WESTERN IRELAND
Clare and Galway
The next morning we awoke early, grabbed a slice of toast, and checked out of the hostel, departing Ennis at 9:30am. We were all pretty exhausted from the previous nights adventures, but as we drove on, the mood turned around. Without a doubt, this was one of the best days I've ever experienced.
The drive was very different from the previous day; everywhere we turned was scenic and absolutely beautiful, green hills and countryside for miles and miles. We gazed in awe at the scenery as we pulled up to the Cliffs of Moher, where we had a little over an hour to explore.
On the cliffs, you have two options; head to the right, and you'll ascend stone steps to the top of an absolutely breathtaking view; this is the route I took with my family six years earlier. Today, I wanted to take the more adventurous-albeit more dangerous- route, Go Left. The walk was stunning. Really, word's cannot describe it, and pictures barely do it justice.
The part that really took my breath away was beyond the point where one should go on the path; of course, almost every single student in my program that went left climbed over the stone wall to venture a little further, see a little more.
We couldn't get enough of the view, and the further out we went, the more beautiful it became. Only three or four of us went out a few miles, but it was absolutely worth it. 
And for being forbidden, the path was pretty well traveled. Sometimes we basked in the moment together, and other times we silently agreed to take it all in alone, for a few minutes, climbing up at different speeds. It wasn't too windy, so I could distinctly hear the waves crashing 400 feet below. The drop was frightening, but stunning. The water was almost turquoise, and soon the sky cleared, turning a crystal clear blue, and the sun illumined the green hills further out. It was a scene of such breathtaking beauty that even remembering it now makes me feel at peace. Three of us, Marion, Colleen, and I, lay down on our backs on the grass near the cliff edge, at the furthest point we went out. I had never experienced calm that way; it was utterly quiet, with thousands of years of rock, grass, and ocean beneath us. We were half-covered in mud and couldn't care less. Marion and Colleen even rolled down one of the hills as I held their bags. The entire experience was a perfect balance of peaceful and liberating; we reluctantly headed back to the main area where, of course, a gorgeous flute was playing (a smart musician- knew just how generous tourists would be after experiencing the amazing cliffs!) and again assembled on the bus to continue our journey at noon. We drove through the Burren listening to Caroline's historic commentary. The landscape reminded me a lot of a lunar scene, just gray rocks everywhere you looked.
We arrived at the Connolly farm- John's grandparents farm, actually- at 1pm, stomachs grumbling. Most of us burned through that piece of toast pretty quickly running around on the cliffs and were ready for a good meal. But there was one obstacle- a mountain.
John met us again at the farm where we were toured around the barn. The cows were HUGE! And very shy- some animal lovers tried to pet them, and they shied away pretty quickly. The strong scent of silage was somewhat overpowering, so the barn tour didn't last too long. Outside, we all gazed at the large Burren mountain just beyond the farm, not knowing that in just a few minutes, we would be climbing it.
John lead us up a grass field and began to climb up the stones, stopping every once in a while to give us a brief bit of history or information about farm life. Now, imagine about forty city-kids hiking up a mountain; it was about as comical as you can imagine. Most of us climbed slowly, rock to rock, dumbfounded at how high and far he was taking us. "We're not stopping yet!?" John made us feel a bit worse when he told us that the cows make this journey multiple times a year.
At one point, he stopped at a small tree that had countless bits of cloth tied to its branches; he told us that it was customary to tie something to the tree to leave a problem behind. This custom is shared by many different cultures, he said, naming countries all over the world that shed their problems in a similar fashion, using a tree. How cool is that, unrelated cultures all sharing the same custom? It says something about human nature. Particularly that we take a lot of our problems out on trees. I tied my elastic band to a branch. I'm not sure what problem I was leaving behind, but I figured the tree would know which one to take care of.
Onward we climbed, exhausted, and hungry. But as we hiked higher and higher up, we were awarded with a spectacular view of the countryside, like a green quilt, a beach and the ocean in the distance. I thought I'd had my fill of beautiful scenery that day, but I was wrong. Finally, we reached the highest point, and John lead us down a much easier, grassy decent, back to the farm cottage, where a meal awaited us- a purely homemade farm lunch of the most delicious chicken and vegetable quiche, potato and pasta salads, brown bread, and apple pie. Everything was cooked by John's mother from ingredients grown/produced by the farm. After a day of climbing cliffs and a mountain, it was the most delicious, fresh, and satisfying meal I've ever eaten.
Afterward, they offered us Irish coffees and we packed ourselves into a cozy room where two of Caroline and John's neighbors, ages 11 and 16, played some traditional music for us on the fiddle and accordion. We took turns singing, starting with some traditional Irish songs, and then going on to sing anything we all knew the words to.
It was great fun; I whipped out Molly Malone again, and this time everyone knew when to sing along at the chorus. The best was the "Four and Nine" song that one of the neighbors sang; to this day we still sing that song together. I also did a reel for everyone as the boys played, completely made up on the spot of course, and I'm sure nothing to write home about, but it was great fun to show everyone what I could do, and just to dance to live music again.
