Stepping off the bus into an indecisive Irish drizzle the first thing you are confronted with is a seven foot tall football player with the eyes of a homicidal maniac and the arms of an irate silverback. This man is built like a brick shit-house. He doesn’t have a face, per se, more of a neck with pupils. As you pick up your luggage from the bag compartment, the man gives you a stare that you will remember for the rest of your life. He does the same to each child. Then he starts barking at you in another language. read the rest