Roll the bones McClain.
I woke up sometime before dawn and after lying in bed for two hours, I finally decided to get up. The sky is the clearest it’s been all week and I can see sun painting the eastern side of the farmhouse a few fields over.
Sun, what a welcomed sight.
It’s been drizzly, or at least overcast, for most of our time here but we haven’t really minded it because it makes the peat fires in every pub, hearty beef and Guinness stew, and breaks for tea all the more welcome.
Today we will go up to Galway for lunch and a little tour of the area. John F. Kennedy’s family emigrated from Galway and when he toured Ireland in 1963, he visited that city. Galway also houses the Claddagh museum, for all you fellow Claddagh wearers out there. From there, we will make the trek back across the country and stay the night in Dublin before flying out.
I will miss this little cottage and these sweet people; they have been good to us.
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