09.15am. Still no sign of our driver. He was supposed to pick us up from our B&B twenty minutes ago, but there’s no rush; the morning is fresh, blue-skied and quiet, and we’re not quite ready to be thrown around the back of a minibus so soon after yet another textbook full Irish.
My Dad and I are in Galway, Ireland, for the third day of our cross-country trip. Dublin had been predictably pub-imposed, culminating in a visit to the capital’s glitzy Guinness Storehouse. Galway, up to now, had charmed us with its vibrant Latin Quarter, picturesque bay and warmth of its people. Somehow, the Guinness was better too. This was shaping up to be some trip.
Joash Taylor, Cheeky Jaunt
