Aran was spectacular, beautiful and so, so quiet. With few people and even fewer cars it is as far away from the hustle and bustle of Dublin as one can go. The people were lovely and our accomadations, right on the pier, afforded us a sea view every morning. Due to our missing the first train, catching the later one and almost missing the ferry, we only spent one full day on the island, but we made the most of it. We set off in the early morning (about 10 a.m.) and started walking towards Dun Angeus (sp?) an ancient half-ring fort on the top of mile-high cliffs on the edge of Inishmor. We bought a map and asked directions, but the both of us underestimated the actual length of the island. As it neared the second hour of walking (in my shotty converse no less) I realized my afternoon walks with Sara and Quickie were no match for the winding and rock strewn roads of Aran. The sun at our backs and a nice bluster in our faces Niall acted unfazed by our seemingly endless journey. After three hours I started to become concerned as niether our destination or an form of transport back to the b&B was apparent. I started to think I was hallucunating as the surroundings started to take on a more surreal feel.
First, there were the min-marathoners, who would walk/run by us one by one at first and then in twos and threes. Each one gave a poliet hi as we tried to figure out why some looked so destroyed and others were practically hoping around, we made jokes that we should get a certificate for finishing the race as well. Then a rather large man on an adult sized trike passed us, the wig he was wearing and the reddish hue of his wind-blown skin made him look clown like, he was speaking to some runners as we started to hear the swirl of bike wheels and whoosh, before we knew a steady stream of young children, 12 years-old or so, were whizzing past us, first 10 then 15, 20 30, 40, we lost count. We caught strange bits of conversations, french accents, I remember cows mooing in the background, there was the hub-bub of talk between the triking man and his running colleagues and Niall turned to me and said that he felt he was in an episode of Father Ted. Two seconds later he amended that to include a Fellini movie and I was left to ponder what exactly the film would be called.
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Well, I couldn't resist. I thought I might make myself wait a full week to get over you, Rachel, but I couldn't help myself and logged in this morning to see what you've been up to while living the traveler's life. :o) I'm going to live vicariously through you and your adventures for the next few days at least, so keep writing. Your entries have been good reads, even though I have no idea what a "Father Ted" is. LOL. I can't believe I'm the first person to comment on your blog! It's Monday and I'm procrastinating. :o) One bit of news...Kotz had to be rushed to the hospital over the weekend, while he was in Chicago for a wedding. Turns out he had several bleeding ulcers. Go figure. He's ok now, but still recuperating in the windy city. The Shaws are in Peru and loving it already. That is all the news on this front.
I am so happy I made it into your blog!! Had we known what you were training for, we definitely would have had to amp up our walks. Speaking of, you'll be happy to know that our little pregnant jay walker has gotten much more cautious as she grows more pregnant. Also much slower but who can blame her! It sounds like you're really enjoying all parts of your trip, i'm so happy for you. I hope your not too worried about having not gotten into that program, the best things happen when you aren't expecting them. I agree with you, it has to be for the best. We definitely miss you around here. Sara and I were passing by Tates the other day and she was wondering what the owner's last name is and I said "well too bad Rachel's not here because she once told us that that lady used to babysitt her brother, etc. So she would definitely know...". Anyways, hope you continue to have a great trip!
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