Travel Journal #1: Ireland (Part Three)
Cullan McNamara
Dates: September 11-18, 2017
Destination: Republic of Ireland
Travel Buddy: Kevin McNamara (Dad)
Part One: Day 3 (with post-trip updates)
“Another busy day, huh? Well, we better get moving.”
Sept. 14, 2017 - Galway to Bunratty
UPDATE
Well, I'm still sitting in our local Starbucks. I actually got some writing done. Only four more days left to add to this account of our adventures. Then, hopefully someone will read this. If not, I'll be happy to look back on this personally and share it with family. Maybe I'll release this as a blog....
ANYWAY
The Wild Atlantic Way, IR
"Good morning, son."
"Mornin'."
"What's on the agenda today?"
"Well... I don't think either of us really want to, but we should probably go downtown before we head out to look for gifts. I'd really like a wool sweater, a journal, and maybe some type of band or bracelet for Meg."
"Yeah - you're probably right.... Do you like to go shopping?"
"It depends I guess. Not really - I usually know what I'm looking for and just go for that. So, I like shopping with a goal in mind."
"Me too, but we better look around at least. Aida wants a large sweater, and I want to get her a Claddagh ring."
"What's that?"
"You don't know Claddagh?" he asked, clearly appalled. "Your mother would know what it is. It's a ring design they make here in Ireland - I bet they have some here in Galway."
"Alright - we'll do that then head down to Bunratty in County Clare, where our ancestors are from. It's smaller than Ennis, so it should be a bit cheaper to stay, and it's farther south. That puts us on track to Killarney, and there's a castle in Bunratty! Before we get there, though, we're gonna take the Wild Atlantic Way to the Cliffs of Moher."
"Good Lord. Another busy day, huh? Well, we better get moving."
We geared up for the day, left our lodgings, and started off toward downtown. Our first stop was at the nearest coffee shop to fuel up. "Gotta have my morning coffee - it's a ritual!" my father would say. As a fellow coffee-fanatic, I wasn't upset. We posted up at a corner table outside and ordered two caffe americanas. The two of us sat, sipped, and spoke for probably 45 minutes. It was a long but necessary start to the day. Next came the shopping.
We weaved through the crowded Galway streets, stopping ever so often to snap a photograph. Our first stop was a book shop. I figured they'd have to sell journals inside. My father smoked as I investigated, and to my delight, they had a wonderful shelf on the back wall dedicated to journals and notebooks. I fingered through them, having difficulty deciding between the moleskin or Lonely Planet notebooks. It was a tough choice until I looked at the prices: moleskin notebook, 17 euro; Lonely Planet notebook, 7 euro; recording precious memories, priceless. Sorry, I couldn't resist. Needless to say, I bought the less expensive and equally as nice product. I met my dad outside, and we continued.
“It was obviously to impress tourists, but it totally worked.”
I entered another bookshop to purchase a good pen, which by now has completely disappeared. I now use a mediocre one that I discovered in my pack. It was my father's turn, and he stopped in a jewelry shop that specialized in Claddagh. He took his time picking out the right design and stone only to realize he didn't know my step-mother's ring size. The employee instructed him that seven was a good guess that could easily get resized. He made his first purchase, and we were off.
Journal? Check. Pen? Check. Claddagh ring? Check. Wool sweater? On deck. Enticed by a magnificent street performer, we stopped where three roads met before continuing. She had dark hair, wore a green dress and beautiful smile, and she tap danced along to some Irish music. It was obviously to impress tourists, but it totally worked.
"She has to make a killing doing this," I said.
"Oh, I'm sure she does, but I'm gonna drop a few shillings in the hat, anyway. We'll wait till this song's over."
"Euro, Dad. Not shillings."
"Same thing, haha!"
With that, we waited, and we watched. He did as he said and dropped a few euro coins in her green hat, then we departed to our last stop. We sifted through wool sweaters for some time before going next-door where the better deals were. Eventually, he purchased a large, cream-colored wool sweater for his wife. I haven't seen her wear it since we've been home, but it's extremely hot for September in Michigan.
