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We had a sweet apartment in Dublin situated between Fishamble Street and Cow's Lane, street names so awesome I could not choose one over the other. Fortunately, no one asked me to. We had walked everywhere during our stay in the city, but for the rest of the trip I had rented a car so a cab came to take us back to the airport to get it. Our driver, Keith, was another fantastic well of stories. And expletives. I had reserved a car but Keith warned us not to bother with the PoS Picasso. He said we wanted the Ford Galaxy. Sure enough, those were our minivan choices on the lot.

We loaded all our stuff into the van and then sat in the lot for a few long minutes while B looked fruitlessly for reverse. C took over and he remained our driver for about 90% of the trip. He was great! Not to say I wasn't nail-bitingly anxious every minute on the road... We also borrowed a Garmin with the van, which was an enormous help. We drove west on Garmin's directions until we got close to the house, then I had the owner's emailed instructions to find the cottage her great-grandfather had built himself. I thought this would be a cool contrast to our previous place.

It had the best donkeys and pony, that's for sure. When we got inside I realized that I hadn't asked about internet access, though, and V sort of freaked out. There was none. We chatted a little with a guy who was just finishing up a painting job around the back of the house. The flies were killing him. They were some brutal flies. We dropped our bags there and headed back the way we had come.

An hour and a half later we were in Tullamore. A bartender had told B and me about an epic hurling match the week prior—so epic, it seems, that they had decided to repeat it. As we approached O'Connor Park we noticed cars parked along the side of the road, so we did likewise and hoofed it for what seemed like at least a mile. At the stadium we learned that the game was sold out. Oh well, at least we tried, toodle-oo... anyone who knows me knows I am never too sad about missing a sporting event. But no.

From the helpful crowd milling about the closed stadium we learned that it was customary to open the doors at halftime to let everyone waiting in for free. Maybe because the crowd waiting was so big, or maybe because they just felt like it, the powers that were actually let us in well before halftime, about 20 minutes into the game. We watched Kilkenny beat Galway (I took a picture of the scoreboard too soon. Kilkenny got one more point before the game ended.), or the better part of the crowd did while I watched the crowd.


We trekked back to our car and went into Tullamore to look for a grocery store. The grocery store was closed but we did find a video store (!) so V shopped for a movie to watch to compensate for her lack of wifi. She found The Devil Wears Prada and, more importantly, a Five Seconds of Summer CD that is not yet available in the US. With an exponentially happier V we crossed the road to The Captain's House restaurant.

This place was so nice! I liked it right away because I got to sit next to a big aquarium, and then I liked it even more when everyone's food was excellent. We had come in late but no one seemed to be rushing us out the door (We would discover as we traveled that no one would bring a check to your table before you asked for it. Is that an Ireland thing?) and we had a fun dinner before the long drive back to the cottage.

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