Europe Day 38 of 59, Cork to Amsterdam

Last night, with our delicious dinner, I drank Coca Cola. I never do that, but Barbie had bought a 1.5L bottle at the pizza place in Killarney and you can't take liquids on airplanes (because it's acceptable to have stupid rules in the name of security) and, well, listen... I looked at that indescribable brown liquid and thought, "Why throw it out when you can Drink It?" So I had some, and man it was like a candy bar in a glass. I had some more, and I was well aware that the chemicals in it could keep me awake like coffee, so I had Barbie give me one of her magical sleeping pills.

That entire paragraph could have been this sentence, "I slept like a rock all night and morning, and loved it." After showering and what not, it was time to load the rental car one last time. By the way, here when you rent a car you "hire" a car. I like that. We "hired" this Volvo S40 to be our car for 8 days, and we told it warm stories of our beloved Volvo S40 at home in Los Angeles. And it was odd to get the same car we have at home as a rental AND have the steering wheel on the opposite side so that it didn't feel like our car in the least.

I felt the need to show you how close the car sat to our Sitting Room.

I also felt the need to show you our bags tucked nicely into the trunk of this compact car.

I also felt the need to show you the one and only moment that I have ever driven a car with the steering wheel on the right. Barbie has driven ever meter we have driven in Ireland, for I am the map master and it simply makes sense for me to navigate while she drives. But this morning it was I behind the wheel, bringing the car over to the hotel entrance. Moment captured.

Before heading to the Cork airport, we had an hour and a half to check out something Corkish. We had our pick of a few highlights, but opted to go on foot to St. Finbarr's Cathedral. Sure, it was close. But think about it. You can see a St. Nicholas' or a St. Mary's most anyplace. But a St. Finbarr's?

Walking along the Lancaster Quay. A lovely Irish afternoon.

The closed minded associate Ireland with excessive alcohol consumption. Foolish and shortsighted, that is. And this store proves it, no?

There it is, St. Finbarr's Cathedral. Now, the map from the hotel spells it St. Finbarr. Wikipedia spells it St. Finbarr. But I tell you, hand to the sky, that inside this cathedral I saw it spelled, "St. Finn Barr." Who ya gonna believe?

I took many pictures inside the cathedral, but I like this one the best.

A great pic. And the story behind it is that we stay silent in cathedrals, on account of our classy and respectful natures. Well, I pointed the iPhone at her and she smiled. Then I swished my hand briefly and then aimed and she instantly did her Price is Right model pose. Personally, I think that before people are allowed to get married they should be forced to communicate in silence across a large room. Now that's a compatibility test.

What's special about this pic? Look closely. Do I have to explain who is at the bar at 1:30 PM?

Well named salon, my friend.

Some streets call out to be photographed. Looking at it, this should be black & white.

The entrance to our hotel.

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The hotel. Apparently sideways. Time to hop in that car and return it to Hertz at the airport.

The diesel is CLEAN.

Math time. 30.59 Litres equals 8.08 gallons. €33.01 equals $45.72. Therefore, we paid $5.66 per gallon. People in the USA should shut it.

In the airport, we have the first instance where Barbie uses my netbook to book something. This instance is the exact reason I did not "Hackintosh" the netbook. I am certain that fascinated you.

Yours truly making a skype call in the airport. I am not eating the netbook, I am talking into the mic that is under the front of this rather small computer. When we went through security, the security girl in her 20's looked closely at it and peeked at the keyboard. I said, "Small, isn't it?" She replied in a thick Irish accent, "Yayse, eht's dinkay."

Our ride.

Everyone waiting to get on the ride, which was delayed one hour.

Getting on the ride. The moment after I took this Barbie and I skipped out of the herd and went to the back stairs, followed by the other free thinkers.

Our ride's path. Not far, just an hour and a half.

This is an anti-perfume methodology. Barbie has yet to have security pull her aside for the Yasir Arafat scarf.

That my friends is Amsterdam, Nederland.

He looks soft and cuddly, but I assure you that he was brass. Not sure why Barbie kissed him. He's not the Blarney Brass Pillow Man Statue.

Verwelkom naar Amsterdam.

What have I told you about highways?

Amsterdam is going to prove itself to be a very beautiful city. How idyllic is that shot? That is from the car, window up.

Dinner with Andre and Lana at Envy. It is always a delight to happen to be in the same city as friends from home. The restaurant was dark, yet had these spotlights on the table. Not at all conducive to blog photography.

The restaurant looks cool, though.

Lana getting a sparkler for her birthday!

A special moment like that deserves a black & white portrait. Andre took excellent care of her for her birthday.

Dessert. Damn spotlights.

Lana, Andre, Barbie, and yours truly, under an oppressive light. The cab driver took this one.

So sleepy. I just typed, "The room from our view." That is the Dutch moon. Sounds like a Dutch boy's bare bottom, yes? (My mother will like that one.)