Camp week has finished. A wonderful time, and stories for another day.
Sunday, I found myself back in Galway with the American camp counselors and Darren the Dubliner. The afternoon was spent mostly wandering looking for somewhere to eat, and then an adventure at a castle near Oughterard before a very late dinner at the excellent Powers Thatched Pub. Eat here. The food is incredible.
Monday, we awoke and headed into Galway town. The other Americans had not seen it, so a tour of the Latin Quarter, Eyre Square, and the Claddagh commenced.
A road trip next, through County Clare. Narrow country roads fenced by hedges and stone walls, stretching on for miles as the landscape bends with the Atlantic ocean. Laughter as the other Americans decide Darren and I should star in a bank heist movie together. Then, we pass an alpaca farm, and Darren slams on the brakes. "Alpacas! I've never seen them in real life!" We stop and spend twenty minutes with the herd. A Frenchman and his two children, Charles and Marguerite, join us. Little Marguerite, undaunted, runs to the alpacas and attempts to feed them. They remain cautiously curious.
Onwards we go, to the Cliffs of Moher. Our resident Dubliner chides us for incorrectly pronouncing the Cliffs as More. "It's Mo-HER, lads!"
An unusually sunny yet predictably windy day greets us at the top of the cliffs. Grateful for the sunshine and powerful winds, we wander slowly along the cliffs, stopping to lay in the grass or photograph another amazing perspective, different enough from the one provided just a few hundred feet before.
Too soon, we must be on our way. Our journey ends at the bus station in Ennis, from which I head south to begin my next journey in County Kerry. A heartfelt farewell, complete with car horn honking and excited waving out passenger windows, pushes my fellow travelers back to Galway and then to Dublin for their final two days in this wonderful country.
The adventure continues, and God gives abundant gifts.