The next morning we awoke to our second of a continuous and gratifyingly enjoyable string of full English breakfasts, as well as some classic Penn & Teller comedy. I chose to celebrate the dawn in silence, enjoying breakfast alone with a beautiful view of the foggy morning and a newspaper, thankful that Pontardawe was past.

Dan and Tom chose to think I was a bit of a loner.

Saturday was a heavy travel day as we drove to Caernarfon in Northern Wales (can a country that small have a north?).

Our journey brought to light the heavy influence of the Welsh language as we traveled up the coast. In the south of Wales road signs were in English, followed sometimes by Welsh. As we drove further North, the positions switched and now Welsh came first, English second. Even further along, they occasionally forgot to translate...leaving us to decipher unpronouncable, consonant-rich place names such as Trawsfynydd and Penbontrhydybeddau as well as keeping important information, including "Wales Tourist Information Center" to be translated from the likes of Canolfan Hysbysu Ymwelwyr Cymru.
 
 

Along the way we found some of the most beautiful spots we would visit this trip. Of course, we were driving too fast to see much of it. Dan, being the odd man out here (back-seater), found the meaning of fear as we hurtled along at 80+ kilometers an hour along curving, two-way one-lane roads with tall hedge-rows lining the sides and mist flowing across, making passing and visibility difficult, to be kind about it.

At one point, we had to stop for something you don't see in the States too often. It's probably not all that prevalent in the U.K. either, but when in Wales... The plant soon crossed and we were on our way again.

We meandered near the coast and were delighted to find —off the beaten path— a nice tavern called the Ship Free House in the quaint town of Tresaith, overlooking the ocean. A "free house" designation means simply that no particular brewery owns the tavern, thus they can serve whatever beers they enjoy. Ahhhh.

Before partaking in the bounties to be had at The Ship, we chose a leisurely slide down to the sandy beach we could see below, and were "pleasantly surprised" (as popularized by the show Love Connections) to find a wonderful waterfall just around the corner from our view from the tavern. To demonstrate our unbridled enthusiasm, may I present the following montage of images which reflect our joy of Nature, the coast of Wales, and the realization that if we don't start snapping some pictures, we're going to come back empty-handed.
 

As we first came upon the phenomenon of an ocean, we noticed a lone fisherman fighting the eternal battle with the sea. Conversing with him, we learned that the sea was winning this day. Our loud and boisterous noise may not have been helpful.

 

Next, it was time for me to try my hand at the nouveau avant-garde with my three subjects: Tom, Dan's Back, and the Infinite Sea.

 
 

I turned a cinematic eye towards the waterfall, posing Dan above and Tom below to grasp the power of water as it tumbles from on high to the eager waves waiting beneath.

 
 

Switching lenses if you will,  we have Dan's rendition featuring Bill "Tits n Gut" Fisher and Tom "Toughguy" Collins sharing a surreal, watery backdrop.

 

Giving up the video camera for a moment, Dan tempts Fate to get this daring picture and wins - for now...

 
 

The waterfall... pure and unadulterated. without the touch of humanity. flows in this vertical image.

 
 

Showing that no man is an island, the BilFish demonstrates our feeble grasp of terra firma...and wonders how in hell he's getting off this rock island.

 
 

Remember Dan's bout with Fate? That was round one. Here Fate rushes upon (and over) Dan and Tom. BilFish remains safely behind the shutter.

 
 
 

The moment after Fate spits her wet will... (as opposed to a wet willy)

 
 

Having received the brunt of Fate's loving attention, Tom goes for broke with this somewhat dangerous pose with the fast-moving tide. And remember, this is before we started drinking.

Dan's amazing technicolor dreamcoat saved him from a similar fate as Tom, for which I sensed a certain bitterniss lurking in Tom's sodden heart for much of the rest of the trip.

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Back from a classic struggle with the sea, Dan and Tom enjoy a good pint in the warmth of The Ship Inn with a congenial local Phil, his doggy Ska, and the lovely barkeep Beth (not pictured, alas).

After a few pints, Tom and I endear ourselves to the locals through our combined inability to count to ten mixed with our desire to insult them by comparing their native language to that spoken by Klingons.

I then chat up the barkeepette with a traditional muscle car reference, "Yeah, we're driving a top-of-the-line car. She's a real 16 Volt hot rod..." 

Despite our amusing idiosyncracies Phil, on his fifth "second" pint, invited us intrepid explorers to another bar to watch an important rugby match. Citing a previous engagement with a castle, we respectfully (and repeatedly) declined. 

Back on the road again towards Caernarfon (pronounced Care-nar-von) we see the ill effects of such drinking as Tom waters the roadside grasses.

Reaching Caernarfon, we found a place to stay, a place to eat, and fell quiet in the night.

