10 Things I Will Never do in Ireland
Drink a pint of Guinness: Sorry all you Guinness lovers. I have tried it many times but just can’t stomach the black stuff – although my husband loves it. Give me a Smithwick’s any day.
Cross Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge: Okay, I admit I am chicken. I trekked the whole way to the bridge and absolutely could not set foot on it. I watched my husband be braver than me and I took photos to prove that he did it. Do you think I can Photo Shop my head onto his body? Would anyone believe it?
Climb to the top of Skellig Michael: Yet another place someone without a head for heights cannot do. All the photos look fantastic and I applaud the hearty souls who have made the pilgrimage. Do you think height aversion therapy would help?
Run the Dublin Marathon: I will let the younger, thinner, fitter folks do this one. Besides, I don’t like crowds.
Go for a walk in the countryside at night without a flashlight: I value my life!
Hike to the top of Carrauntuohill: You have to be kidding. I barely made it to the top of Knocknarea and my husband was speechless with amazement for a week. That will have to suffice. (Great views though.)
Camp out in a tent: My idea of camping out is staying at a really bad B&B with no en suite bathroom.
Ride a horse on the beach: I rode a horse through the Gap of Dunloe once and that cured me. A cowgirl, I’m not.
Eat black pudding: Yuck! If you knew what was in it, you probably wouldn’t either.
Kiss the Blarney Stone: Oh, come on. Does anyone believe that silly legend? Evidently! Hoards of tourists climb up hundreds of tiny spiral steps, through claustrophobic passageways to the top of a tower to stand in line, do some gymnastics, hang upside down and kiss a stone that hundreds of others have just kissed. Lysol anyone?