Ending Dublin on a high note, we headed out in the am back to our non-humble abode in Adare Village. Upon returning Triple A and I ventured out to explore the grounds. We stumbled upon a clear view of some sort of ruins across the river. When we asked, the elderly local man walking by informed us it was the ruins of Desmond castle, and that if we hopped the locked gate down the road we could enter the golf course and explore both the castle ruins and an old abbey we hadn’t yet heard about.
Oh boy, did we explore. It was smack dab in the middle of the golf course. I mean, I don’t golf, but if I did, I would want to do it amidst the ruins of a 16th-century (or something around then) abbey.
Oh, and you can’t forget the spooky cemetery we stumbled into and over.
We ended the evening in a pub, leisurely enjoying a pint and the Sunday paper. The lifestyle section had an interesting article I thought our Francais Fille might enjoy so I decided that since Sunday was almost over, I would bring it home as a souvenir. I stuck it in my jacket and we got up to leave. We were near the door when a nice lil’ family sitting near us shouted to tell us that we had forgotten our camera. Oh boy! You can imagine the relief I expressed; you can also imagine the shame I felt that the Adare locals were nice enough to make sure I didn’t leave my $500 camera behind, all the while I was stealing a newspaper.
What a bloody New Yorker I was being.
(Course I still took the paper.)