17 Jun 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments

06/17 Cliffs of Moher, Clare Ireland

This world was filled with small narrow roads hidden by hedge groves, secluded lakes, isolated rivers, hills to climb and valleys to explore.  Tracking down a castle, graveyard or whatever we had earmarked on our map of antiquities was like our very own secret treasure hunt.  Then at the end of every one of these little adventures, we found ourselves staring again at a wonderful pint of local ale, in a small pub in the center of whatever it was the center of.  (more…)

17 Jun 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 010 Do these eyes of mine

Do these eyes of mine, seek out in vain, is every single drop of rain, mine to embrace

The face of a child, with illusions of a world set apart, it’s not easy to trace, the lines of my heart

Piece by piece, they fall by my side, as the petals of a rose, slowly gives way to life, so must I

19 Jun 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments

06/19 Ring of Carrie, Ireland

We woke to another picturesque day and it wasn’t till we began driving the Ring of Kerry that we realized it was also a lucky day.  We were heading clockwise, south to north and every possible tourist and circus was traveling in the other direction.  This gave us the ability to stop and enjoy the scenery and not second guess our place in line or force us to let others dictate our pace. (more…)

20 Jun 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments

06/20 Western Ireland

She had circled a small hostel up along the west cost of Northern Ireland in the little travel guide she carried.  It was a gorgeous drive and well worth going out of our way.  I’ll never forget the look on her face when she first saw her hostel.  It was in the middle of nowhere and when the young men came out of the house to greet her, all the sheep ran for the hills.  She had the look of a newborn, clinging to our car as if it was her mother.  (more…)

21 Jun 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments

06/21 Northern Ireland

It was raining a bit and we had a couple of open containers.  The roads were narrow with no extra space to speak about.   I knew if we got stuck behind another logging truck we could be here for weeks.  Once we managed to pass a couple of these trucks we began to make up for some lost time.  Jim began complaining that his bladder couldn’t take much more of this abuse but before I was willing to pull over, I wanted to put enough distance between ourselves and the logging trucks.  (more…)