As I enter this town with one main street, a feeling of loneliness overwhelms me. I miss Doolin, I was only there for two nights. I miss talking with Jennene and trying her amazing Potato dish and tea. And walking down the street with the sun shining, and the cozy hostel by the street. I miss the cliffs.
And I wish I had cycled with Neeve and company. Now I'm in this strangle little town and everyone at the hostel is older than me.
Regret, go away. Even in Ireland my tendencies follow.
In a weird way it's reassuring. I know what things are on me to change.
I do however meet a Scotsman, and his accent is very refreshing. I tell him my last name, haha. He is going to the island too.
Skellig Michael, you are in my sights..
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