Framed by sandy beaches and staggering cliff edges, the small peninsula of Dingle, Ireland, has 50 pubs for its 1,800 residents. In the 18th-century, local businessmen could get a liquor license for a couple of shillings and ran two businesses at the same time. After a few pints of Guinness, don't be surprised if a local puts his arm around you and makes you join in for a round of Irish folksongs before seguewaying into the Irish national anthem. To work off the beer, cycle along the 100-mile road tracing the Dingle Peninsula, where green hills abut gold, sandy beaches.
I want to go... Just to say I've been to "Dingle" Ireland. Makes me think of my cousin James who used to laugh when he's talk about his dog's dingleberries...
50 pubs for 1800 seems a bit excessive for my taste, but damn, check out that view!
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