Day 3: Over the Cliff

Nearly every person I've met here would like to help me but can't. Here is a typical conversation I have had with no less than three bus drivers:

Me: Can you tell me where your left hand is?

They: Eh, me what, now you be saying, now?

Me: Your leffft haaanddd. Left hand. Left.

They: Well now, I don't rightly know, exactly. You'll be looking for Rathhamfordshire. It's a bit up onthemiddleofturnmumblemumbleoverandall that after donderson lingle.

Me: Not Rathhamfordshire. Your hand. Where is your left hand? Hand? You know (waving hand) your hand?

They: Capford is after Terenure be going right up that. Where you be wanting to go in there? Are you going to the Donderson lingle in there now?

Me: No! Your hand! Hand!

They: I don't know about the lingle. Hey Paddy (yelling behind him), 'taint lingle on t'other side of the tree behind the bridge by the mickey?

Paddy: Oh rightly now I believe it's so.

They: Fantastic, That's just the thing I be wantin'. How's old Cork castle doing now?

Me: ???

Fear the friendly Irish. They speak fifteen syllables when one will do, and, as often as not, none of them are of much help.

This morning's outing was to the coast. It took a dozen different people to finally settle on someplace nice on the coast that could be reached by a bus ticket, which I had already paid for (everyone always first suggests the DART trolley). That place was Howth.

Howth is a little fishing village similar to Whitby in Yorkshire. Howth is on a peninsula and connected to other parts of the coastline with a walking trail along a cliff (more of a steep hill, really). I exited the last bus stop and walked along the cliff (about an hour) back down to Howth. There's not much to do in Howth other then hike the trail, buy fish, or eat at a fish restaurant. A promising looking used bookstore and a farmer's market were both closed today, open only on the weekends.

A lovely walk. Not jaw-dropping: standard purple and yellow hardy flower on bushes sprinkled amid green, cream, and brown hills, under blue, gray, and white skies. Cliffs that are serviceable, but not spectacular or really approachable by foot.

That's looking down at a 70 degree decline

Now I'm home to rest before shabbat starts. Shabbat shalom.

Yehuda