Appy Feet

No, really. It's Appy Feet, not Happy Feet. We're not talking about something as commonplace as  penguins. No, not at all. This is Appy Feet: The Ultimate Fish Pedicure.

We went into Belfast today in search of an electronics store and a bank. Mission accomplished on both counts. Can I say it's a pain to have to use different currencies without even going through customs? How can you tell where one starts and the other stops? I suppose I should just shut up and be happy there's no customs to deal with. Let's go with that.

So I needed to use the toilet (that's how they're all labeled over here), and we went into the local mall. On our way back out, I checked out the window to see what this Appy Feet place was. You go in, wash your feet, put them in a fish tank, and fish eat the dead skin off your feet. This would freak me out more if Clinton and I hadn't stumbled into this service in a tidal pool in Jacksonville. Anyway, I did it, made some nice friends (who wouldn't with fish eating your feet?), and I swear - not even paying much attention - I noticed that my feet felt softer on our way back to the car.

Dinner at the castle was really great and really cool. Restaurant is in the cellar and they've really pulled off a great mix of dressy casual, past-present, etc. Gotta run - Clinton has been patiently waiting to WOW and is growing restless...