Mizen Head

I couldn't keep my eyes open though I was trying with everything to keep watching giant waves crash fifty feet high hitting the jagged cliffs half a mile below.

Standing on the lookout stand of the last Lighthouse on the southern most tip of Ireland is one of the most incredible things I've done in life!

And I've been fortunate enough to have done some pretty cool things.

Mizen Head is a lookout point once used to guide ships from around the world to Europe.

In a blustery cold wind after a long days ride through the barren side of the island and lunch at O'Sullivan's in a harbor town of 40 year round residents.

Toasted cheese sandwiches, sweet potato soup with chili and seafood chowder in a tiny seaside Pub fortified us for the mile long hike to the Lighthouse standing teetering on the edge of the mountain with majestic views of the Atlantic Ocean meeting the Irish Sea before slamming into mountains exploding from the sea.

Walking through the Light keeper's House we wondered how men survived the loneliness of the post with the singular job of tending the light, forever repairing the buildings from the ravages of the wind and writing in the journal everything that happened when mostly nothing did.

Around the Lighthouse itself is a gangplank stretching out over the sea where we could walk into the 60 mile-an-hour wind holding onto the railing ... one with nature,

It's as exhilarating as anything I've every done!

"What a birthday present!" Sarah exclaims after she returns from the gangplank, her long brown hair blowing in every direction as though she's stuck her finger in the light socket.

Afterwards were glasses of Jamison to warm our bodies and toast the experience.

Ireland is as beautiful a land as ever imagined with it's lush green landscapes, beautiful harbors, colorful villages and ragged mountains.

But it is the people who make this journey special. Warm, friendly, funny and inviting they are quick to start conversation.

Stumbling into a thousand year old church, we're immediately confronted by Lilly, an 85 year old woman who lives with her son the Church Keeper. He forced her to move in with her so he could "take care of her" in her older years.

"That's nice," Sarah says as Lilly has hold of her arm.

"Naw, the boy couldn't mind a kettle of tea."

Strolling into any Pub is akin to attending a family reunion.

This is our routine. Experience the island's beauty in the morning ... find a quaint Pub for lunch ... enjoy the company of others while exploring the towns and villages ... before finding another Pub in the evening.

Kissing the Blarney Stone was magical but Mizen Head was holy!

Today I'm joining others for Mass before diving into the joys of Ireland again.