A cottage, a fiat punto and a few girls

The time has finally come. After five years of talking about it, dreaming about it and ordering pints of Guiness to pretend like we had we were already there - we are going to Ireland. We are going to the Homeland. Although after monthes of internet research it might not be our homeland as much as we had hoped. We don't care, we are going to find were we belong (and if we happen to meet some nice young Irishmen the way - so be it)

We've rented a small house on the Southwest coast. According to the email I recieved last week it shouldn't be to hard to find. My very precise directions were, "Drive to Kenmare, make a left at the post office and a right at the pub. You'll see the sign."

Make a right at the post office and a left at the first pub. How hard could it be?

In addition to our house we have rented the world's smallest car, a Fiat Punto. I believe Punto is spanish for "can't fit suitcase." When I mentioned on the phone that there would be four of us the woman taking the reservation laughed so hard she might of had to change her pants after we hung up.