Barb stopped having fun. You can see all the fun twists and turns that we had just been through down in the valley.
It was on the ring of Beara drive that Barb decided that her love of Irish driving had it's limits. True, she had found the unbelievably narrow roads with no shoulders nerve racking (and the accompanying 100 kph speed limits hilarious). However, the 100 kph, narrow road with no shoulder climb to one of the highest mountain passes in the rain was no fun at all. The barrier to going over the edge was a curb of stone about 10 inches high. Not a confidence inspiring sight. Me? I'm a fatalist so I took pictures and offered words of encouragement. I offered to drive, but the thought of being a passenger with a side-on view of the abyss was even more upsetting. I got lots of pictures but none of them are of Barb smiling.
We did get to see some beautiful towns and the rural Ireland that everyone talks about. In small towns like Castletownbere, the length of time it takes to pour a pint (about three minutes) is the time that you'll be asked where you're from, why you're here and how you're doing. Not that it's nosy, you are just being invited into the conversation taking place around the bar. If you sit at a table, everyone will leave you alone. Thinking back on it now, I wish we had known that from the beginning, we would have spent a lot more time at the bar in conversation.
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