After leaving London, my group flew into Kerry, Ireland. The airport was literally the smallest airport I've ever seen. In fact, I think the plane was larger than the airport itself. Needless to say Passport control was pretty carefree there. From the airport we ran for about fifteen minutes, wearing layers upon layers and carrying all our luggage, to the nearest bus stop to catch our bus to Tralee, and then to Dingle. The bus ride alone was absolutely stunning, as we rode through Irish countryside. Our hostel, called the Hideaway Hostel, was perfect in almost every way, including Eleonora, the little old Irish lady who greeted us, just after she finished picking daffodils for the table. We got checked in just in time to watch the sun set over the bay, then grab some dinner at a local pub, and finish the night watching a soccer match in another pub. The town was beautiful, and we got to see the surrounding countryside on Friday, when we biked 40 kilometers, or 24.8 miles, around the peninsula. Dingle is a beautiful town that I regretted leaving, and am determined to visit again sometime (hopefully soon!) We visited beaches, bought wool socks, saw Funghi the Dolphin, made friends with a man from Allentown, Pennsylvania, and a girl from Germany, ate lots of good food and drank delicious cider. While riding our bikes around the peninsula, we met two elderly Irish women who were climbing up one of the hills as we were coming down. We told them we were studying in Rome and one of them said "This is our Vatican. This is a cathedral of its own." How true it is! As of now, I've seen the Colosseum, the Pantheon, countless ancient ruins, dozens of grand churches, the Eiffel Tower, Big Ben, the Tower of London, Westminster Abbey, and yet none of those things compared to the sights we saw in Dingle.