Ireland

The Blasket Islands are a scenic half hour drive from Dingle and gobbsmackingly gorgeous.

The drive there isn't exactly dull either.

There's something on the planet for everyone, for some it's Vegas but for me it doesn't get any better than this.

Chilly, content and happy.

Even the sea has a Guinnessy head.

Talking of which, "How can we get a pint to go?" asked Giampaolo of the barman. The great thing about Ireland is that the chap didn't miss a beat & pulled a pint into a plastic glass. "But it might spill" said GP and hurried to the car, returning with his solution.

............burrrrp.

But I digress......

.....one last look.

Cheers from Team Ireland,

Ireland.

"Can you see me now Paddy?"!

Tranquil, spacious, soothing, expansive, raw, beautiful, friendly, nourishing & simple.

As they say in Ireland, 'you three are a right pair'!

Main street Castlegregory, population 205.

Jesus, Mary & Jospeh.

In case you lost or forgot yours.

Did I mention we ended up in the pub every night for liquid appetizers?

Ireland

Oly had sent me an e-mail a few days before we left which read “Forecast looks a bit violent at the moment so we will have to see what its like....” Day two saw this prediction come into full fruition as (pre-breakfast) we picked up beers that had been chilling outside, but now lay wind whipped and strewn down the driveway!

The boys optomistically set about putting footstraps on boards but the weather turned bleaker with every turn on the screwdriver. Meanwhile, as it became apparent living room bay window was the place to be, Renata observed "we need some windscreen wipers"and without further ado, became them!

There.....much better. As we all optimistically awaited the weather to clear, there was no need to de-pajama or go anywhere except baggy the best seats in the house. Renata read a German mag, Giampaolo an Italian book.....

....and Oly found "a bit of a crowd pleaser"!

Yet fear not faithful readers, because not only did the sun shine, but the swell pumped and the wind evened out enough for the boys to have a fun afternoon windsurf session.

The decent weather brought everyman and his dog out.

And a small German fraulein with a desire to do headstands.

Better bring in the sheep to manicure this lawn.

Here's some they prepared earlier.

With the unexpected success of the day there was only one way to celebrate, jackets on and beers in, cheers!

Ireland

The rain lashed against our faces & the wind bit at our finger tips as the absurdity of a surf trip to Ireland sank in rapidly. We were five in total, knowing each other from Maui, but all conveening from various parts of Europe to vacation in Kerry. It was maddness personified and the pre-trip promise of comedy value began to quickly wane, as we threw the boards on top of the cars. I for one was sure I'd never-ever-ever going to need them.

And yet, the morning broke with sunshine, surf and undisputable truth that 'Sharon would go'

Wetsuit, anorak, scarf & hat.....I'm ready!

Oh wait, I forgot my gloves.

Goofy long boarder on the left is me :-)

Despite what you may think I had a blast and in my shrink wrap casing, was snug as a bug in a rug. However, as my prone surfing isn't the best in peak conditions, it became quickly apparent that I was sadly out of shape.

Still, happy and pleased with myself I left the others surfing and embarked on removing my wet suit. I might well have been oxygen starved and half way up Everest for the amount of effort that every little movement took. Come to find out, the best technique is to drive home and remove it in the hot shower!

I moooooooned this lot whilst de-neopreneing.

So did these guys as I saw my fare share of tightly clenched white bums this trip, the byproduct of wet skin exposed in crispy air.

It's not called the Emerald Isle for nothing and the grass is norished by all the moisture that helps manufacture some of the greenest cholorphil I've ever seen.

And the best Guinness, in the best pub 'James Ashe' you've ever tasted.