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We were still looking for an appropriate spot for Happy Hour.  We were vaguely following the River Shannon in hopes of finding a nice picnic spot with a view of the water, but sadly to no avail.  Eventually, when hunger got the best of us, we stopped at a layby overlooking Mongan Bog, a huge peat field stretching into the distance.  We had brought some homemade chutney from our B&B that morning, and had stopped at a shop for bread, cheese, crackers and wine.  Thus supplied, we enjoyed a mellow mood and a lovely meal!      Continuing on, we passed the Lough Ree, a huge inland lake.  We were in search of Rindown Castle , which was shown on our atlas map to be right on the shore of the Lough.  We saw a signpost for it pointing down a country lane; after several winding miles we came to a driveway leading into a farm.  Still following the signposts, we went up the drive, past the farmhouse where the family was having dinner, and out into a cow pasture.  We wandered around aimlessly for a while, driving Christine through the pastures, but could find no trace of Rindown Castle in the fading dusk.  After searching through several private gateways and trespassing shamelessly, we admitted defeat and headed back to the main road.  Perhaps we would try again in the morning!      Christine continued to make her presence felt.  For instance, if you didn’t fasten your seatbelt immediately upon sitting down, a loud warning beep would start up.  If you didn’t take the hint right away, the car would continue to beep with increasing urgency and volume.  This was not normally a problem, as we DO use our seatbelts, but sometimes you just want to sit down in the car for a minute to read a map, or maybe cross a field to the next gateway without buckling up.  This was not allowed!  Once we decided to experiment and see how long the beeping would continue if we drove without fastening the seatbelts; after several minutes the decibels reached such ear-splitting levels that we were sure the seat ejection button would be the next step, so we surrendered.      By this point it was nearly dark, and high time to find lodging for the night.  We like to follow our noses and explore, booking a room wherever we end up for the night, without a definite itinerary or advance planning, and this was the policy we used on this trip.  Along about suppertime, we would pull out the map and the B&B guide, figure out where we were, and phone to reserve rooms for the night.  We ended up staying at the Lough Ree B&B, a nice home with a view of the water.      After we checked in we went for a drive down to the Lough, and at around ten thirty we ended up at Galey Bay .  It was very pretty and very quiet; we watched the swans on the water in the gathering darkness.  We explored what was left of Galey Castle ; it was the remains of an old ruin covered by an ivy tree.      The next morning we decided not to backtrack for another attempt to find Rindown Castle , but instead headed north and west.  We had a slight delay setting out while Jineen searched for her missing toothbrush; it had been hidden under her bed while we were at breakfast, presumably by leprechauns.        Before long we came to Roscommon, and found ourselves at Roscommon Castle , a lovely big ruin on the outskirts of town.  It was built in 1269, and had a large grassy courtyard in the center, with the castle walls still remaining on all four corners.  We were able to walk around in the ruin and explore the lower chambers, now open to the air as the roof and many of the walls were gone.  Jineen climbed over a barred gateway that led to a passageway and a set of stairs; it had sharp metal spikes on the top. Jineen is a prisoner in Roscommon Castle       Continuing north towards Tulsk, we came upon the Ballintober Castle , built in the 1290s.  It was a really good ruin with a right proper boggy moat.  We climbed in under the barbed wire fence that surrounded it, trying to pretend we weren’t trespassing.  There were signs saying ‘Keep Out’, but somehow we always felt that if we avoided breeching the fence right by the sign, then if we were caught at least we could try and use the feeble excuse of not seeing the sign . . .      We continued on north and west, through Tobercurry, and west over the Ox Mountains to Ballina.  We stopped for lunch at a pub called The Bard; we enjoyed some great seafood chowder.  There was a television set at the bar; as the Tour de France was going on we tried to find out how Lance was doing, but the Irish didn’t seem to be too interested in cycling.  But we did get to watch Tiger Woods winning the British Open!  While in Ballina, we also took the opportunity to shop for our next happy hour, and to get some soft-serve ice-cream that Jineen had been craving.      We continued north to Killala Bay , where we visited the Rosserk Abbey.  This was the remains of a lovely abbey founded in 1460; it sat right by the edge of the water.       A bit further on, we found the Moyne Abbey.  The route to it involved hiking across a cow pasture; we stopped and visited with the cows and calves.  Several of the calves were quite young, and Patty in particular seemed to have the ability to develop a close relationship with them.  The Abbey was quite beautiful; we were able to explore the rooms (called cloisters) and go up the staircases to check out the upper floors. Moyne Abbey      As we drove on towards Ballycastle, Christine continued to exert her influence.  The windows would go up and down on their own accord, and as the clouds loomed on the horizon and rain showers came intermittently, Christine appeared to have total control over the use of the windshield wipers.  