“The beautiful landscapes were endless and so were the dangerously tight roads.”
Finally, it was time to get to the car. We'd been carrying our baggage throughout the entire shopping experience, so we were ready for a break. Remember my very first update on page two? (In this case, the first blog post.) We're finally there. In it, I describe the beginning of our trip from Galway to the Cliffs. Check back if you need a refresher.
We didn't know how much we'd see on the Wild Atlantic Way, but it was more than we'd expected. The beautiful landscapes were endless and so were the dangerously tight roads. We drove for a while before taking a break at Dunguaire Castle, the first we'd stopped at on our trip. It was modest for a castle, though still impressive. It's nestled on a little grassy point and surrounded by water. We went straight in through the archway to see what the gift shop had to offer - I was still on the hunt for Meg's souvenir. On the second floor, my search concluded.
I found the exact type of bracelet I wanted. It was a thin armband, black and gold in color, and it had a Celtic design. All the shopping was done and could now by pushed out of our minds.
"Wanna go upstairs, check it out?" my father inquired.
"Six euro each? We don't have to. It's cool just being on the grounds."
"Twelve euros is nothing. C'mon - let's go inside."
"I'm just trying to be money-conscious and make sure we have enough, ya know? I'm not used to traveling like this. I'm always on a budget," I concluded, laughing.
“You’d have to maneuver between the roof and stone walls by shuffling sideways because it’s so tight.”
"If it makes you feel better, we're only over budget because of the car. And, that was stupid. We were tired - that guy tried to screw us over...."
"I'm sure that wasn't his plan."
"Point is, we're doing just fine. Now, let's go!"
Dunguaire Castle, IR
We wound our way up the thin, spiral staircase, my dad stopping to check out the first floor, and I moving all the way to the top. You could see for miles in each direction. Rolling green hills, stone, and a little town on the water that had a nice port were visible on the west side. At least, I think it was on the west side. You could squeeze all the way around the rooftop. You'd have to maneuver between the roof and stone walls by shuffling sideways because it's so tight. When my dad arrived, he was worried he wouldn't fit. Nonetheless, we went all the way 'round when he arrived as I took pictures. We went down the few floors one by one until we were eventually back on the road.
View from Dunguaire Castle, IR
My dad white-knuckled it for the continuation of the drive. The ludicrous roads didn't relent until the Cliffs, but my dad didn't make it that far before taking one more smoke break. This part of the road was easily the toughest. It snaked through the side of a mountain, moving upward. Passing a bus on one of the 180° u-turns would be way too risky, so we stopped at a small pull-off on the left.
My father lit his cigarette, and we both stood silent for a moment to look at the towns and sea below. It seemed as if every sight here was breathtaking. I walked back to the car to grab my camera and lenses.
"So, this is an 18 to 135mm lens," I explained, demonstrating the zoom. "It gives you extremely versatile range - it's good for extreme wide-shots and extreme close-ups. It's like an all-in-one. But, this is my 75-300mm lens. This is awesome for wildlife and other long distance shots," I continued as I switched lenses.
"Let me take a look," my father replied, extending his hand. I gave him the camera, and he surveyed the landscape. He snapped a seemingly random photo here and there then handed it back. "Very cool, son. I guess we should hit the road," he said as he flicked the cigarette butt.
“I forgot something! I guess I’m not the reliable narrator/writer I’d like to be. But, we all make mistakes, and I’ve made a dire omission.”
The rest of the drive is a blur, probably because I rarely looked up as I wrote in my journal. Next thing I knew, we were pulling into a large car park in some pasture lands. The pastures on the right moved at an upward incline, so it was clear those would be the Cliffs. We paid, parked, and made our way to the sight. "The Cliffs were unlike anything I've ever seen. Around 200m tall, they drop off into a crashing ebb and flow of waves, dancing against the rock." This, I wrote in my page 5-12 update, on page 6 (the first blog post.) It truly was amazing. We toured the Cliffs, had our unique conversation with Klaus, then made our way to Bunratty.
