Ireland is a neat place. It's green, really green. Ireland is beautiful, even in the almost constant rain. It brings out this urge in me to swing a sword and flail a mace. To raise my shield to my enemies and bring down my doom to cleave them asunder. Until I start throwing up. Day 1 started out great, I helped Jeremy Cotton navigate out to Castlebar were we set up camp. The next day I woke up feeling just great, I ate a bowl of oatmeal and a banana. About an hour later I lost the bowl of oatmeal and banana. I spent most of my second day in Ireland either on the toilet or passed out. Much to wife's discontent I did almost nothing with our group except a small walk around town, after which I promptly returned to the comfort of my porcelain throne and my sleeping bag. As I lay looking up at the ceiling I began to recall the tropical countries I have been to. Specifically the ones that people had given me horror story after horror story of horrendous food with debilitating aftereffects. I have enjoyed my share of that food on missions trips but without any of the problems. Now here I was laying in Ireland dealing with those problems that I had avoided. While this was not a food related sickness I have vowed for the foreseeable future to not eat oatmeal or fish and chips. I had this same problem when I was about 13 and I got the flu right after eating chinese food. I didn't touch the stuff for about 6 months.
But now I feel healthy again. Thanks to my wonderfully designed immune system and the prayers of so many I find myself riding through the Irish country side praying for people and day dreaming about living in castles while fighting off roving hordes of orks and such. I recommend that everybody visit Ireland. But leave the flu at home.
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