She would also occasionally emit a high-pitched beep of warning, but we were totally clueless as to what she might be signaling.      Reaching the coastline, we were making for a place called Downpatrick Head, a small peninsula that jutted out into the Atlantic .  After consulting our map, we followed the country byways that seemed to head in the correct direction; but soon we were disoriented and lost.  We asked directions of two cows we encountered standing in a pasture, but they gave us no helpful answer; perhaps they didn’t know the way themselves.  (Do you notice our inclination toward anthropomorphistic tendencies?)      Presently we found our way out to Downpatrick Head, despite the unhelpfulness of our bovine acquaintances.  It was a narrow point jutting out into the Atlantic Ocean ; a grassy ledge overtop rocky striations.  The weather was overcast now; it was very grey and very windy.  It was an incredibly beautiful spot, somewhat wild, with a feeling of ancient magic.  We had our Happy Hour there; we drank Chilean wine and watched the rain clouds in the distance. Downpatrick Head      We walked out onto the rocks of the very edge of this green country, picking our way through the crevices and watching the waves crash upon the shore.  The wind whipped in our faces as we watched the stormclouds move across the water.  There was a sense of timelessness to this spot, of ancient magic and mysticism.       Standing there, I was reminded of the words of the haunting Garth Brooks song ‘ Ireland .’ They say mother earth is breathing With each wave that finds the shore Her soul rises in the evening For to open twilights door Her eyes are the stars in heaven Watching o'er us all the while And her heart it is in Ireland Deep within the Emerald Isle Ireland I’m coming home I can see your rolling fields of green And fences made of stone I am reaching out, won't you take my hand I'm coming home, Ireland      Suddenly we realized that the rainclouds were no longer so distant; the heavens opened and it started to pour, and we were soaked to the skin by the time we made it back to the car.      When we went to leave and started to back the car away from the edge of the cliff, Christine showed us another example of her mechanical genius.  When in reverse she would beep loudly and insistently if she thought something was behind her; apparently she had some way to sense obstacles in her path.  But I think she also used this as an excuse; she balked and beeped despite the fact that there was nothing in her way.  She seemed in general unwilling to go backwards.       We followed the road along the Atlantic coast.  The scenery was awesome.  We passed peat bogs and fields of rock that reminded us of Connemara .  Sheets of rain slanted down from dark clouds amid random rays of sunshine.        We stopped at a lookout point near Ceide Fields; we stood on the cliff and looked out over the water.  We saw a fabulous double rainbow; it was not just in the sky but continued also into the water below us, making three quarters of a circle.   Rainbow at Ceide Fields      As nightfall approached, we drove out towards the western edge of the peninsula.  The wind was still strong and the rain came intermittently.  Christine’s wipers had plenty of opportunity to show their initiative.  Presently we came to the town of Doohooma , where we booked in to the Sea Rod Inn.  It was at the far end of town, overlooking the sea.  Christine played more games with us, proving how she could lock and unlock herself at a whim.  By now it was late, and we were cold and wet; we enjoyed a nice dinner of hot soup and salmon at the Inn .      We were quite tired and looking forward to a hot shower and bed.  Unfortunately, when we went to our rooms we found there was no hot water.  Another interesting feature to the rooms was that although there were lamps on the bedside tables, they had no switches; we never were able to discover how to turn these lights on!      Setting out the next morning, our last day before heading home, we explored some of the small back roads along the coast.  With the wind in our faces we walked along an awesome cliff out at the end of the point; we watched the waves coming in over the rocks and the blowing grass that seemed to crawl up the hillside.       The area was remote and a little wild, with some small farms and cottages scattered along the shore.  We saw a house made of sod; it was round like an igloo, and seemed to be constructed of nothing but solar panels and grass.  We followed a road that soon turned to a tiny lane; eventually it came to a dead end in a peat bog, surrounded by bleak hills.  It ended at a narrow footbridge over a river, with a footpath to the small farm on the other side.  By the bridge sat an old car with no wheels, with a mailbox and a NO PARKING sign on it; a sheepdog was on guard duty.      We came to Castle Doona, a nice small castle by the water.  Reading the plaque beside it, we learned that a Spanish Armada ship crashed nearby on the Fahy Strand in 1588, and the survivors camped around the castle.  They got rescued and went north on a different ship, which also crashed, this time in Donegal.  Talk about an ill-fated voyage!      There was a little church ruin by the castle, with a small graveyard with the trademark Celtic Crosses.  Some of Jineen’s ancestors were Conways from Ireland , and we found lots of Conways on the grave markers; we figured surely some of them must be her relatives! The Conways of County Mayo      My sister Patty was quite impressed when we stopped for petrol; in Ireland they still pump your gas for you, take your credit card inside and then bring it back, and you don’t even have to get out of your car – remember those days?       