The departure from Galway could have been more emotional. It probably should have been because I really loved the city. Unfortunately I am not a morning person. The emotions of the events went right over my head as I sluggishly made my way to the bus, into a seat and back to sleep. I awoke two hours later to people getting off of the bus. We were being forced off of the bus to go see the decaying ruins of a monastery and graveyard in the middle of nowhere. Why? Because it is old of course! The thing about old stuff is that after a few pictures the moment has been captured and it is time to move on into the future. Alas, we had two hours to kill.
So Sam, Stewart and I entertained ourselves. First we met a dog that I named Lex. He was really friendly, too friendly. Lex followed us back to the ruins and began harassing the tourists. In retrospect this was pretty funny, at the time we were wondering if this dog would ever make it home. Oh well. Next we found some cows. Sam and Stewart dared me to touch the only bull in the pasture. I attempted it. I got the closest I have ever been to a bull (photographic evidence coming) but I did not actually touch it. The horns were pretty intimidating. And we still had some time to kill. Eventually we made it back to the bus and went to Dublin. The moral of the story? When life gives you too much time, kill it with some good friends.
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