That’s right Princess Bride fans, though I suffered a night of nearly no sleep, today I visited the Cliffs of Moher, aka Cliffs of Insanity. And they were indeed insane, though a nearby cow could not be bothered.
Moooove along the path for this crazy view.
Look out across the ocean while you’re at it. If you travel out to sea, the next stop is Boston.
Before this sight greeted me, though, I had quite a bus ride from Dublin.
It was already scheduled to be a 3.5 hour drive (one way), made longer by the dogged efforts of a young man to secure a promise of drinks from me (doomed to fail). Made longer still by the fact that the bus left four of the passengers at the midway pit stop (Barack Obama Plaza of all places) and the guide didn’t realize it until 40 minutes later. We had to double back. This extra time was used by my seat mate to innumerate his qualities and re-articulate his case, press against me, and deliver the “I can tell you have a beautiful heart” line that must be on page one of the International Book of What to Say to American Women When the Situation Goes a Bit South brochure for all the times I’ve heard it on this trip. He watched me start to eat a sandwich and it was uncomfortable even for the tomato. I had to stash the food away and starve. He said he could read my palm and I had to lie and say that stuff isn’t real because I knew if he took my hand I would have to stab myself in the nostrils. He said he had no money but money isn’t everything. I am not sure how he intended on buying drinks but did not point out this logistical flaw because clearly he couldn’t understand simple no thankses, no matter how many times or how many differing inflections they were delivered. If they hadn’t already been dubbed the Cliffs of Insanity, they would have been after that bus to crazy town.
No means no, people.
There is a tower overlooking one of the cliff edges. I didn’t go in but a lot of kids were running around like it was a big deal. I did consider hiding in there but didn’t want to be trapped yet again by this force-dater.
Another tourist and I got to talking and she said that about eight people per year slip over the edge because they took a misstep while posing for a selfie.
This picture could have been a KILLER. Crazy town danger zone, today was. My determined seat mate continued his monologue on the return ride until I put in ear buds, pulled up my hood, and crossed my arms over my chest. He promptly fell asleep with his arms and legs all akimbo in my space. Convenient. Let’s just say my disembarkation from this bus was swift and spirited.
Tomorrow: hiding from the world.
paralyzedbynotcaring 