Only to sit on the tarmack. Then the captain announced they were having a mechanical issue and everyone would be getting back off the plane. It was a race to be one of the first people to the ticket counter, to try to get another flight. We were probably about #30 in line, and it took us an hour to get to the front of the queue and be told that they could get us to Chicago, but no guarantees that we'd make our existing connecting flight.
Given the choice between staying overnight in an airport hotel in Chicago or our own bed, I voted for going back home and doing the entire thing all over again the next day. I went to bed at 5 PM that night (hubby didn't, which may be why I was ready to go in Ireland and he slept 18 hours straight of our first day there, ha) and was up at 1:30 on the 6th all over again.
And I discovered that airports are possibly the worse place in creation to try to eat with food allergies; fortunately, I'd come prepared with all kinds of bars to eat. I slept maybe 2 hours out of 24, but was mostly just bored. By the time we landed, I was feeling a bit queasy from hunger, so our first stop was kind of a blur. But thank goodness for pictures!
We arrived at our cottage that afternoon and so began the Great Sleep. It wasn't until late the next day that I was able to drag my husband out for a walk, and we discovered the neighborhood was full of newer holiday homes--but very tastefully done to blend in with old places like this one.
And since we spent a fair amount of time in the cottage (had some really nasty storms in our time in Ireland), it's only fair to show you the view from Bar Cillatha (the holiday cottage we rented).
More to come from Ireland next week--if I don't get too bogged down with other projects, lol
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