The wayside gatherings seemed especially unreal--almost as if they had been scenes on the film. By some extraordinary method of news transmission the report of our arrival had spread all over the district, and in many districts between Clifden and Galway curious crowds had gathered. Near Galway we were stopped by another automobile, in which was Major Mays of the Royal Aëro Club, whose duty it was to examine the seals on the Vickers-Vimy, thus making sure that we had not landed in Ireland in a machine other than that in which we left Newfoundland. A reception had been prepared at Galway; but our hosts, realizing how tired we must be, considerately made it a short and informal affair. Afterwards we slept--for the first time in over forty hours. CHAPTER VIII AFTERMATH OF ARRIVAL Alcock and I awoke to find ourselves in a wonderland of seeming unreality--the product of violent change from utter isolation during the long flight to unexpected contact with crowds of people interested in us. To begin with, getting up in the morning, after a satisfactory sleep of nine hours, was strange. In our eastward flight of two thousand miles we had overtaken time, in less than the period between one sunset and another, to the extent of three and a half hours. Our physical systems having accustomed themselves to habits regulated by the clocks of Newfoundland, we were reluctant to rise at 7 A. M.; for subconsciousness suggested that it was but 3:30 A. M. [Illustration: © Underwood & Underwood, N. Y. THE VICKERS-VIMY TRANSATLANTIC MACHINE IN THE AIR] [Illustration: THE LAST SQUARE MEAL IN AMERICA WAS EATEN NEAR THE WINGS OF THE MACHINE] This difficulty of adjustment to the sudden change in time lasted for several days. Probably it will be experienced by all passengers traveling on the rapid trans-ocean air services of the future--those who complete a westward journey becoming early risers without effort, those who land after an eastward flight becoming unconsciously lazy in the mornings, until the jolting effect of the dislocation wears off, and habit has accustomed itself to the new conditions. Then, after breakfast--eaten in an atmosphere of the deepest content--there began a succession of congratulatory ovations. For these we were totally unprepared; and with our relaxed minds, we could not easily adapt ourselves to the conditions attendant upon being magnets of the world's attentive curiosity. First came a reception from the town of Galway, involving many addresses and the presentation of a memento in the form of a Claddagh ring, which had historical connections with a landing on the coast of Ireland thereabouts by vessels of the Spanish Armada.