Ireland Redux VII: Wicklow

The time came to leave Navan.  We filled up on breakfast, carefully reviewed driving directions to our next destination, and set out mid-morning.  I think it was about this time I let music be played in the car; until now I thought that silence would be the best way to navigate the roads (not that it was ever silent with my sister's running commentary on my driving skills).  Well, the addition of music (from my own mix tapes) actually served to calm me.  I kind of wish I had figured that out sooner.

Wicklow was next on our to-do list.  We both really looked forward to Wicklow because our B&B was supposed to be grand, with rooms that opened to the outside, like our own little flat, and was attached to a really nice restaurant.  There were also the Wicklow Mountains and cliff walks which, thinking we were closer to the coast, I thought meant sea cliffs.  I was wrong, but it was still something to behold.

The 90 minute drive seemed to go by remarkably fast.  We had to stop for petrol, especially since those mountain roads just suck it up, and I was glad I only had to fill up the tank once during our vacation as it cost a pretty penny, even with my small Accent.  

Sure, the roads got narrower and curvier, and my grip on the wheel got tighter, but the sight of the mountains just made me happy.  We passed numerous overlooks and I got so frustrated with myself for not stopping, so when my sister murmured something about how cool a sight was we were passing, I wrenched the wheel over and crossed a lane of traffic to park on the side of the road, which understandably freaked her out.  But still...

 And really...

 This was the place to be for the views, absolutely.  And remarkably, we found the restaurant attached to the B&B with little trouble.  

However, they checked us in, then sent us back to our car to follow a server one mile down the road to our B&B, which was unexpected.  Walking these mountain roads, while likely very common, as is cycling, didn't sit well with my sister and I, which meant we would be driving every where.  Of course, we should have been over the driving issue by now...

The B&B, Trooperstown, is a beautiful house and brand spanking new.  The lawn was still being landscaped, and there was still some finishing touches to be had inside.  We had issues with the keys, both to the house and to our room (which was upstairs and did not have its own entrance, after all), and felt foolish for all the number of times we asked our hostess (who rushed back and forth between the two B&Bs that fall under the restaurant ownership, called the Wicklow Heather), to help us.  I think we might have gotten the hang of it by the fifth or sixth time.

 We enjoyed the coffee and tea room and spent some time looking at the literature there on things to do in the area.  It was at this time that I realized the cliff walks referred to mountain trails in Wicklow National Park.  I made a mental note of a few trails I'd like to try, then studied the road map I finally cracked open more than halfway through the week.  I saw that Wicklow town wasn't far, so we made plans to visit that day and take the trail walk the next day.

After another successful drive, we pulled into a Park and Pay and wandered the busy town.  

It was pizza for us for dinner that evening and a pint at a pub down the road.  Again, no one in the pub, although the lounge and beer garden had a few more patrons.  There was one gentleman, however, who eagerly told us all about his neck of the woods and made a few suggestions about places to visit.  It really made me wish we had more than just two days there.  

As we were driving back to Trooperstown, it was in the rear view mirror that we saw the Irish Sea and had no chance to photograph it or visit it.  

Damn.