Wild Wicklow

I signed up for a day tour called the "Wild Wicklow Tour", a guided coach & walking tour of County Wicklow in Ireland. I thought it was just a clever name. As I pulled my sweaty, exhausted heap of self into my bunk many hours later, I reflected through my massive grin that it had truly lived up to its name. Well.. perhaps that story's a bit longer.
The tour itself was really good - our hilarious Irish guide, Michael, gave us a side-splitting but also quite informative tour of the countryside, a number of notable glacial lakes & cliff trails, and an old Celtic monastery & graveyard. It is amazing how much blood has been soaked up by Ireland's fair hillsides, but equally impressive are the tales of her survival & perseverance.
I have refrained from posting more pictures of the countryside, because they can hardly do it justice. It is nearly impossible to capture the array of color that paints the Irish forest - Johnny Cash put it quite succinctly when he remarked from an airplane over Ireland that there must be forty different shades of green down there.
To return to the allusion I made at the beginning of this entry, all I will write here is that I met some Australians on the coach who I went out with that night, and I will state for the official record that Auzzies are all right in my book.
Now I'm off to do something with myself for the day - as luck would have it, my insomnia has returned with a vengeance, so an attempted nap may be in order.
The moral of this post is, if you get a chance, come to Dublin.