We left the farm and arrived in Galway city at about 5:30pm. After checking into our next hostel and taking a much-needed nap, we changed for dinner and a night out in Galway, which was GREAT fun. Earlier, Caroline introduced us to the song Galway Girl on the bus, played it for us and printed up lyric sheets, so we took it on as the song of the trip, singing what lines we knew and humming the rest. But that night, one girl, Meghan, actually got the band that played at the first pub we were at to play Galway Girl and dedicate it to the Americans; even if it was just the group of us cheering and singing along, it was still incredibly exciting when we heard the first few notes of it play. Now, we can sing every word.
Clare and Galway
We departed DCU by bus at 12:30 in the afternoon on Friday, the 29th of January. Caroline, my History of Ireland lecturer, gave a brief introduction to the tour and what was to come as we drove through Dublin city; she and her cousin, John, own their own tour company called MacCoole Tours, so as you can imagine she is an extremely talented tour guide, so knowledgeable about everywhere we went. The best part about their tours is the personal touch, but I'll go into further detail about that later.
The first day was spent traveling. The most notable thing we did was stop at a gas station, and watch Wedding Crashers on the bus, but excitement for what was in store kept us all from any prospect of sleep. We pulled into Ennis town in County Clare at about 5pm when we separated into rooms of six at the hostel. After a brief change of outfits (okay... perhaps not brief... but it was intended to be that way!) we all met in a big, dark wood room in the hostel where some young musicians played some traditional music. From there we were lead to the restaurant/bar, into a room entirely to ourselves, which was certainly a good thing for the rest of the people eating; thirty-odd Americans tend to be a boisterous bunch. At dinner, we met John, Caroline's cousin and fellow-tourguide, and Lughaidh (Louis), their friend who helps out with the company. Since Lughaidh is from Ennis, he lead us around that night on a tour/pub crawl through various streets in the town. We had a great time walking around the pretty streets and exploring the quaint pub scene; everyone in the dim-lit pubs seemed to know each other, and everyone was friendly. Everywhere we went, big or small, was a great atmosphere.The next morning we awoke early, grabbed a slice of toast, and checked out of the hostel, departing Ennis at 9:30am. We were all pretty exhausted from the previous nights adventures, but as we drove on, the mood turned around. Without a doubt, this was one of the best days I've ever experienced.
The drive was very different from the previous day; everywhere we turned was scenic and absolutely beautiful, green hills and countryside for miles and miles. We gazed in awe at the scenery as we pulled up to the Cliffs of Moher, where we had a little over an hour to explore.
On the cliffs, you have two options; head to the right, and you'll ascend stone steps to the top of an absolutely breathtaking view; this is the route I took with my family six years earlier. Today, I wanted to take the more adventurous-albeit more dangerous- route, Go Left. The walk was stunning. Really, word's cannot describe it, and pictures barely do it justice.
The part that really took my breath away was beyond the point where one should go on the path; of course, almost every single student in my program that went left climbed over the stone wall to venture a little further, see a little more.
We couldn't get enough of the view, and the further out we went, the more beautiful it became. Only three or four of us went out a few miles, but it was absolutely worth it. 
And for being forbidden, the path was pretty well traveled. Sometimes we basked in the moment together, and other times we silently agreed to take it all in alone, for a few minutes, climbing up at different speeds. It wasn't too windy, so I could distinctly hear the waves crashing 400 feet below. The drop was frightening, but stunning. The water was almost turquoise, and soon the sky cleared, turning a crystal clear blue, and the sun illumined the green hills further out. It was a scene of such breathtaking beauty that even remembering it now makes me feel at peace. Three of us, Marion, Colleen, and I, lay down on our backs on the grass near the cliff edge, at the furthest point we went out. I had never experienced calm that way; it was utterly quiet, with thousands of years of rock, grass, and ocean beneath us. We were half-covered in mud and couldn't care less. Marion and Colleen even rolled down one of the hills as I held their bags. The entire experience was a perfect balance of peaceful and liberating; we reluctantly headed back to the main area where, of course, a gorgeous flute was playing (a smart musician- knew just how generous tourists would be after experiencing the amazing cliffs!) and again assembled on the bus to continue our journey at noon. We drove through the Burren listening to Caroline's historic commentary. The landscape reminded me a lot of a lunar scene, just gray rocks everywhere you looked.We arrived at the Connolly farm- John's grandparents farm, actually- at 1pm, stomachs grumbling. Most of us burned through that piece of toast pretty quickly running around on the cliffs and were ready for a good meal. But there was one obstacle- a mountain.
John met us again at the farm where we were toured around the barn. The cows were HUGE! And very shy- some animal lovers tried to pet them, and they shied away pretty quickly. The strong scent of silage was somewhat overpowering, so the barn tour didn't last too long. Outside, we all gazed at the large Burren mountain just beyond the farm, not knowing that in just a few minutes, we would be climbing it.
