In my opinion the most beautiful times of the day are sunrise and sunset. We set off on a race to make the Cliffs of Moher before sunset. Taking twice as long as expected we thankfully arrived just in time.
The day was blessed with perfection. All but my toes were merry. I stupidly left the hostel wearing only two pairs of socks, instead of the usual five pairs. We were standing 214 meters higher than the Atlantic ocean on the west coast of Ireland. I was quite concerned when a severe pain replaced all movement and feeling in my toes. On our way home I pondered that even if I lost one or a couple of toes on our race to the Cliffs of Moher at least their absence would trigger a beautiful day and a thrilling journey: 'toe/s lost winning a race to make the Cliffs of Moher before sunset'.
Luckily after close examination they were just stunned, numb... completely stagnate -
not by the view but by the chill.
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