I am out and about, taking an opportunity to stretch my legs a little bit this morning before anybody is awake. Directly across the lane are two horses enjoying their morning munching. When I quietly walk over to the fence, they come up so I can rub their heads. We have a very interesting conversation.

"Nice coats you both have on."

""Yes, we are royalty and should be treated as such. Please rub between my eyes a little more" Duke of the Burgundy Coat tells me.

"And when you finish there, it will be my turn" Sir Green Jacket says.

"And by the way, did you bring any sugar cubes with you? We really like those" he adds.

At least that's what I understand them to say.

After fulfilling my duties to the royal sires, I walk back across the lane and tend to my more mundane duties of the day - eating and packing up the bike.

This will be an easy ride of around 150 miles, probably less than 4 hours of saddle time. We'll be taking N17 from Sligo down to Galway, which has the designation of being one of the busiest roads in Ireland. We are loaded up soon and ride to the campground where the others are waiting for us.

The streets of Adare are lined with quaint and interesting buildings, most built during the 19th century. I discover that the original town of Adare was destroyed during the wars of the 16th century. We tuck into the Dunraven Arms, built in 1792, for a coke and snacks. There's a piano up against the wall, and Peter says -

"Well, have a go at it."

And I do play a couple of numbers just for grins since the place is sort of deserted except for us.

In the center of town we pass the heritage center and a very nice public park, set aside from the land of the original Dunraven Estate. It is a place of quiet contemplation, with walkways that wind through at the park and lovely benches for sitting a spell and thinking. The centerpiece of the park is a large thatched gazebo with six sizable tree trunks as the pillars holding it up.

We also pass the only Trinitarian monastery in Ireland, that was started early in the 13th century during the Crusades. Because the original monks wore white habits, it became known as the White Abbey. They were also known to eat many of the pigeons that frequented the place, because they were plentiful and a ready source of food. The monastery was nearly destroyed several times, and was finally repaired in 1852 and is currently used as a Catholic Church, called the 'Holy Trinity Abbey'.

It's a pretty good walk back to meet the others, and Keith knows that I have a not-so-functioning knee. He asks me

"Are you sure you can make it?"

"No problem, buddy, I'll just take easy and I'll be fine."

So Keith, Miss Ellen and I strike out for town along the tree shadowed lane. It's cool evening and a delightful time to be walking. When we do see a 'chemist' (a pharmacy back in the States), and I go in and pick up some ibuprofen and Tylenol. After I take a couple, my aching joints ease up quite a bit which makes walking a lot more enjoyable. We meet up with the rest of the group near their accommodations and decide that we will stroll along the street looking for a place to eat. When we find one called the Arches that looks promising, so we give it a try. It is very tastefully decorated and the food is excellent. When the last bite is disposed of, we flee the premises and resume our stroll down Main Street. Not too far into our journey, we see a pub called Lena's that has a sign about live music. So we wander in and occupy a corner of the place. Peter notices that up on the wall are hundreds of pieces of paper money with various written notes. He suggest that we do one in honor of BritSToc, so I scrounge up a greenback that we add our autographs to and it is added to the collection. Before long, a lone musician who is a one man show arrives, so at least we get some Irish entertainment for the evening. But I am really tired, so I head back to the B&B a little early. By the time I make it to my room, I welcome the bed and quickly get to the business of sleeping.