Cork, Ireland

The last night in London was like a comedy.  Dodging undesirables, witnessing trip love disintegrate, and peeing at Buckingham Palace in the middle of the night are like the pieces to a play.  Hmm..maybe I should remove the late night breaking of the law. Nahhh...

After surviving a scene right out of 24, Mirreille, Mike and I ventured off into the darkness of London.  Ahhh, places look so much better without crowds. Finding ourselves at the palace, Mike's bladder makes a call and well, there aren't any porta potties available. What's a guy to do when London is rioting and cops are zooming by every few minutes and he has to pee? You know it.  Somewhere by the north lawn Mike left his mark on Royalty. 

I am en route to Ireland now. The group has disbanded.  Some stayed in London a few days, others are en route home. I, well, I am trying to remember that the white line needs to be on my right when I start driving. 

Ireland. I added this little gem about 3 weeks before leaving on my trip. I truly had no clue where in the country I would go except I didn't want to do the usual Dublin stop everyone seems to make. It seems that my desires were answered when friends of friends pointed me in the direction of the south. And so here I was, flying to Cork, renting a car and exploring. 

Independence. It's such a strong and powerful word and at the same time it does such a great job of masking things. Independent. Strong. Able. Then why am I freaking out over this driving thing?! 

As we descend, the clouds hint as to  why Ireland is so green. Lovely.  Rain and driving on the wrong side of the road. No stress here. Nope, none at all.  

Ugh! What did I sign up for? I am now in the comfort and safety of my hotel room after getting lost for over an hour and fighting with 12 or so roundabouts. Ireland and I are not friends. Bloody hell.  I found Cork but couldn't find my hotel. Found how to go the wrong way on a one way street and definitely figured out where street names may be posted - but are not. The right is the passing lane and fast is fast. So far, I'm glad I haven't stopped at a pub but I'm thankful for the one downstairs.  

Oh, sure, I could have asked for a GPS but, yeah, when you usually don't get lost a certain level of cockiness fills you and...  I guess the "I can do this" male side of me kicked in.  Now, laying under covers and in the fetal position, Im rethinking the whole journey.  Friggin' roundabouts! Just kidding.  Deep breath. You just need sleep.