touristic interlude

if you have thirty minutes for lunch, you can be a tourist. I know, I was one today.

I was looking for a place to eat. something not so deep fried. Not so bun-enriched. Not so western de-civilization. instead I chose to drive 8 miles to the next town and pop out to see a giant clock, visit a museum, and catch 12 minutes of a local film. after a literally cheesy sandwich, I slipped back into my vehicle and drove to my next appointment with destiny (ie, the next line in my appointment book).


The World’s Largest Cookoo Clock (or however you spell it)


An old Swiss cheesemaker used this cauldron-like kettle (or whatever it is really called)


Is this the old cheesemaker?

Slan go foill…


About thelostkerryman

Thelostkerryman is an author, and entrepreneur, living in the forests of a consistently confused country. Here in this hill country, hurling doesn't usually involve a hurley; store-made soda bread has the consistency of a sea sponge; and Kerrygold butter has finally found a permanent place on the grocery shelves everywhere. His blogs are an account of his adventures, thoughts, eclectic -and eccentric- ramblings, random or insightful poetry, humor and non-humor, pictures (photos), video, essays, fiction, poetic fiction, nonfiction, drama, and writing he has not classified in the description above. All of his posts from,,, and are copywrited according to international copywrite law.
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