Cullan McNamara
Dates: September 11-18, 2017
Destination: Republic of Ireland
Travel Buddy: Kevin McNamara (Dad)
Part One: Day 1 (with updates from Day 3/4)

The delusional are not those who dream - they're those who give up.

Sept. 14, 2017 - Leaving Galway on Day 3

It's Thursday, and I've neglected to write anything since we arrived on Tuesday morning. My father and I are finally taking our long awaited trip to the motherland. We arrived around 4:30 AM, picked up our rental car around 5:00, and we took to Dublin. Sadly, I'd be lying if I said it were that easy. We had to find the rental car place then deal with the fact we'd accidentally chosen a manual. Now, we can both drive stick, but we weren't going to try doing it on the opposite side of the vehicle... while driving on the opposite side of the road. Too many factors. Plus, it cost $40 more a day to switch to an automatic. Why? They only had a Jaguar left. Plus plus, it cost an additional 40 some dollars to add insurance for a minor to drive. I'm 22. So, only my dad drives on this trip. Sorry, Dad.

Anyway, my father got his baptism by fire driving from the airport to the center of Dublin. We parked around half past six and quickly stopped in a coffee shop. On account of being awake and traveling for 24 hours, coffee was a necessity. A place called Spar supplied just that and WiFi to plan our day. It went like this: stroll through Dublin, mostly the Temple Bar district, visit the Guinness Storehouse, see Christ Church Cathedral, tour Trinity College, and test out the numerous pubs in the area. Lastly, we had to find a place to sleep. With all hotels and hostels nearby being booked, we turned to AirBnB.

UPDATE

We're currently on the road to the Cliffs of Moher, so I'm apologizing to my future self for the sloppy handwriting. It's probably gonna be hard to read, but at least I finally got a tangible travel journal. The road we're on is called N67, the Wild Atlantic Way - it in itself is a sight with amazing views. Sadly, my father is so focused on the thin, curvy roads that he hasn't seen most of it. "I should've gotten more insurance," he jokes as we're literally run off the road into bushes by a ballsy truck driver. We pull off for a break.

ANYWAY

We booked a place at 76 The Coombe. It wasn't the best area, but it was local, and more importantly, there was a bed. Step one was complete. Next problem. What do we do at 7 AM before anything opens? Easy! Walk around.... The city is beautiful - it has a river running through it, which I find is often the case in well-known cities. It's bursting with color and character. My father and I strolled aimlessly for a while, once meeting the river, then we toured Trinity College, unguided. The college had a beautiful square in its center and tress that appeared mythical in size. We only stayed for a moment, but it was an obvious must see.

After that, we made our way to the Dublin Castle. Too early for admission, we soldiered on to Christ Church Cathedral. This place was truly gorgeous. We paid and entered to find a man hand-repairing the intricate tile flooring. My dad and I soon split to investigate our different interests. He was amazed by the tombs, I by the architecture. I slowly moved toward the alter, taking pictures as I went. A priest silently completed his duties as he maneuvered around visitors. The artifacts and stained glass were bright, multicolored, and awe-inspiring. It was silent, except for the muffled whispers of tourists, until a young woman began playing the organ. The priest put out a few candles - I continued.

My dad and I finished meandering, sat down, and we each said a prayer. Upon exiting, we remembered about our Guinness Storehouse tour. I guess it was only natural we go there right after church... it is Dublin after all.

UPDATE

We just left the Cliffs of Moher on our way to Bunratty in search of P. Mac Namara & Son Bar. I wish I would've started keeping track of all this earlier. It's tough jumping around. Still, I'm glad I finally have initiative. The Cliffs were unlike everything I've ever seen. Around 200m tall, they drop off into a crashing eb and flow of waves dancing against the rock. The wind was so strong that it carried spray from the waves up along the cliff-face, over the edge, then back down on all who stood there. Seeing water move upwards in a type of cyclone may be the strangest thing I'll ever see.

My dad and I first went left on the trail so that we could look back at the stone lookout tower. Our backs were to the sun. It was a beautiful day, but the sun was not helping with my photography. I walked the edge while my father struggled to watch - he was in total fear of my impending doom. I took photos looking toward the tower until my dad couldn't take it, and we began to head that way. We arrived at the steps to the castle to my dad's dissatisfaction.

"Okay - this is me... you go ahead," he said, struggling to catch a breath.

