Sunday

Writing on Monday morn. It was a day of many views bracketed between Sunday Mass in an old small church with pews that moved and were barely deep enough to perch on, with parishioners all wearing their coats because it was cold inside. (Mass was the mostly the same except the homily was before the readings, which really helped in the prayerful contemplation of them, and the "kyries" being in Gaelic.) And Ashford Castle which is very pretentious.

Along the way we made an unplanned side trip to Joyce's Connemara marble shop where they had the most interesting signs. Stopped for lunch in a pub and saw a picture of the Croke Stadium, we were in the hotel across the street from it the first night, with 79,500 people in it!