Leaving the Cliffs of Moher, we traveled the N-67 to make our way to Galway. My sister, Omega, said that Galway is not to be missed if at all possible. The trip was eventful! First of all N-67, though it may appear to be a major artery on the map, is a two lane narrow twisty turny romp and in some cases, travels along side the Atlantic coast. At some points the land next to the byway is held in place by six foot rock fences that line the N-67! Over these fences creep woody vines and tree branches that actually brush up against the car if you get too close. Too close? For anyone not aquatinted with cars in Ireland, the driver is sitting in the right side of the vehicle. The typical Irish car is a standard shift. For the entire first day, Joe would reach towards the right to shift, utter the mother of all curses "FOOT!" and then reach to the left for the gear shift on the floor next to me. He thought he was burning out the clutch at many points in this trip and I was grateful that the smell of grinding gears was displaced by the smell of cattle.
We shared the road at one point with the cattle. I saw this gent on the roadway, dressed in long overcoat, knee-high boots, with a staff and the Irish cap. I thought to myself (because I knew not to talk to Joe and break his concentration except when I would have to shout out some warning)! "what in the world?" and then I saw the cattle, moseying along in the middle of N-67. I screamed "COW," Joe down shifted. We made it around the cow parade and even got a nod from the farmer!
We entered into the town of Ballyvaghan. Even though it was still raining off and on, the town looked inviting. We pulled off to the side of the road and parked. (I will for the rest of my life envision Joe kissing the ground as he exits the car, even though theoretically he never did this.)
We were soaked from the trip to the Cliffs. We wandered down the streets and found a small cafe that was just opening for lunch, around noon. I had a most marvelous vegetable soup that was made with a celery and cream base. While Joe had a nerve calming pint.
We headed back out and on to the area in Ireland known as the Burren.