"No. You'll regret this if you don't get up there. There are only a few more sets of stairs - you're a third of the way there! Plus, it's probably free to go to the top."

"I'm not gonna make it."

"Too bad. I guess you'll find out. You'll be happy you did this."

With that, the two of us started upward. To be fair, it wasn't the easiest of hikes. After some breaks for his lungs and my photos, we paid four euro to get to the top of the stone tower to see the Cliffs on either side. The view was endless in each direction. To the West was the sea, Cliffs to the North and South, Liscannor to the East. The wind was shockingly strong in the tower, but not on top, so I shot a healthy amount of good photos.

The Cliffs are emerald green on top with paths that have no guard from certain death. The rock walls are mostly black and grey, with some green growth, and they seem rather eternal. We headed toward the visitor center next. I was in complete awe, but I knew this pushed my father's comfort zone. While he appreciated the beauty, he is afraid of extreme heights - he is also still getting back in shape. His smoking doesn't help with that.

In the center, we purchased a soda and sat down before our drive to Bunratty. We were a few seats from a man we didn't really seem to notice.

"So, where are we going?" my father asked.

"Bunratty, to see P. Mac Namara & Son Bar. On Friday we'll go to Killarney to the Gap of Dunloe and Blarney Castle to kiss the Stone."

"Cork is beautiful, but it's just a city," the random man interrupted. "You need to do the Ring of Kerry. If you think those Cliffs are Irealnd, the Ring is Ireland."

"Ring of Kelly?"

"Dad, the Ring of Kerry."

“They all said, ‘Galway. Go to Galway.’ So, I listened to them.”

"Right - what's that?"

The man scooched closer in his chair, "I'm German, but I've been here for over 20 years as a tour guide. The Ring of Kerry is what you want to see. But, make sure you follow the buses. It'll make your life a lot easier. The Ring is a beautiful drive with amazing views of the ocean and mountains."

"What about the Gap of Dunloe?" I asked.

"Well, that's in Killarney, where you'd begin the Ring. You could do that as well, I suppose. Where'd you last come from?"

"Galway!" my father and I said in unison.

"Galway? You should've never left! I came to Ireland on holiday when I was young, and I asked every Irishman where I should go. They all said, 'Galway. Go to Galway.' So, I listened to them. I once took a bus to Galway on the first day of a tour of Ireland. The next day, they got on the bus and asked if they could change the tour. We ended up spending six more days in Galway, haha!"

"Trust me, it was hard to leave this morning," my father responded. He was right - it was. "Has anyone died on these cliffs?"

"Oh, yeah. It's a popular place for suicide. I think there are easier ways, but what do I know. And, sometimes because of corrosion, people get too close to the edge, and the ground comes out from beneath them!"

"Holy hell," I said as my dad shook his head. "So, you live here now?"

"Oh, yeah. When I was on holiday in Galway, I met my wife that first night. We married three months later, and now it's been 26 years."

"Haha! What's your name?"

"Klaus - pleased to meet you."

"Cullan," I said as we shook hands.

"Kevin, and thank you for the advice."

"No problem. I better get back to my Germans!" We waved goodbye, then we too departed for Bunratty.

ANYWAY

Back to Dublin. We just left Christ Church Cathedral and began the journey to the Guinness Storehouse. It was a bit of a walk but enjoyable for me at least. I'm sure my dad would've cabbed twice as much without me. Being that he just turned 60, he's a smoking addict, and he's extremely out of shape, I'm not surprised. The walking is good for him. We incrementally started to see signs for the Storehouse, and our anticipation revived. Sadly, I didn't realize our reservations were actually made for the day before. I messed up. But, upon arrival, our tickets were accepted!

The entrance and main floor consisted of what? A gift shop. Merchandising bonanza, it was. It was like Disneyland for beer. We moved through it and began our self-guided tour. The process of making Guinness was explained so thoroughly that I can't remember it at all two days later. I do know that Guinness in Ireland tastes way better than in the States. It's so smooth, light - it's flavorful instead of bitter. At the top of the Storehouse, we had our "complimentary" pint and saw a 360° view of Dublin. Was it worth it? Yeah... I'd have to say it was pretty damn cool.

As I sit in a B&B in Bunratty, I struggle to remember where we headed next. Did we go back downtown? Did we head to our AirBnB? My mind has processed so much in the past few days it's clogged, moving slowly. I sip coffee as I think.