I forgot something! I guess I'm not the reliable narrator/writer I'd like to be. But, we all make mistakes, and I've made a dire omission. Lisdoonvarna. That was the name of the town we'd stopped at about 15 minutes north-east of the Cliffs. So, it was after my dad and I stopped at the lookout spot and just before we arrived at the Cliffs.
We pulled off in the absurdly crowded, though tiny, town for one reason. We saw a pub called McNamara's The Irish Arms. There was a single spot left on the street, and we quickly nabbed it. Conveniently, it was just across from the pub. I set up the camera on the stone wall that surrounded the front on a 10-second-timer. I positioned my father where you could also see the pub name, then I manually focused on him. We'd call this the critical focus, often focusing on the eye to ensure crispness in the picture. I clicked the shutter button and hurried to my father's side.
"See how it's blinking yellow? When that light turns solid, it's about to take. And... now!"
McNamara's The Irish Arms, Lisdoonvarna, IR
Now that the mandatory picture was complete, we of course went in for a drink. One Guinness, one Smithwick's. It was customary at this point. It was a small, local place that currently held a few local patrons. There were American police and fire department badges from the whole country lined on the wall behind the bar. This was the first time we'd seen the trend, but it would by no means be the last.
"How do you get one of those on the wall here?" my dad asked of the barman.
"You bring one in or send one in, if you'd like."
"Can I get a card? I'm mayor of a small city of about 30,000..." He's actually supervisor of a small township, "... and I'd love to send a badge over."
"Ahh, from America I see?"
"Yeah - we actually stopped here because we're McNamaras. How often do ya hear that? Haha."
"First time today," he humorously responded. "Gimme a second - I'll see about that card," he said, vanishing in the back. Upon returning, he stated, "Couldn't find one, but I can do ya one up," then he handed my father a small info sheet with the name and address.
"Are you gentlemen Pats fans?"
"Patriots? I am, but we're from Michigan, and I went to U of M."
"Ahh, he was their quarterback, correct?"
"Yes, sir," my dad triumphantly said.
"Well, you'll appreciate this then," the barman said as he pulled his phone out. "I actually made it to their home opener - I've only just returned from the States a few days ago."
"So, you're a big fan of American football?"
“It’s been going on for over 150 years, and it’s still popular.”
"Oh, yeah. I've been going to games most of my life. I've always loved the Pats. They got some work to do this season, though."
Talking American football in an Irish pub under the name of McNamara had to fulfill one of my father's wildest dreams. I mean, it just seemed so surreal at that moment. The kind barman tended to his other customers. He was probably in his 50's and walked with a limp. A pin-board that had old photos revealed he'd been working there since his youth. He returned.
"So, what's with all the cars? What's going on here?" my dad inquired.
"The matchmaking festival. It's been going on for over 150 years, and it's still popular."
My dad and I both laughed at the thought, but it was clearly still a relevant means of meeting here.
"Well, thank you for the service, and I'll work on getting that badge."
"Have a good day, gentlemen!"
We were off. Now, I'm back on track with my account. We arrived at Bunratty Castle Mews B&B to discover I'd once again one-upped myself. It was nestled on a lane of B&Bs, each as beautiful as the other. A man sat outside on a rocker while reading the paper and silently motioned us inside. Whom I assume was his wife instantly came to our aide. She told us to wait momentarily as she helped the newlyweds in front of us. She was small, had reddish-brown hair, and she moved as quickly as lightning. She was the image of efficiency.
She came back, hands on her hips, saying, "Now, how did I know we'd have two big, strong gentlemen in our last open room? Whenever I'm unsure of who's coming, I save this room for last. It's the one that isn't themed," she finished, giggling. "Here's your room, boys. Fully equipped with television, kettle, a full bathroom - oh, and we have drinking water down the hall to make your coffee. There are also two massage chairs, so please use them! Now, follow me!
