Arran Islands

Wednesday we finally went to Galway! We got up early and caught the bus into the city centre, hurried to an internet shop where we could print off our bus tickets, then made it to the Liffey where the bus would pick us up with just enough time for Dale to do a quick Starbucks run. There was internet access on the bus so Dale and I had a little fun with helpx and personality tests until I started to feel sick. It was with relief that we finally arrived and wandered around Eyre Square until we found our hostel a little further away and without much trouble but a little misting of rain. We shared an 8 bed-dorm in Sleepzone, where there were no lockers in the room and we had to spend 9 euros for the three days on lockers by reception. The majority of the day we spent wandering the town and visiting gift and jewellery shops, both of which contained a plethora of claddagh rings. We learned in the little claddagh ring museum that the more common the claddagh ring is the more successful because the King of England had demanded one, so the jeweller, in defiance, then sold hundreds of the same ring throughout Galway.

A street in Galway

Galway Autism Partnership

We walked “the old long walk” from the famous song “Galway Girl,” and even visited a quiet gallery where the young artist told us personally about her bone carvings, which she turns into necklaces. Bone carving is one of the oldest forms of jewellery. She even had a giant wale jaw her uncle had found on the beach for her, but most of her work comes from a very cheap source—beef bones from the local butcher. After a while we decided to find a pub, settling on The King’s Head. We ate dinner in front of the 400 year-old fireplace and between the two of us got through a few Bulmers, a pitcher of Sex-on-the-Beach, and a Bailey’s and hot chocolate. Our conversation turned existential as the stars came out, so we wandered by the River Corrib, where there was a crowd around a sailboat with its sails projected with purple light for autism . Then we passed the grand university before deciding to turn in, too exhausted to visit any clubs.

Inishmore of the Arran Islands

My cute bicycle (yes, I had a helmet)

We woke early the next day, ready to head to the Arran Islands. It took a bus and a ferry to get to the largest island, Inishmore, where life is supposed to have continued “the old way,” including the continued use of the Irish language. The ferry itself was very small; we sat on the upper deck, where it was cold but at least overcast. As soon as we arrived on Inishmore we found a toilet, then rented bicycles for 10 euros each. My slight anxiety about cycling was distracted by delight at finding an old-fashioned, pale blue bike with a basket. The weather turned sunny as we made our way past the few buildings that made up the village and carried on uphill, passing rolling green fields with stone walls separating them into many portions. Eventually we found an old graveyard with the pale blue ocean on the left, and the fields with the stone walls zigzagging across them on the right. The geography of the island was so varied that there was always something to look at. We enjoyed a stop on the white, sandy beach, the stony burren-like hill-top, and ate a tiny, thatch-roofed café.

A beautiful graveyard

The fort Dun Aonghasa

The cliffs

Lunch at the cafe

Inside the café I was very confused when a man came up to the counter and started saying gibberish to the lady who worked there, before I realized he was speaking Irish. It really is the strangest language I’ve ever heard. We took our sandwiches to go, and they ended up not even having ham on them. We locked our bikes up, and started to walk up the 3 euro trail to Dun Aonghasa, a prehistoric stone fort built on top of a 100 metre cliff. The fort is dated around 1100BC, and the cliffs reminded me of a smaller, but still beautiful version of the Cliffs of Moher. I found myself caught by a strange feeling: that the old inhabitants were so ancient, and yet so relatable since their relatives are likely still living on the island, that I couldn’t grasp how distant they really were. Before going up to the fort we stopped to visit an older lady who was selling the famous Arran Island sweaters that sell for such terribly high prices. She explained to us that some people call her hats, “Toques,” and others, “Beanies,” which made Dale and I laugh as we explained that we were, “Toques.”

Feeling tall at the churches. Dale also has a great shot of me falling down right after this.

Dale wanted to cycle the entire length of the island—14km—so we carried on, stopping only to visit the ruins of the seven churches, which are all practically on top of each other, pat a horse, and breathe; we were uphill and downhill until we had to start walking the bikes on the ups, only passing a car or tractor here and there. It was a truly gorgeous day. Unfortunately, our return trip was not as pleasant. We decided to head for the Worm-Hole, a natural square hole in the ocean which creates a square waterfall. The route took us far off the paved roads and into large-stoned gravel. We started running out of time before the last ferry of the day, and still ended up missing the Worm-Hole. The road got so bad that my bike rattled like it was going to fall apart. I ended up strapping my belongings into the basket using the band from my jacket. Before the end, I was so exhausted and terrified from the rocky downhill segments that I ended up not repeating, “Feck!” as the Irish do, but the less-polite version. I nearly lost control of my bike as the tire was burried in rocks so many times with the road never ending, that I eventually let a tear fall. This was not the first time back on a bicycle after breaking my cheekbone that I had envisioned. We finally made it back to the coast as the owner of the bicycle shop was closing up, then raced to the ferry with only five minutes to spare. Collapsing into the last seats available, Dale turned to me and said, “Was that the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do? ’Cause it was for me.” I fell into near-hysterical giggles of relief.

