A frenzied layover in our nation’s capital and we arrive on schedule, first thing in the cool Dublin morning, gaping at never-ending squares of green as we taxi past some unphased cows.
We lose a day without really losing a day, but our recovery night at the airport hotel is null and void. We land instead at 8 am and opt to power up the 3-hour drive to the Causeway Hotel instead.
Driving on the "wrong" side of the road is disorienting to say the least, and to our dazed minds, the hotel looks almost magical, a simple black and white structure against the Northern Ireland sky, as close to the famous circular stones as you’re allowed to sleep.
Our triple room #28 awaits us, with its private ground-level terrace a mere feet from grazing cows and sheep.
The cows and sheep are worth the entire flight as far as the kids are concerned. The babbling baby takes one look at those cows and exclaims, excitedly, “mamamama”. If I really needed motivation to lose my remaining baby weight, I've found it.
It’s been more than one long day and night rolled into this frenzied never-ending day, but I’m dying to get out.
The others sleep but I stroller down the rather long trek to the Giant’s Causeway, and my photo dump is as follows:
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