Caed Mille Failte

I went to Ireland this weekend.

Where are the pictures, you ask?

They're on my camera, which was stolen - brazenly - right off the table at the Guinness Brewery.

Otherwise, good times were had by all, by which I mean Michelle and myself. Weather was misty and cool - very Irish-like. We took a train out to the quasi-countryside, where thanks to a wrong turn, a brisk one-mile walk to a "scenic lighthouse" turned into a twelve-kilometer death march across some very rugged Irish terrain (at one point we were on the side of a cliff, about 200 feet above the Irish Sea.)

We also played around a little bit with the Irish language, which is extremely unattractive-sounding but fun to look at:

Eisitear an ticead seo faoi na fodlithe, rialachain agus coinniollacha ata sna foilseachain agus fograi a bhaineann leis an g Comhlacht Iarnrod Eireann no ata foilsithe aige.

That means - "this ticket is subject to the bylaws, regulations and conditions contained in the publications and notices of or applicable to Irish Railways Company." I just typed it off my train ticket. Eireann go bragh.