Ireland is beautiful

     Learning old Greek is easier than understanding what half the people on this island are saying.   How can a language be so distorted and still be called English? And when the Irish speak fast, I am absolutely clueless as to what they are saying.  They can understand me perfectly, so what's the rub?

        Slept late, the owner of the B&B/hostel cooked me a delicious breakfast.  Leaving Sherkin Island was not something I really wanted to do.  A week here would have been more like it; the place is idyllic.  Quiet, small, totally undeveloped and not a tourist in site. Need some down time?  Try this place, you will be writing poetry before you leave.  

    While waiting for the ferry I met a person with a good size van who gave me a lift back to Skibbereen, where I turned off for Baltimore.  I didn't feel like riding over the same road twice.  The road to Mizen Head only had a few rough hills but nothing serious.  Once again the scenery was fantastic.  While taking a picture on the island, I looked over my shoulder to find a horse about five feet away from me separated by a wire fence. Surprised me a bit.  We communed for a while he let me rub his head.   Anyways, there are so many breathless sites, it is hard to decided when to stop taking pictures.

      I found a campsite near The Mizen Head lighthouse, set up my digs and headed off to check the lighthouse out.  It is nothing special but located on a cliff several hundred feet above the water.  Within eyesight I could also see the fastener lighthouse several miles off shore. Now that is an amazing structure, it's engineering  easily rivals the Race rock lighthouse off Fishers 

Island.  On my way back to the campsite I stopped off at a nice hotel and restaurant where I had dinner and a few IPAs. I shot the breeze with two guys who had their own businesses, one of which retired at fifty-four.  The other guy, John, gave me lift back to my site.

     Tomorrow I ride to Bantry and perhaps beyond.