Christmas in Killarney

Brief rant: Rick Steves has no soul. His guide book rags on Killarney and declares Kenmare the place to be. The Rawls sisters tend to disagree. The Road to Killarney As we packed up our rental car at Ashford Castle, I asked Meagan, why she thought everyone got this huge grin on their face when they asked where we were headed to next and we answered "Killarney". Did they know something we didn't? Yes. As we approached Limerick, we had the fun chance to drive under the Shannon River. It was anticlimactic with just a long tunnel, but I did scream "I feel the need for speed!!" when we started down through the lighted tunnel (meagan nervously laughed). But as we came out through the other side and the road narrowed to the one lane we've come to love, we made our way through the winding hillside that lead us to the foothills of larger mountains than we're used to (not exactly tall enough to be snowcapped but taller than any we see in the midwest). As we drove the pastures grew greener, the sheep seemed to multiply and the blue sky lighted ahead of us-a welcome change from the rain we had in Galway. As we drove up through the first small mountain, our eyes grew bigger and our mouths dropped in awe. The sunlight danced through the clouds and glittered as it hit the thatched roofs of the houses. The ribbons of sunshine that broke through the white puffy clouds highlighted parts of the countryside as if to say, 'look over here'. Never had we expected such beautiful scenery. We knew why the people from the castle smiled. This place was magical. We wound through the lane with tall rock walls and made our way though the little villages like Adare-which we made note of to visit on our way back to Limerick on Tuesday. We most certainly will drag our feet when we have to leave this place. We arrived in Killarney to the Christmas music of the Pogues. They seem to really really like the Pogues. God bless!