Aha! I remember! Maybe it was the food, maybe the coffee. We started back for our car at the Park Rite on Fleet Street. My father quickly hailed a cab, and I seconded his notion this time around. Our driver was from China, last name Zheng, and small talk consisted until arrival. We exited toward the car park. Our newly rented Jaguar waited for us on the first floor.

"So... nap time? At least until we can check into the AirBnB?"

"Yeah. Let's do it," my dad responded.

With that, the two of us got in the vehicle, moved the seats back, and laid them down. It was a spacious vehicle. Great for naps, not great for tight driving in Ireland. We both peacefully snoozed for about an hour and a half. When we awoke, we groggily began to animate and went next door to Gogarty's. It was a nice little pub, though obviously mainly touristic. The live, traditional Irish music was uplifting and brought us back to life. My father ordered Guinness, I a coffee, and we revived our spirits before heading to our AirBnB.

“Don’t get skin to stone! Go ahead and kiss it, but don’t actually kiss it, ya know?”

Back to the car. Grab the bags. Hail a cab. Get to a bed. Take another nap. That was our plan.

"76 The Coombe? The cab driver asked. "Do you even know where you're going? Have you seen pictures? It may not even have a shower, haha!"

"Oh, great," my father said, clearly disappointed in my first choice of accomodation.

"What're your plans here in Ireland? You're better off getting the hell out of Dublin!"

"We want to see the Cliffs of Moher, visit the Gap of Duloe...."

"And kiss the Blarney Stone!" my father interjected.

"That old rock? Don't get skin to stone! Go ahead and kiss it, but don't actually kiss it, ya know?"

"Why?"

"Germs, of course! Who knows what's on that thing." He was probably right, but he essentially crushed our dreams.

"Here you are, 76 The Coombe," he scoffed. "You know this used to be a hospital? Real rough area now...." he departed with those encouraging words.

I hopelessly looked at the door, not knowing which number to ring. I soon gave up and called Luis our host. He came down and brought us up. Luis is Venezuelan, brought here with his Venezuelan girlfriend who works in the hospitality business. He too is studying the industry.

Luis's home was small, but it was welcoming and cozy. Our room had a nice, large bed. It was easily one of the comfiest I'd ever been on, dare I say life changing. It was a private room with a shared bathroom. This was my dad's first AirBnB experience, and he was actually happily surprised. Little did he know, our accommodations would become more impressive as the days progressed. To be fair, I didn't know either. The past three days, we've been lucky to find such nice homes on the day of.

We laid our baggage down and immediately laid ourselves on the bed. My dad is not overly active, so he fell asleep in a moment due to exhaustion from all the physical activity (walking.) I had more trouble being that he was snoring like a freight train. I let my body relax for about 30 minutes before hopping in the shower. After the plane ride, this was a much needed luxury. It concluded, I awoke my father, and we took off toward Temple Bar.

We had a hard time finding a cab, but this provided us the special opportunity of running into Shanahan's on The Coombe. Shanahan's Bar was only a few minutes walk from Luis's in the more local area of Dublin. We entered to a wonderful little place with one bartender and only about six or seven patrons. My father and I sat just in front of the abnormally large taps.

"What'll it be, gentleman?"

"Guinness for me," Dad said.

"Make it two."

"You got it, boys. Where're you lads from?"

"The States - Michigan. We're McNamaras and wanted to find some of our heritage in County Clare."

"Ahh, yes - there are loads of McNamaras there. Where else ya going?"

"We were told to get the hell out of Dublin, so we're thinking Blarney and Cork to the south, then the Cliffs of Moher near Liscannor, and follow the Wild Atlantic Way up to Galway, then back," I explained.

"Does that sound good?" my dad cautiously asked.

"Well, I think you should start in Galway. It's a straight shot across, then you can go down the west coast and around. You may not want to leave Galway, anyway!"

UPDATE

I had no clue how mountainous the island of Ireland is. The west coast is littered with them. We just finished seeing the Gap of Dunloe, we're currently on the Ring of Kerry, and gorgeous mountains and rivers rise and flow through the entire land. And, it's so green. Emerald green lies everywhere, cut up by lines of hedges and stone walls. I'm not getting into the Gap of Dunloe yet, but I had to mention the beauty of the area around the Ring of Kerry (and really the whole west side.)

ANYWAY

“‘So, has anyone... ya know....’
’Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. Right here.’
’On this street?’
’No - right here,’ Billy reiterated as he pointed to the bar top.”

