Galway itself is not a particularly interesting town, unless you're a big fan of wool scarves and shamrock shot glasses. But, the Salmon Weir hostel was a rockin' place. Drawn into the warmth of the tiny common room, I quickly met several new friends (a rambunctious mixture of Aussies, Kiwis, Canadians, French, Spaniards, Germans, Irish, and Americans). Together we pubbed, played guitar, watched White Men Can't Jump, and had lots of craic (the Irish word for fun). We saw Alicia Silverstone in an outdoor mall with a big ugly flower hat. Made fun of her. She was short.

Went to mass at "Our Lady Who Ascended To Heaven and Saint John" Cathedral. Then took a bus tour of the Cliffs of Moher (1), and decided the Irish countryside (2) is a color of green (3) you can't truly capture photographically. Sleepy from my cranberry-laced stout and merriment the night before, and anemic from a general lack of healthy food, I dozed for much of the bus ride.

Next: London is kewl . . .