"Just down here is our honesty bar. Five euro buys you a pint, and you just drop your change in this jar. You can buy drinks whenever, but you'll have to take them outside or to your room after seven. We don't want partying in here at night, especially when we don't know how early others will have to wake up! Now, a full Irish breakfast is served here in this next room. If you look out front, you'll see our little summer room - you can do your smoking outside or in there. It's a bit warmer in there, though. Any questions? Good! Seeing none, I'll be off!" and she vanished as quickly as she appeared.
My dad and I looked at each other, and we burst out laughing. Clearly, we were both impressed and overjoyed at what 90 euro had gotten us. I mean, this was place was too nice.
"Son, I don't know how you did it again, but keep doing whatever it is that you're doing."
"Haha! I don't even know how I'm finding these deals. Seriously, this place is insane."
"Remind me why we're ever leaving?" he asked, laughing.
"Honestly, I'm not sure anymore," I chuckled.
We bought two pints and sat out in the summer room while my father smoked. "What time is it? I don't know how to change my damn watch, so I just took it off."
"It's about 6:30."
"Short day today, huh? I need that."
I thought about what he said. It was actually a very long day. I mean, we started in Galway, spent time downtown, visited a castle, drove, stopped at a pub, drove, hiked around the Cliffs of Moher, drove, then we arrived in Bunratty. We did so much that I barely remembered any of it, and I definitely lost track of the order of events. Thank God for notes and photographs. Nonetheless, he was right in one respect. We'd gotten in much earlier than the previous two nights. The question remained; would we stay in?
"You wanna go grab some dinner?" my father asked.
"Of course - I'll look up a place.... It says there's one a mile down the road, The Creamery Bar. Wanna go?"
"Let's do it. We're not walking, though," he said after reading my mind.
I always prefer to walk. Because it was so close, I finally had the chance to drive. It was definitely strange, but it was also fun. We arrived and entered a semi-crowded pub, with a large table of Americans. They were loud and getting louder. We ordered drinks and food.
"It'll be some time for your food, gents. That large party got in their order just before ya. Sorry, boys!" the bartender informed us. We didn't mind the wait.
Here was another bar lined with American badges. This place seemed much less authentic, though. The Americanized menu made it obvious who they catered to. To be fair, it is tucked between a castle and a golf resort. I suppose it's to be expected.
"Those people are so obnoxious. We're always so loud," I commented on us as Americans.
"No - they're just having a good time, and they're not that loud."
They grew louder still, to the point that no one else was even audible. "Okay - you're right. They're annoying," my father concluded as he chuckled.
"You just don't realize how loud we are until you're overseas. Those kind of people make us look bad."
"Well, we're just tourists, too."
"We're not just tourists - we're travelers. There's a difference. Some people go away to lie on a beach or sit in a resort - we're here to immerse ourselves in the culture. We're here to respect it, to learn from it. We're striving to stay out of places like this, choosing more local ones instead. We're literally planning 80% of this trip day-by-day based on what people who live here are telling us to do. So, no. We're not just tourists."
"You know what? You're right. I'm glad we're doing it this way. It's much more special - that's for sure."
"Here you are, guys. There were extra from their meal," the barman said, handing us wings and nodding to the other Americans. "Sorry again for the wait."
"Oh, no problem. Thanks so much!" I replied.
My dad and I smiled to each other and dug in. Our meal came by the time we finished devouring our wings. They were seriously awesome, and I never eat bone-in wings. My generation is all about the boneless. My dad despises the fact.
We concluded at The Creamery Bar and went back to our lodgings for a long night of much needed rest.
House off of The Wild Atlantic Way, Kinvarna, IR
HIGHLIGHTS
Places Visited:
Day Three
Downtown Galway
Dunguaire Castle, Kinvarna
McNamara's The Irish Arms, Lisdoonvarna
The Cliffs of Moher
Bunratty Castle Mews B&B
The Creamery Bar, Bunratty
Stats
16,876 Steps
72 Floors
8.1 Miles
259 Active Minutes
