… when I totally went to Ireland? It was pretty cool.
I’ve been dying to tell you about it. Except not really. Which is why I haven’t. Because big trips are a lot for me to process. And my new philosophy in life is “When in doubt, just don’t say anything.” So here I’ve been. Not saying anything.
But I’m not in doubt anymore. Not at all. I have these mad cool photos to show you. Photos of Wicklow (above) and Glendalough (below) and Kilkenny (further below). But we’ll get there… all in due time…
When I went to Glendalough, I found a rock. So I sat on it, duh. You can do more than just sit on rocks, of course. But this rock. It was made for sitting.
Glendalough means glen by two lakes. And sure enough, it totes was.
But wait! There’s more:
Apparently, there’s a wedding scene in Braveheart that was filmed in Glendalough. Apparently…
Glendalough is also home to the ruins of a monastic city. So that was pretty cool.
I have a bizarre obsession with graveyards in general. This one is hard not to be obsessed with.
I can’t figure out why, but I totally dig the half cross left in this.
After Glendalough, we went and saw a really big rock. Because that’s what you do in Ireland. Everyone knows that. And this rock was made for picking up. It’s really big. It set some record for being really big, but I didn’t really remember what record or when, to be honest. I was a little distracted holding it up. But it’s ok. I’ve been working out lately.
After that, we went to Kilkenny. And even though fictional Jenny would never go near Kilkenny, this Jenny found it a darling little town.
If anyone can aid me, it’s my brother in the army,
If I can find his station down in Cork or in Killarney.
And if he’ll come and save me, we’ll go roving near Kilkenny,
And I swear he’ll treat me better than me darling sportling Jenny
The town of Kilkenny was an absolutely magical blend of old and new. The alleyways looked just like this:
And the streets looked just like this:
I stood on the steps of a “proper Irish castle” as all my new Irish friends told me.
When we went to Kilkenny, we met up with our good friend Willie. He’s my buddy.
Dublin City wasn’t too shabby either. I’ll tell you about it another time. But here’s a bit of a spoiler: I went to jail.
You know what they say: “What happens in Dublin stays in Dublin.” Actually, they don’t say that. What they do say is “Dublin does Fridays like Michael D does poems.” And just in case you don’t know who Michael D is, let me tell you.