John lead us up a grass field and began to climb up the stones, stopping every once in a while to give us a brief bit of history or information about farm life. Now, imagine about forty city-kids hiking up a mountain; it was about as comical as you can imagine. Most of us climbed slowly, rock to rock, dumbfounded at how high and far he was taking us. "We're not stopping yet!?" John made us feel a bit worse when he told us that the cows make this journey multiple times a year.
At one point, he stopped at a small tree that had countless bits of cloth tied to its branches; he told us that it was customary to tie something to the tree to leave a problem behind. This custom is shared by many different cultures, he said, naming countries all over the world that shed their problems in a similar fashion, using a tree. How cool is that, unrelated cultures all sharing the same custom? It says something about human nature. Particularly that we take a lot of our problems out on trees. I tied my elastic band to a branch. I'm not sure what problem I was leaving behind, but I figured the tree would know which one to take care of.
Onward we climbed, exhausted, and hungry. But as we hiked higher and higher up, we were awarded with a spectacular view of the countryside, like a green quilt, a beach and the ocean in the distance. I thought I'd had my fill of beautiful scenery that day, but I was wrong. Finally, we reached the highest point, and John lead us down a much easier, grassy decent, back to the farm cottage, where a meal awaited us- a purely homemade farm lunch of the most delicious chicken and vegetable quiche, potato and pasta salads, brown bread, and apple pie. Everything was cooked by John's mother from ingredients grown/produced by the farm. After a day of climbing cliffs and a mountain, it was the most delicious, fresh, and satisfying meal I've ever eaten.
Afterward, they offered us Irish coffees and we packed ourselves into a cozy room where two of Caroline and John's neighbors, ages 11 and 16, played some traditional music for us on the fiddle and accordion. We took turns singing, starting with some traditional Irish songs, and then going on to sing anything we all knew the words to.
It was great fun; I whipped out Molly Malone again, and this time everyone knew when to sing along at the chorus. The best was the "Four and Nine" song that one of the neighbors sang; to this day we still sing that song together. I also did a reel for everyone as the boys played, completely made up on the spot of course, and I'm sure nothing to write home about, but it was great fun to show everyone what I could do, and just to dance to live music again.We left the farm and arrived in Galway city at about 5:30pm. After checking into our next hostel and taking a much-needed nap, we changed for dinner and a night out in Galway, which was GREAT fun. Earlier, Caroline introduced us to the song Galway Girl on the bus, played it for us and printed up lyric sheets, so we took it on as the song of the trip, singing what lines we knew and humming the rest. But that night, one girl, Meghan, actually got the band that played at the first pub we were at to play Galway Girl and dedicate it to the Americans; even if it was just the group of us cheering and singing along, it was still incredibly exciting when we heard the first few notes of it play. Now, we can sing every word.
The next morning was an adventure. The six of us in the room awoke at about 9:30 but stayed in bed just talking and laughing until suddenly, Colleen remembered she had read on the door that on the day you check out, you had to be out of the room at 10:30. It was 10:17. We all shrieked and leaped out of bed. Our clothes were everywhere, items missing, makeup and toiletries littering the sink. It was utter chaos. But we were champs; an impressive fifteen minutes later, we were dressed, packed, and ready to rock. Missing money, phones, and jewelry were found, and we checked out just five minutes late. I still have no idea how six girls managed to do that without someone getting seriously injured.
We had until 1pm to explore Galway city, so we grabbed a delicious breakfast in a coffee shop and walked around the beautiful streets, poking into different shops and experiencing Galway city during the day. I wish we had more time, and definitely hope to return someday.
The final stop of the tour was Clonmacnoise, an old monastery ruin in County Offaly. After watching the not-quite-cinematic masterpiece of an audio/visual about the history, we explored the old ruins for a bit, basking in the glorious sunshine that topped off the final day of our tour beautifully. I loved the Celtic crosses everywhere.
Our arrival in Dublin city was the first (and to this day still the last) time I was disappointed to be back. As exhausted as I was, I had fallen in love with Western Ireland, and wished for one more day to explore a new county, a new city. I can't wait to go back. We all joked about living there someday, but for me, I'm not sure how much of that was a joke. :)
We had until 1pm to explore Galway city, so we grabbed a delicious breakfast in a coffee shop and walked around the beautiful streets, poking into different shops and experiencing Galway city during the day. I wish we had more time, and definitely hope to return someday.
The final stop of the tour was Clonmacnoise, an old monastery ruin in County Offaly. After watching the not-quite-cinematic masterpiece of an audio/visual about the history, we explored the old ruins for a bit, basking in the glorious sunshine that topped off the final day of our tour beautifully. I loved the Celtic crosses everywhere.
Our arrival in Dublin city was the first (and to this day still the last) time I was disappointed to be back. As exhausted as I was, I had fallen in love with Western Ireland, and wished for one more day to explore a new county, a new city. I can't wait to go back. We all joked about living there someday, but for me, I'm not sure how much of that was a joke. :)
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