For the first week of my honeymoon in Ireland, my wife very sick and bedridden the majority of the time. Since I had booked our bed and breakfasts months ahead of time, we had no choice but to move from city to city every few days. During the day, when my new wife was alternating between sleeping and throwing up (hopefully not from marrying me), I would explore the coast and countryside by myself. One day, we were staying on the Dingle Peninsula, in southwest Ireland. I wanted to get a photograph of the green fields, the rocky cliffs, and the choppy ocean, which entailed hiking up a cliff, climbing over fences, and trying to avoid stepping in huge piles of sheep excrement. As I approached the top of the cliff, I noticed that a storm was coming. The winds picked up and it was raining very hard just off shore. I ran the last few hundred yards to the cliffs edge and took my photographs just as the wind started to blow really hard. At one point I thought I might accidently be blown off the edge, into the water below, and my wife would never know what had happened to me... As I peered at the rocks and water directly below me, I noticed that there was a huge, old, rusted shipwreck with its haul split in two, about 300 feet below me. I later learned that this wreck was the Ranga, a 1,586 ton, 320 foot long container ship that lost power on her maiden voyage, during a storm in 1982. As the cold wind and rain started to pour down on me, I started to make my way back down. After slipping on the steep, wet, hill, covered in sheep dung, I briefly took shelter in some nearby ruins, but after a quick break continued running, walking, slipping, and sliding down the hill to my car below.