~ April 10, 2003 - 4:50 p.m. ~
IRELAND part 1
So Timmy and I arrived at Shannon Airport on Saturday, March 15. We picked up the rental car and drove to our first hostel in Lisdoonvarna, which is where they have this big matchmaking festival every fall. It�s a very small down (about the size of three Manhattan blocks, maybe?), and I think we actually ran into the head matchmaker (he�s listed in the Let�s Go guide to Ireland) at the pub. He kept asking Tim and me if we loved each other, which would have been weird had we not been in Lisdoonvarna. Anyway, we had lunch at the pub where we met a man with the same name as Irish tenor John McCormick, as well as the pub�s owner. The Owner talked to us about places to hike in the Cliffs of Moher instead. The views were amazing, and we then drove around the coast road near the Burren to take a look at what we�d be climbing the next day. By the time we got back to the hostel, we were too tired to do anything and fell asleep before dinner.We kicked off our Sunday with a Full Irish Breakfast. For those of you who don�t know, a Full Irish Breakfast (it totally deserves the caps) consists of two sunny-side-up eggs, two pieces of sausage, one rasher of Irish bacon, saut�ed mushrooms, a stewed tomato (although we�ve seen fried potato wedges instead in a few places), brown soda bread, and white bread toast with jam and butter. All this is served with coffee or tea and OJ. It is amazing and highly caloric. Tim and I were incapable of eating one of these things without quoting from the Simpson�s, �Butter your bacon boy!� and �Now bacon your sausage!� Anyway, loaded up on good food, we set out to hike around in the Burren. We climbed up Black Head and found a Neolithic ring fort, along with an enclosed area for cattle. On the way down, we saw ponies grazing on the hillside, and we had a picnic near the lighthouse out in Galway Bay. We drove to Ballyvaughn to seen the Burren College of Art (Tim is thinking of going), and then drove on to Galway.
We stayed in Salthill, a suburb of Galway in this little B&B called St. Joseph�s. It was run by this cute little old woman and her husband, who were both glued to the TV watching war coverage when not attending to us. We ate dinner that night in Galway at a pub called Skeffington Arms, which was nice, but a bit posh. I mean, we�d been hiking that day, but we weren�t gross or anything, we were just in jeans and sweaters. We cleaned up before we went out, and it�s a pub for pete�s sake. Tim actually didn�t have a problem, but I got nasty ugly-duckling looks from the overly-primped girls in the restroom, which sort of pissed me off. Just because I wasn�t wearing a tube top and pound of make-up! Ugh.
The next day was St. Patrick�s Day. We went back into Galway town for the parade, which was kind of funny. There were about a million kids with penny-whistles, as every elementary school had its little marching band out. Afterwards, we proceeded to get drunk, which is really all there is to do on St. Patrick�s Day in Galway. It was much less festive than I�d expected, but Guinness was wonderful. We walked out along the river and down to the University, but everything was closed up, it being a Bank Holiday and all. We had dinner in another pub, this one three floors tall and with a tree in the middle (weird). As I am nearly half Tim�s size and had been matching him drink for drink (mostly) all day, I was quite sloshed by dinner. We had tri-color shots too, which are supposed to represent the Irish flag. It�s Bailey�s, brandy, and cr�me de menthe in the shot glass, and it looks really cool when it�s done right. Suffice to say, Tim had to drive back to the hostel.
We got up early on Tuesday and drove out to Rossaveel to catch a ferry to the Aran Islands. There�s an old cliff-side ring fort out there called Dun Aonghasa which I�ve been wanting to see for years. We landed on Inishmore and took a bus out to the fort, as well as too some old ruins of churches. That left us with enough time for lunch and a couple of pints before the ferry returned to take us back to Rossaveel. We wanted to do more, but the whole island is a tourist trap. I mean, it�s not all Disney-fied or anything, it�s just that tourism is the only economy there, so everything is absurdly expensive. 10 euros ($11) for a bowl of stew? I mean, come on!
To be continued . . .
