I know these Ireland entries aren't very gripping. It is hard to explain why gawping at scenery all day is fun.

Not much is happening because John's in the pub.

Kidding.

Killarney is a small town that is packed full of pubs, little shops and tourists. (Okay. I'm just bitter because I got my evening ruined by a bunch of loud businessmen on the piss and celebrating being without the wife.) However, large coaches pack the roads and the race meetings make traffic difficult on the tiny town roads.

Seeking to escape the madness, we went down the Dingle peninsula, to locate the beach at Inch. The beach is large with beautiful golden sand. It was full of sunbathers and waterbabies, due to the 32 degree weather that made yesterday in Ireland a scorcher (the locals are in shock).

We stopped for lunch at a pub (notice a pattern everyone? My arteries are relieved to be leaving Ireland, and the liver ain't far behind) and then headed back to Killarney to catch a film while the peak of the race meeting was on. We then sat in a pub, had a snack and a few drinks while I wrote postcards and listened to the live trad music.

Today, we drive back, and are on our way to Frankfurt. Don't worry, I've got the ground transport sorted!