Crying Cockles and Mussels, Alive, Alive, Oh

I just returned from a wonderful, shenanigan-filled week in Ireland.  With St. Paddy's Day, gorgeous weather, and the Six Nations (Ireland took home it's first rugby grand slam since 1948), my timing could not have been better.

Ireland is a difficult place to write about.  I find myself having trouble coming up with superlatives, as most everything I experienced was either awesome, amazing, or green.  The only real tourist attraction I managed to fit in was a day-trip to the Cliffs of Moher, an amazing sight on Ireland's West Coast.  It's the kind of place where you can answer your phone like this:

Ring Ring Ring

"Hello?" 

"Oh hey what's up."

"Not too much, just standing on the edge of Europe, what are you up to?"

The best part of our awesome day trip, which included stops at abbey's, ancient stone sculptures, and Fairy Forts (where the leprechaun's live), was our amazing bus driver/tour guide/comedian for the day, Ray.

With his green top-hat and whimsical accent, Ray informed us about the Burren, the lunar-like limestone landscape unique to this part of Ireland, and why exactly you don't mess with the little people.  His sense of humor was amazing.

After setting us up for twenty minutes about politicians who had homes in this part of Ireland, Ray drove the bus slowly past a couple of particularly dirty donkeys.  When he explained the origins of Irish cowsheeps (apparently all the inter-species hanky panky started when the cows were cold one night) he showed us what clearly was a llama, and when the CD player in the bus broke, Ray sang.  

If anyone else finds themselves in Galway, please take Galway City Tours specifically.  Why you ask?

Because they're awesome.