Withholding all comment. Thought this was a site for uilleann piping topics.
Message says OT in the title.
Yes, but it also is regarding opinions for travel thru Clare, not opinions about politics.
Now back to the topic. Thanks for your input everyone-I will probably just show up and then make the decision on where to go first 
We do deserve a diary out of this thread.
Oo, yes, and presents! Lots o’ presents! 
djm
instead of travelling through clare how about : Entering Marion
Every year I drive out to Cape Cod for the last part of June.
Leave the city by ten and you’re there in the late afternoon.
On the way there’s a village called Marion that you pass through.
The first time I approached it, I’ll always remember the sign that came into view.
It said, “Entering Marion.”
And I thought, “What a fun little sign!”
But the feeling of entering Marion
Had a kick that was hard to define…
A rapturous rush, a physical flush,
Chills up and down the spine.
For the few minutes I was in Marion
All Massachusetts was mine.
(spoken) Well, it got to be kind of an annual thing…the event that would start each vacation off with a bang!
Then one year–who knows why?–I decided to try a new route.
So I got out my map and I traced one I thought was a beaut.
After driving all morning, I came to the top of a hill,
Where a sign stood before me that promised a new kind of thrill.
It said, “Entering Beverly,”
Which was lovely and not overbuilt.
And the pleasure of entering Beverly
Far outweighed any feelings of guilt.
I could say I’m contrite but it wouldn’t be right,
For the truth is that later that day,
I found myself entering Sharon.
It was there. So was I. We enjoyed it. Hey, what can I say?
By the next year I’d try any route, just for novelty’s sake.
I was cursed with a thirst that no single township could slake.
Oh, at the wheel I looked calm but inside I was running amok,
When a sign in the road dead ahead sent me straight into shock:
“Entering Lawrence.”
My God! I was out of control.
And I’d no sooner finished with Lawrence
Than Boom! I was entering Lowell.
Then I backtracked and re-entered Lawrence,
Then Quincy and Norton as well.
Around midnight I pulled into Athol
And flopped in a fleabag motel.
I slept fitfully in my clothing
And awoke in a pool of sweat and self-loathing.
Lying there, feeling lower than carrion,
A name came clear as a clarion.
I jumped in my car
And before very far–
I was entering Marion.
How totally, wonderfully great!
How grand to be entering Marion
After tramping all over the state.
Every sleaze-bucket burb,
Every tryst by the curb
Had really just helped me to find
I’m happiest entering Marion.
I guess I’m the Marion kind.
Oh yes, I’m the Marion kind.
c 1988 Limousine Music Co (ASCAP)
just a thought.