Ireland, (and a few other places) at LAST! Part 1: Galway, a few cliffs and a castle...

Dreams come true. Sounds like a Disney movie(actually, I think it IS a Disney movie, lol), but it's truth. Last month, a lifelong dream for me came true.

Ireland.

At LAST.

To say I was thrilled would be an understatement. I was also terrified, nervous as hell and ready to bolt. But on the morning of April 8th at 8:00am, my feet touched Irish soil at last. Then I had to drive to Galway. On the wrong side of the road. After no sleep for, oh about 24 hours or so. How do they prepare you for driving in a foreign country, backwards from everything you're used to?

Hertz agent: Well then, here are your keys. Mind the roundabouts. (points to a diagram on the windshield.) Safe travels.

Yeah, thanks for that, love. lol (Honestly he was very kind, even though my GPS never worked.)

It really wasn't so bad. On the main road. 

Irish drivers are fairly patient. Waaay more polite than even Minnesota drivers. I never once got flipped off, though I did glimpse a few eye rolls. Then I hit Galway. 

Which way do I turn? 

Why do all the signs have to be in Gaelic and then English? Yes, I am a big supporter of the Irish getting their heritage back, but now I am here and I need to find my goddamn B&B before I pass out. 

Why do the lights go yellow before they go green?! Okay, now I got that figured out, but why does everyone signal the wrong way? 

I gave up. And called the B&B. Now, I understand most Irish accents pretty well. But they are a couple where I am not even sure they are really speaking English or just pretending. 

The lady on the phone had one of the hard accents. And my phone was about to die. Oh, yay. 

Then I made out, 'Stay put and we'll come get you.'

A half an hour, and a fair amount of road work later, I was hauling my luggage out of the rental. (After I figured out how to open the trunk..boot...whatever.It finally gave up its secrets, so I don't care what it's name is.)

After an amazing late morning tea, courtesy of the sweetest host ever. (Mary O'Brien, I loved you at the first sip of coffee!)

It was off to explore Galway. Sans car. I took the bus. Much quicker. Trust me. 

It was GORGEOUS. Sunny, about 60 F. (there was snow on the ground when I left Duluth!) I was in heaven. Half the town was at harbour. People watching was fun. There were kayakers and parachuters. Everyone is very thin and seems to smoke a lot. And yes, lots of redheads. And lovely accents. I just sat on the harbour wall for hours and soaked in the sun.

I also had my first pint of Guinness in Ireland(tourist tip, it takes two pours to fill a pint properly, be patient!) This was at Brogan's, off the Galway town centre. 

Also overheard a couple of hilarious conversations in the pub:

"Yer bloody British, so shut it!"
"Its not British, its English. And I'm from Yorkshire, damnit."
"That's fucking worse."

Back at the B&B I talked politics with Mary's husband. A dangerous propostion in Ireland. He abused the English happily for a bit then laughed ruefully, "But sure if having our own in charge is much better. They're all crooks and thieves." 

Politics, I guess, is rather a universal language.

My hosts had a 'removal' to go to that night. My confused look must have said it all, so Mary said gently, "You'd say wake." I learned very quickly that the rites of family are a huge part of Irish culture. A few days later, I came upon a funeral procession, every car in the roadway pulled aside and stopped until the last car passed. Every time I turned around, someone was talking about a wedding, or a 'hen party' (the Irish version of a bachlerette party, which I gather is far move involved.)  

I hit the hay gratefully, sunburned, exhausted and happy. FYI, you go to Galway, stay at 

Anach Cuin Bed & Breakfast

The next day. More driving. Oh joy. I learned to despise tour buses. Loathe. Hate. I wanted to learn Gaelic just so I could swear at them properly. See, Irish roadways put new meaning to the word 'NARROW'. 

Tour bus drivers don't care, they fly down themost hemmed in sheep path and you either head for the diitch or end up smeared on their windshields. 

I took a break for sanity's sake on a mountainside overlooking the Burrens. This somewhat desolate but lovely land is has more of an effect that pictures con convey. Deep, peaceful and contemplative. All is right with the world. 

And enterprise is still a part of it, even way out here. These Irish kids were waiting in a look out point, and as soon as I excited my car, they started playing. They were quite good, too.

A few tour buses and cursewords later, I had arrived at my destination. Words fail me. I used this place as a pivotal scene in one of my books. But seeing it in real life...breathtaking doesn't even cover it.

The Cliffs of Moher(with a side of O'Brien's Tower)

There is beautiful and then there is make-your-heart-hurt happy, drop-dead right now and I-wouldn't even-care gorgeous. The Cliffs of Moher is both. The other side of that ocean laps on America's shores. It was surreal in the extreme.

Me and my thumb were very happy!

On the way to the Cliffs, in between fearing for my life, I had noted a cute little town and my first castle! (sqee!) On the way back, I stopped.  The town is Kinvara and the castle is Dunguaire. The first shots of the Easter Rising were said to be fired at Kinvara, but it is a peaceful spot these days.

Legend says if you ask a question at the gate of the tower, you'll have your answer by day's end. No, I didn't ask, but if I did, would I tell you? :)

Next stop: Donegal, more castles and the North.