"Sorry, what's your name?" my father inquired of the barman.

"Billy," he said extending his right hand, though he kept his pinkie and ring finger folded into his palm. "And yours, gentleman?"

"Kevin!"

"Cullan!"

"Cullan? Now, that's my nephew's name that is! Very good to meet you, lad, very good! Well, if you need anything, let me know."

Billy was easily one of the most interesting bartenders we'd ever met. We'd clearly come to a good local place. My dad nearly keeled over when he saw a man enter and retrieve a newspaper from Billy. Locals came to this pub to relax and read the paper! Plus, it was an actual paper, which seem nonexistent these days.

"So, is this a good area?" my dad asked after Billy tended to his regulars.

"Oh, it's gotten much worse over the years. The drug epidemic in Dublin began in these parts just down the road."

"So, has anyone... ya know...."

"Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. Right here."

"On this street?"

"No - right here," Billy reiterated as he pointed to the bar top.

"Someone's been shot right here!" my dad asked in shock.

"Yes, sir. We've seen bad times as of late. But, the community and this bar deeply care for each other. They give us business, and we allow them to use the bar for events and celebrations for free. They just pay for drinks."

"Well, at least that's good. I love that - it's a community," I responded.

Billy was a most gracious host. Whenever he wasn't tending to the locals, he was conversing with us. We spoke of politics, Trump, President Clinton, the Gaelic Athletic Association, and swapped stories of our two communities. Because my dad's a township supervisor, he loves talking about politics and was obsessed with learning about the GAA. And, obviously, we talked about beer.

"You know, Guinness tastes so much better here," my dad said.

"Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. It's delivered from just down the road, then we let the kegs sit for seven days to settle before we pour. I'll tell you one thing, we have the best pour in Dublin."

“Whatever you do, find yourself in a pub on Sunday.”

Billy wasn't wrong. His pints were aesthetic, had the perfect layer of foam, and they tasted the best I've ever had. Shanahan's made it feel like we were home. It almost wasn't worth it to go to the tourist-ridden Temple Bar district, but we did have to go to the Temple Bar before we left the city.

"Will you be back in Dublin Sunday?"

"We don't know - should we be?" my father answered.

"Whatever you do, find yourself in a pub on Sunday. The biggest football match in the country is happening. The cursed Mayo vs the hated Dublin. Mayo hasn't won in 60 years, so they have a lot of support. You better be in a bar Sunday!"

"Okay - it's settled then," my dad affirmed. "Maybe we'll make it back here."

"You'd be very welcome, gentlemen. Very welcome."

We spoke with Billy for hours until we felt obligated to head to the center. We bade farewell to our new friend and began our walk. Thanks to the beer, we were no longer bothered by the distance or the chill. We visited the packed Temple Bar, drank, and listened to live Irish music until hunger struck us. It was a pretty cool bar to be fair, but we'd probably been out drinking for a total of five to seven hours at that point, so we moved down the street to the The Quay's Bar & Restaurant (pronounced The Keys) for drunk food.

A nice gentleman led us to our tables and noted our fish & chips and bangers & mash order. In that moment, I actually felt like a tourist.

"But, do you know where you're at? This is Dublin. You don't want a pint?"

"We definitely need food, haha," I responded.

"Ahh, I could tell you were a bit sloshed."

We consumed our meals with the pace of cavemen and started to leave. My dad made it out, but I stopped and spoke with our waiter.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

"Michigan! We're here on holiday touring the country. What's your name?"

"Patty. Patty the Irishman they call me, haha. Of course my name is Patty, right?"

"Well, mine is Cullan. Nice to meet you!"

"Cullan? That's my nephew's name! Is that from Cu Chulainn?"

"Yeah - it is! I'm glad you know that. Not many others do."

Patty lit up at this knowledge, "You'll have to come back Sunday for the game if you're around - I'd love to chat more!"

"It'd be my pleasure," I said shortly before departing.

I met with my father, and we headed to our accommodations for the night. After a fantastic conversation with Luis and playing his guitar, we took to sleep. This sleep was much needed.

HIGHLIGHTS

Places Visited:
Day One

Travel Journal #1: Ireland (Part One)

Cullan McNamara Film & Photo

Travel Journal #1: Ireland (Part One)

Travel Journal #1: Ireland (Part Two)

Why I Won't Have Regrets

Cullan McNamara Film & Photo