We bought pizza from Dominoe’s almost the second we got back, eating them in the square as rain started to fall. Then we went into the nearest pub for a pint before calling it a very tiring day. We had no choice but to shower, a roommate lightening his load by offering me his ipod speakers for free while Dale took his turn. I slept like a rock until 6am, when an alarm suddenly started blaring over my head. There was confusion in the room as someone suggested that it was the fire-alarm, but when we opened the door to our room we found that there was nothing sounding in the hallway. Someone ran down to reception while we opened a window; the room was stifling. The hostel-worked came in and yanked the alarm straight out of the ceiling and said, “It’s just the humidity in here.” “Well, nice to meet you all,” I said to the room. “Round two.” We all chuckled and climbed back into bed. Then the alarm sounded in the next room. The girl nearest to the door went over and explained to them to open the window and pull out the alarm.

A view of "The Long Walk"

We spent a good chunk of the day watching animals

We had to check out by 9:30 the next day, so we didn’t feel too rested. The two of us spent the entire day wandering the streets, the Salthill Promenade, the bridge out to Mutton Island, which really led no where, and eating candy and 99 icecreams by the ocean and the old Spanish Arch. We did manage to wander into the museum, but couldn’t bring ourselves to care much with the sun outside. Then we took the bus home, watching “How I Met Your Mother” until the laptop died.

A hilarious ad at a bus stop

On Saturday after work Anne and Heather had been enjoying a few drinks in the decent weather, so they pulled Dale and I in, pouring us shots of an unknown drink from Amsterdam that burned on the way down. The two of them were great entertainment. I laughed until my eyes watered as they beat each other with a rolled-up mat from Eurostar until Anne crashed and the rest of us followed suit. Work the next day was almost completely unnecessary, which Heather and I did not want to hear as we arrived very tired, only to be sent home after three hours. I spent the rest of the day reading, on helpx, and playing guitar out in the sun. Then KT and Becca arrived from their Europe trip for their last two nights in Dublin before going back to Canada. They brought their friend Ashley along as well, so the house was extremely crowded. Heather slept on the couch by us while the other three shared her room. We talked and laughed that night, but I still had to work the next day.

After work I killed an hour with Katie and a pint at the Porterhouse, then met up with the girls at the DART while Dale continued to work. We went to Howth so Becca could say goodbye to her host family, and showed Ashley the start of the Howth hike. We could see rain falling heavily across the ocean, so we hurried back down the hill and took shelter in a café before going back to Dublin for Fitz. The rain and sun took turns all afternoon, so we holed up in Fitz by the fireplace. I eventually needed a coffee just to stay awake and realized I would not be able to last the night like I wanted to. I had to work the next day regardless, but it was the girls’ last night so I stayed as long as I could manage. I gave KT and Becca a quick hug each and insisted they come to stay with us when they visit BC sometime soon, which I would love! They left about an hour after I did the next morning.

After work on Tuesday all I wanted to do was sleep. Dale had the keys since he had to work and someone was going to be home, but no one answered the door. I was locked out for almost two hours while Heather was crashed upstairs so solidly that she couldn’t hear me ringing the doorbell or calling her. It was half funny and half horrible because I was so very tired. Eventually Anne came home and I started booking our trip to Cork for that very night instead of the next one. I thought I could at least nap on the bus, and we splurged on a private room so I figured this could be my chance to really sleep. I couldn’t wait any longer for it. The second Dale got home we took off, barely managing to print off our tickets at the same internet café as before Galway, and catching the bus.

We even solidified a helpx host on the drive! If all goes well we will be helping to renovate, garden, and watch the kids for a family in southern France next month. Their home has ruins nearby, as well as prehistoric cave paintings. Then I promptly fell asleep for at least an hour and a half and woke up as we arrived in Cork. I had the impression of at least three-story dark buildings on all sides, some leading up steep hills, which is unusual in Ireland. We found our hostel, Sheila’s, which offers deals at a few restaurants in town, including a pizza place from which we ordered in. We have a tiny bunk-bedded room with a private bathroom, which is perfect. In conclusion, I felt amazing today after a solid eleven or so hours of uninterrupted sleep, the likes of which I can’t even remember.