Sick in Ireland

From my flight into Dublin I wasn't feeling too awesome. On the free shuttle from the airport to I met a nice kiwi who ended up being on my six day southern Ireland trip. It started off nicely. There were many Americans which was good and bad: I understood their accents but most of them were demanding jerks. Sigh. I made good friends with the other solo travelers and we had many silly nights until... the cough.

It started off mild but it got worse as the trip progressed. Cough drops wouldn't hack it anymore. I bought some meds that sort of worked for awhile. Then my new friend started getting sick too. I felt terrible. While on a day trip through the ring of Kerry my symptoms came on strong and my fellow sickmate said she just got some cold/flu capsules and I was welcome to them. I took two after lunch and don't remember much after that because they were a drowsy formula. Ugh. Damn UK labels and brands that I don't understand. I woke up to wander on the lovely sights but I was too doped up to remember anything or even remember to take photos.

The next day was better. I rode a horse named Jasper in an Irish national forest.

After that I ended up going back to the hostel early to get rest. I was a total lame-o especially after I bought this medicine called Exputex. It's an Irish thing moms often give to their babies with the grossest name ever invented. I won't tell you what it does but it did not make for a fun long bus ride.

What will I take away from Ireland? That I was terribly sick for most of it. The views were beautiful. The Irish pub songs are memorable. The dancing men were fantastic. But I think Scotland still holds my heartstrings.