My front yard is jealous.

Wise words from a pub in Dingle

A wee backstory: Because I am sometimes immobilized with procrastination (but very good at list-making), I wrote out all the places I have been but have neglected to write about. As long as the fishes permit me time and brain function, I plan to share a few.

This week, I clicked “Randomize” and “Dingle Town” moved to position #1. I thought, “Well, I just wrote about Ireland last week. I don’t want the other countries to feel unappreciated.” I clicked “Randomize.” Many things changed, but “Dingle Town” remained in first position. I clicked “Randomize” again. “Dingle Town” glowered from #12, but who should I find at #1 but “Sixmilebridge”….Ireland.

Nobody fucks with the Dingle Town.

Ireland town/area names are some of the most abnormally amazing words in the English language. This is usually because they are a vague translation of the Irish (Gaelic) original name. To wit: Ballygawley, Knockatober, Cloonmacduff, Muff, Ballymagrorty, Figary, Tralee, Frogmore, Gortadoo, Riverstick…

And then there is Dingle. Second only to Ballygawley, Dingle is my favorite to say. Dingledingledingledingledingledingledingle. See? It also happens to be a very beautiful and friendly little town where I took some pictures, drank some beer and attempted to learn Irish dancing from a charming young man (who, no doubt, immediately regretted his offer).

Driving toward your destination, you sometimes have to stop at the side of the road because you find a field breathtaking (and then you realize, you are an old person).

There are all sorts of ruins strewn about cow and sheep pastures in this country. Perhaps this used to be a grain silo, but I prefer to think they were all castles.

Dingle Town arrival!

Yes – I think we established that.

A time transportation vortex outside a church.

Or maybe that’s this thing. I’ve never seen a thatched teepee at a church before. Priest time out? New age confession booth?

Nuns

Hello residents. I’m just creeping through your windows.

 

Seafood traps, totes, nets and buoys. I’m at home!

Good night, Dingle Town. Now let’s get rowdy.

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