Cork, Part IV: Moher and Moher cliffs

It's a little Hallmark (which I'm normally not attracted to), but I couldn't resist.

Our last stop on this trip was the Cliffs of Moher.  They're one of the more popular tourist attractions near Galway (at this point, we were about 90 minutes away from Gort.)

The view, just moments after I alighted from the bus.

And yes, that is real.

Located at the southwestern edge of County Clare (which neighbors County Galway), these cliffs range in height between 120-214 m (390-702 ft) above the Atlantic.

That tower was built as a lookout tower during the Napoleonic wars.

Behind the cliffs lay a landscape with a beauty all its own.  Ladies and gentlemen, the rolling hills of Ireland.

(As well as a close-up of dear Galway Bay.)

A sobering reminder, as I clambered over the embankment in search of those postcard-worthy photos.

The Cliffs, being composed of shale and sandstone, have incurred plenty of erosion over centuries...to the extent that entire slabs of stone have been known to drop into the ocean without a moment's notice.  After learning this, I was slightly concerned that there were no rails along the edges of the cliff.

Barely two feet away from a sheer drop.

I couldn't stop ogling the water - all of that water!  What is it about water that inspires such peace?

Maybe it was the knowledge that I was literally toeing the coastline of this country...and 3,000 miles from that very spot, my sweet boy was doing his homework and waiting patiently for my return.

Of course, I had to climb to the highest point possible...

...and I caught all kinds of beauty along the way.

The sun, though delightfully brilliant, was in my eyes...hence the extreme squint.

Of course, I met the token Indian.  It was bound to happen.  S, who hails from Bombay, was more than happy to take a few photos for me.

Cheers, friends!