We drove over Claggan Mountain ; we wound our way over a high pass where striped sheep grazed on the side of the road.      Continuing on, we toured Achill Island .  We visited a small fortress on the edge of the water called Kildawnet Castle .  Following the shore around to the west, we stopped at a gorgeous point of land overlooking Achillbeg Island .  The view was beautiful and we thought it was a great spot for to stop for a picnic lunch, but it was extremely windy, so much so that you could barely stand up.  We ended up having a lovely picnic – inside the car!      We drove over the rocky hills and out to tip of Achill Island , where we came to a high cliff overlooking a beautiful sandy beach.  We admired the view from this high spot, and then wound our way down the twisty road to sea level; too bad it was way to cold to swim!       On our way back over the steep mountainous roads Christine decided to act up again; she turned the hazard lights on randomly and resisted all of our attempts to turn them off again.  She must have decided the road wasn’t safe!  Perhaps it is just me, but I prefer to make such decisions myself when I am driving.  But perhaps it was just as well we had the flashers on; we rounded a blind curve and had a sheep encounter of the close kind! Sheep Encounters      Leaving Achill Island , we skirted along the shore of Clew Bay, and presently arrived at Rockfleet Castle (also known as Carrickahowley Castle ).  This turned out to be a really beautiful place!  It sat right on the edge of the water, with a blue rowboat pulled up on the shore nearby.  It was a smallish square castle that had been partially restored, and the best part was that the door was open and we could go up into it and explore!       We got out the torches (never go castling without one!) and climbed up the round turret stairs.  The floors were restored in wood, and we could go all the way to the top and look down the waste chutes and murder holes.  There were bird nests in the windows; one nest in particular was huge and had obviously been constructed by some very large birds!  Swallows perched on the rafters of the renovated roof, oblivious to our presence.  We decided that Rockfleet was one of the nicest castles we had seen on the trip!  Rockfleet Castle      Reading the information plaque, we learned that Rockfleet Castle was the home of Grace O’Malley, the Pirate Queen, after the death of her second husband in the 1500s.  I thought this sounded like a really interesting story, and after returning home I went to the Internet for more information.  I wasn’t disappointed; it is a compelling legend.  Here is a small excerpt from one of the articles I found about her:   “In 1530 a legend was created.  Born into Ireland was a flamboyant red-head with salt water in her veins, fire in her eyes and the wind in her hair.  She dreamed of the day she would sail the sea and control the waves.  She vowed to follow in her father's footsteps as soon as she could prove herself.  Her mother wanted her to settle down and be a lady, but Grace was full of fire and determination.  The Irish noblewoman who led a band of 200 sea raiders from the coast of Galway and fought the English never knew how she would change history forever. She loved, she pirated and she conquered the sea at a time when men were in control and women were meek.  This was the lady pirate known as Grace O’Malley, the Pirate Queen.”      Leaving Rockfleet, we visited the Burrishoole Abbey, a nice abbey on a little inlet lake with swans and a great view of the house owned by a former US Ambassador to Ireland , who now also owns Rockfleet Castle .  Another American who owns an Irish castle; maybe there is hope for me yet!      We headed back south and east again, as we wanted to spend the night somewhere not too far from Shannon Airport.  We had quite a few miles to cover, and by the time we arrived in the town of Gort it was after nine o’clock; we had to beg dinner at a local hotel after closing time, before heading to our B&B.      Tired and ready for bed, we had to argue a bit more with Christine.  She had by then decided that the driver was no longer allowed to know when the parking brake was activated, so she had blanked out the indicator; though it really didn’t matter as she put the parking brake on and off according to her whims anyway.  She also chose that night to refuse to let the dashboard lights be turned off; we had visions of a dead battery in the morning.  Perhaps it was revenge for the mirror incident on the first day.  We got the feeling that Christine was still quite cross about that! Christine with two of the three 'KotDLT'      In the morning, we took a good look at the scratch in the paint on Christine’s mirror, caused by hitting the signpost.  Despite several attempts, we hadn’t had any luck throughout the trip getting a bird to poop on it to hide the evidence, so we took a blue magic marker and did a little creative cosmetic enhancement on Christine ourselves.  It worked like a charm; the car rental people never noticed a thing!      We flew home from Shannon Airport via Boston , where we once more were delayed for hours (I always seem to have bad luck when I fly through Boston !)  But the good news is that we were able to successfully bring the Chalice back home; this was a relief, as we certainly didn’t want anything to happen to the Holy Pail!  We considered the trip to be a triumphant reunion for the Knights of the Drop-Leaf Table, and we enjoyed it thoroughly.  I also ended up with two really lovely new Irish horses, so the trip was a success all around.  But we’ll play it safe for a while; we won’t be risking taking the Chalice on back to Ireland anytime soon! The Knights of the Drop-Leaf Table!