Ireland, land of many surprises. Green post boxes, and black traffic cones.

Today we took a loop drive down the Beara Peninsula before heading back to Ardmore. The weather was cold, grey, windy, and damp, which one of the locals told us was typical summer weather here. Still, the scenery is beautiful.

We debated whether the sheep perched on the rocky hillsides were incredibly surefooted, or just too stupid to know that was really dangerous.

At Allihies near the end of the peninsula there used to be a major copper mine. All that is left now are some holes in the ground and the occasional pit head building.

There’s also a museum of copper mining there. They don’t have a lot of artifacts, though they do have a detailed history of mining operations from the old account books.

When the copper ran out in that mine, a large part of the population moved to the much larger copper mine in Butte, Montana, where they built the sort of paradise that happens when you give the Irish lots of money and an extra four thousand miles from the Pope.

Among other claims to fame, Butte in the early 20th century had 24 hour a day brothels and the longest bar counter in the world. There were so many Irish there that the Arab rug dealer Mohammed Akara changed his name to Mohammed Murphy.

Paula wanted to see one more stone circle, so I found one that was not far out of our way. I think this might be it.

I’m not sure, because there was no footpath, and the quarter mile was through rough ground and gorse, so we gave up on that one, and went to the carefully manicured one in Kenmare instead.

It’s the largest one locally, and though it is right next to a town, it has been untouched over the centuries because of local superstition. “Faery Forts,” the locals call them.

Of course, wherever she goes, Paula can never resist trying to rearrange the furniture.

Right by the ring there is a wishing tree.

Fifteen hundred years of christianity in Ireland, but they still look to the old religion to grant wishes.