What we did NOT find was a pair of toenail clippers for the erstwhile William, as I was in pain from the poor shoe choices I had made and almost limping from an overgrown toenail being bashed by my footgear into painful oblivion. Apparently, the Welsh don't cut their nails or something. 3 days of looking, 3 days of no findee.

If you can't get enough bathroom-related images, Try Here!

Back to dinner: the inn's hostess (and about 12 other people we asked) suggested that the only place likely serving dinner in the small town was the Black Boy pub, which we finally made our way 'round to.

Entering this small, crowded tavern we noticed the sign on the wall which read, "The Black Boy can't be Beaten." Considering that 9 out of 10 locals had recommended the place to us...we found a seat, requested dinner, and determined to keep our mouths shut.

Soon we found ourselves enjoying a few pints and striking up conversation with a strong, drunken Welsh farmer interested in talking to us Americans because, well, nothing runs like a Deere. John Deere tractors, made in the U.S.A., that is.

Whilst Dan and Tom became engaged in an animated discussion involving, uhhh, farming equipment, I was gently if firmly accosted by a nice young lady introduced to us by Farmer John as "my woman" to which she appeared to take great offence.

This may have been the impetus for her interest in me, but I claim raw animal magnetism, charm and wit. Having not had much to drink, I realized that if FarmerBoy and his buddies caught wind of the flirtatious attention I was receiving on our side of the table I would certainly soon be Deere fertilizer and Tom and Dan along with me. Now somewhat unsteady myself, I worked to avert an international "misunderstanding" and kept her hand from roaming up my international boundaries until such time as we could make our exits to thunderous applause and crushing handshakes all around from FarmMan & Clan.

Still, nothing runs like a Deere. Unless it's Dan, Tom and I hoofing it out of town.

Our third English breakfast greeted us as we prepared to visit the main attraction and namesake of this fair city, Caernarfon Castle, owned by the Prince of Wales (Prince Charles) and used for his coronation site twenty-five or so years ago.

Before the castle opened we felt it might be appropriate to seek reservations for the ferry over to Ireland and for lodgings for the next two evenings in Dublin since it was St. Patrick's Day weekend and things might be a touch busy.

Chosen to be the phone man, I first contacted the ferry company where I felt the need to point out to the nice young lady on the phone that when she said the port of "Dun leary" I realized that Dan and I had been pronouncing it "Dun LoWW-gare" somewhat to our chagrine. It is actually spelled "Dun Laoghaire" so I didn't feel that bad...but Dan was annoyed that I pointed my (our) error out to the girl.

Anyway, the next several calls finally secured our most expensive evening of the trip as we were passed from full hotel to full hotel. Even so, reservation were for one night as the next night was reallllly booked full, not a good sign, but we'd worry about that bridge when we got across the water.

No Euro-trip is complete without gratuitous shots of castles. Thus we present Caernarfon Castle, impressive in it's own right.

Shaped something like a large B without the connecting bar in the middle, the stunningly impressive castle walls surrounded two large courtyards, rising nearly two hundred feet into the air.

This first view (left) is looking from the center towards one loop of the castle. In this very grassy area, the coronation of Prince Charles took place. Yup. Just picture it. Right there.

Next we took a photo from one of the highest towers, looking down at Dan standing in a lower tower, with views of much of the city arrayed behind. Dan and I present our casual nature (and my large gut) in this framing of one of the doorways built into the castle walls. Didn't you always want a secret door like that as a kid?

		Finally, no castle can be considered complete without cannonade. And no series of images can be rounded out without a round ass on that self-same cannon. BilFish enjoys the defacing more history on our Woa! Ugly American tour of the UK and Ireland.

Finishing our tour of the castle in breath-taking time (lots of steep stairs) we drove to Holyhead, Wales, where we would park and embark on the next portion of our journey, the fast ferry ride to Ireland.

The ferry we were on was something like the world's biggest hydrofoil with four 100,000 horsepower engines capable of carrying 1200 passengers and 300 cars across from Holyhead, Wales to Dun Laoghaire, Ireland in about 1.5 hours at speeds approaching 50 miles per hour.

Phew! Those are some sexy statistics, no?

It felt like we were on a giant cruise ship. This image of Tom is off the back of the ferry, at the passenger level (around 40-50 feet above the water). The wind is whipping his mullet up and the spray from the incredible wake churning behind us covered everything. Along with the visible drink, we enjoyed our first fast food of the trip —McDonald's— during the crossing.

Arriving at the port, we flirted with the reservations agent while she called around to get us set up with a room for the following evening, which she did with great patience and charm. Hats off to this beautiful introduction to the Emerald Isle.

We made our way into Dublin via the light rail system, and walked across much of Dublin on our way to the hotel. It turns out we were ironically given the honeymoon suite and had to stay out of the way while a photographer captured the spirit of the hotel via this, the finest room they had. Well, we paid for the finest and it turns out we got it!

Time for unpacking and a brief rest as both Dan and Tom were suffering from the weight of their luggage sans car.