right.
Shannon Airport seemed extremely small compared to the behemoths that are JFK and Logan Boston. of course, i didn't see much of Shannon. i felt relieved, displaced, alone, and a bit worried that my bag didn't follow me. it did. great. so now i have to find the bus, because i had a ticket to Dingle town, and no clue when the next bus left, or even where to catch it.
it wasn't too hard to figure that all out. i saw a bus go by. i followed it to an outdoor bus shelter. it happened to be my bus, so i got on. this is 10 minutes after i got my bag.
Bus Éireann's schedule turns out to be pretty tight--except for Limerick, where i was able to walk into town to get a SIM card for my phone and a quick fish sandwich, it was off one bus and onto the next almost immediately. i didn't talk to anyone. i took some pictures, which you can see HERE at my photobucket site. mostly what i saw was highway. i was sitting on the left side of the bus, and i kept having these flashes of panic because the cars were passing us on the wrong side! i also kept looking out my window whenever we went past something i wanted a second look at, as if there were a rear-view mirror mounted on the side of the bus--i'm used to driving! anyway, it was an odd feeling, everything being flipped around like that.
after Tralee, there was a marked improvement in the quality of the landscape and views to be had from the bus window--more nature, some ruins flashing by, more cows and sheep. moo moo, baa baa. hedges, narrower roads. the real Ireland at last.
the bus dropped me off in Dingle about 3-ish, i guess. i don't really remember. at that point time was moot. i had been awake and in motion for so long that i wasn't registering much. i walked around a bit, sort of aimlessly getting my bearings. finally i decided to get a taxi in to Ballyferriter, where i knew there was a warm and cozy, if slightly expensive room waiting for me, and most importantly, once i got there--i had nowhere further to go!
i managed to get a ride with "Dolphin Taxi" service, and the driver was a pleasant fellow--a local, but i don't remember if i tried the Gaeilge on him (that's the Irish word for the Irish language, for those of you who don't know.) we were at Tigh Bhric in about 10 minutes. it was during this ride that i noticed just how narrow the roads on the Dingle peninsula are--barely room for 2 cars to pass, much less for 2 tour buses. and the cars are quite small in the green land, i have to point out!
we zipped around a bend and bang! there was Tigh Bhric. a pleasant, multi-colored building which contains a pub, a restaurant, B+B accommodations, a small food and off-license shop, and a really fine restaurant. The bean an tí, or woman of the house--Adrian (hope i spelled that right!) is not only a fine person but a fine artist as well--her sculptures, mostly metal abstracted interpretations of the human figure and the landscape or buildings and the like, are to be seen throughout the main dining room and pub, as well as the entrance to the lodgings. The fear an tí, or man of the house, Pól Ó Bric, is the one with the Irish, and the excellent suggestions for warm whiskey drinks on days on which you've been caught by the rain while riding your bicycle. both of them work tirelessly to make sure everyone is well taken care of. i was glad to be staying at the place for so long--9 nights altogether--because it gave me a chance to get to know those two a little more than the average guest probably would. Adrian insists that she's an old crank, but i swear to you she's not--she's brilliant, and loves a good conversation about art--particularly her own! 
anyway, back to the account. i put my things in my room after checking in, and unpacked a bit. i felt restless, as if i should not be wasting time sitting in my room watching TV because after all i travelled a long long way to get to Ireland i damn well better get off my ass and see some of it! dinner wasn't to be served till half 6 anyhow, so i decided to have a pint and take a walk into Ballyferiter. i wanted to see the town and get a sense of how long it would take to walk to my morning classes during the next week. i had my pint out on the patio behind the pub. there was an incredible view of the surrounding fields and the distant hills and there were peacefuly grazing horses 20 feet from where i was sitting. absolutely beautiful.
oh. my. god. i LOVE drinking GUINNESS in Ireland!
thus bolstered by my first real Irish Guinness, i set out for Ballyferiter to find out just what sort of town i was to take my course in.
it wasn't far. a mile or so. took me 20 minutes to get there, maybe 25 as i was stopping and taking pictures of the part of Smerwick harbour i could see to my right--that being north. three small mountains--hills really, dominated most of the views i saw during my entire trip, as i ended up renting a bike and didn't really travel too far from Ballyferriter. "The three sisters" is the name given to these three hills collectively. They are also called Binn Hanraí, an Bhinn Meánach, and Binn Diarmada. there's a story behind why they are called the three sisters. but i don't know it. time for a little research... another view i often found before me was that of Sibyl Point, or Ceann Sibéal, which is very near the three sisters.
i walked into the town of Ballyferriter itself. on the way noticing the brightly colored Fuscia and another crazy orange flowering plant that grow commonly on the hedges in the area.. in the town itself there's really not much but 6 or 7 pubs, most of which offer accommodation as well as food. there's a hotel. there WAS a post office. trouble is it was closed due to the recent death of the postman. go raibh a anam ar thaobh dheis Dé. that made it a bit harder to get stamps and money, as the office had the only ATM in the village! there's a wee food shop, but honestly the one at Tigh Bhric was much better at 1/10th the size. Ballyferrriter is also home to the Dingle Peninsula Heritage, or an Oidhreacht Chorca Dhuibhne, an organisation that promotes the culture and heritage of the peninsula through events such as the course that i was in Ireland to take. they particularly promote the Irish language, especially the local dialect. there is a museum in the village associated with the organization which houses some of the archaeological artifacts found on the peninsula, as well as the local history and legends. There is a handy little bookshop and cafe there as well.
but this particular visit i was not aware of any of these fine features of the village--i was there to take pictures and get another pint!
after the pint i was pretty spent. back to the B+B with me, where i basically waited an hour or so before going to bed, because i didn't want to be waking up at 6 in the morning the next day. i had a tentative plan to go into Dingle town somehow--maybe i'd hitchhike, maybe i'd get a taxi--i wasn't sure. all i was sure of was that i was going to sleep very well that night and wake up the next day to get this rip fully underway!
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