The Wild West

Shop Street, Galway City

Amila and I jumped on a bus to Galway in order to explore some of Western Central Ireland for a few days. After nearly four hours on a bus that stopped through all the small towns (Galway is only 200 km from Dublin), we arrived, groggy but eager to start exploring. We walked up to check in to the hostel we’d picked and none other than a Canadian was working behind the desk! So it came about that he was just finishing his shift and asked us if we

wanted to go drink some beer and enjoy the afternoon sunshine by the Spanish Arch. And we did JUST THAT while waiting for David to join us in town as he lives just out in the Galway countryside.

Once David arrived and we’d had a quick bite to eat, we followed him out to a house party, where we met a number of his friends, and then some! We were fortunate enough to

have a hookup to wheel the party taxi back to the city center, in which we sang our little hearts out, listening to a number of random uTube videos. After the whole day travelling, Amila and I were exhausted and decided to call it a night.

The next day was mostly spent making our way to the Cliffs of Moher and back as they are just South of Galway City. Despite being adequately prepared, we were both still awed by the sheer size of the Cliffs. This is one sight which cannot compare to photos and definitely must be seen in person. Of course, we followed in the footsteps of many before us and walked on past the barriers, out onto the narrow winding path that follows the edge of the cliff. But I must note that, had it not been for Amila’s audacity, I would probably not have ventured out there and would likely have regretted not doing so afterwards. The whistling wind, the sound of the waves crashing on the shore 120 meters below and the cry of the seagulls drifting about all made for a few moments of tranquility where neither of us spoke.

Although we could have easily stood there all day, the bus back to Galway set a limit to our time there and off we went again, this time on route towards the ferry in Rosaveel, where we would cross over to Inishmore, the largest of the Aran Islands, just off the West Coast of Ireland. We alighted

around 8 pm and set off in the direction the road from the port took us in search of the hostel we’d booked the night before. We were surprised by a rooster pecking around in the front yard of an abandoned pub along the way and, despite my gut feeling telling me to keep walking in the same direction, Amila was unsure as to whether we would manage to find this hostel at all!

And so, she flagged down the next approaching vehicle and walked up to the Jeep window to ask the man at the wheel for directions, hoping he knew a bit of English at least (as this area is most renowned for its high percentage of Gaelic speakers). As it turns out, the first words he spoke were to warn her that he was completely and utterly drunk and may not be in the proper mental capacity to answer any of her questions, but she was free to go ahead and ask! We probably should not have been so surprised as we were on a tiny isolated island, which would likely mimic countryside lifestyle! But, sure enough,

he pointed us in the direction we had been walking in and, a few minutes later, we found a sign pointing off towards our hostel.

The hostel was owned and managed by an older woman with a few missing teeth, who greeted us in kind manner and offered to put on a cup of tea right away, which we politely declined as we hadn’t yet eaten dinner and were going to immediately head out in search of a restaurant.

We soon found that basically the only restaurant on the island open at 9 pm is one that is part of a hotel right on the end of the pier in the harbour! And, of course, the prices were a bit steep, but we treated ourselves to some nice fresh seafood and white wine!

The next morning started early with bike rentals and a 30 minute trek on narrow winding gravel roads along the coast

to Dun Aengus, an old fort built in the 2^nd century BC. We spotted a few cows and donkeys along the way... and were even fortunate enough to see a couple seals waddling along the shore! What awkward creatures they are!

 

Since we started out early, and the first fairy   carrying tourists to the island hadn’t arrived yet, we were the sole occupants of the fort, which made the experience all the more amazing! We scrutinized the intricately placed stones,
observed  a  couple fishermen  in  their currachs,  and  lay down  onto the side of the cliff,  sticking our  heads out  over  the  edge  to see where the water crashed against the rock 100 meters below us. Definitely the most interesting castle I’ve seen thus far!

View of the cliffs from Dun Aengus

Overall, we managed to get on to a number of things in the little time we were in the West; including a bit of bickering, as sisters do! But we’re pretty good travellers together I think. J