Day 5: Galway to Ballynahinch Castle

Amber and I awoke very excited--we were joining our tour today! We were also nervous about meeting the new people on tour. That initial not knowing our tour mates (were they fun? Obnoxious? High maintenance?) provoked some anxiety in both of us. (Amber was also nervous that the tour wasn't really gonna show up, or that they'd forget us.)

But the tour began in Dublin, so we had the morning to ourselves in Galway. We walked along the bay in the rain, stopping every few feet to admire the colorful doors and lovely flowers. We had two destinations in mind: first, the Spanish Arch, then secondly, breakfast!

We found the Spanish Arch, and to our delight, it was occupied!

I'm telling you, those musicians are everywhere, which makes me happy. 

The streets and promenade surrounding the arch were empty, empty, empty. The only ones out were us, the rain, and a roaring river full of swans. 

Nearby Shop Street would be busy and full of visitors soon enough, so we enjoyed the solitude. But as we walked along the main street, we realized that sleepy tourists meant none of the restaurants were open just yet.  

Eventually, we stumbled on a second-story cafe that was as warm and cozy as it was adorable. The food was really good, and of course, the toast was delicious! (I had no idea Irish bread was so amazing!) Amber ordered the most wonderful chai tea. 

During breakfast, our tour guide called, which excited us immensely. (We weren't forgotten!) Amber and I immediately switched roles--she stopped worrying after the call, but I became anxious (did I hear correctly about the pick up place and time correctly? Did she say half-past three of half of three? And who the heck says half of anything??) Oh well, at least we take turns with worrying.

We finished up our late breakfast, and hit the shops. I needed postcards and stamps, but after a while, got tired of fighting the crowds. Amber went in search of a warm Aran Island sweater and I pulled up a chair at the nearest pub to write a letter home to Mark and watch all the people go by. 

There were new musicians out today, not nearly as good as yesterday's. I watched one hokey kid in a business suit underwhelm the passersby. He had no instrument or musical skill, just a microphone, amp, and laptop, which he used to get the lyrics. (Even with the words scrolling by, he kept messing up the lyrics!) 

That's right, he was performing karaoke on the street corner! He also threw some bad dance moves and dramatic facial expressions in there, for a result that was far more hilarious than he intended. 

Amber returned, and we bid adieu to Shop Street. We wandered over to the cemetery next to our hotel. I know that sounds weird, but it was beautiful. Our local cemeteries are all new, with flat headstones in the grass. Irish graveyards are much older, and far more decorative, with elaborate giant Celtic crosses marking the burial plots.

The crosses were grand, eloquent, surrounded by roses. The graves were meticulously cared for, and the headstones thoughtfully described the lives of the people buried there. It was a very peaceful place, although I was glad for the high wall that prevented us from seeing all of it as we walked home the evening before (graveyards at night scare the heck outta me!).

Amber and I returned to the hotel for our bags, and to wait for Vagabond. We noticed a subtle but distinctive shift in the hotel clientele; the famous Galway horse races began the next day, and the fans were arriving. Gone were the groups of boisterous young hens and stags, slowly being replaced by a far older and more genteel crowd. The stags and hens arrived by train, but the race fans pulled up in fancy cars, toting expensive luggage. It was interesting to watch.

Then we saw another car pull up--a black Land Rover pulling a small trailer. Our ride was here! 

Amber and I squealed, grabbed our bags, and ran outside to meet our tour guide, Bébhinn (pronounced Bay-ven). She tossed our bags in the trailer, pulled down the Land Rover's flimsy steps, and motioned at us to climb in. I did, staring straight into a sea of faces.

"Hi, I'm Heather!" I announced, quickly grabbing a seat. There were so many faces, I didn't really get a good look st anybody.

"Well, then, off we go!" Bébhinn said. She consulted at her map, adjusted her microphone headset, and officially welcomed us aboard. 

Bébhinn asked where we were from, and introduced the rest of the gang by their newly-acquired nicknames. There was King Brian (the first king of Ireland was Brian Boru) and his wife, Margie Pargie Puddin' n Pie, and their sons Nate the Great and Big Ben (who was only 15, but lived up to his name at 6' 5"!). Brian's sister Linda (Lin Shinn) was also aboard. Twenty-two-year-old Ashley was there with her mom, Mother Mary, and Uncle George, who surprised the new college graduate with the trip. Rounding out the group was Jan, from Central California, who'd been traveling Europe for two months. Her husband was in Scotland for the week, golfing with buddies, so Jan came to Ireland to tour with our Vagabond group.

The Land Rover (the Vagatron) rolled out of Galway, and onto the smaller, winding back roads of the Connemara region. Now we were truly heading out to the Irish countryside, and was I ever excited! Goodbye big cities, and hello to the rolling green hills of Ireland!

We drove about an hour, and I stared out the window the whole time. The country was gorgeous, lush, green, and seemed to go on forever. Bébhinn pointed out all sorts of interesting things, and taught us a little rhyme about magpies, explaining how superstitious Irish people are (seeing one magpie is bad luck, so you have to wave at it so it isn't alone). She told us about fairies, how mischievous they are, and vengeful, so you never want to disrespect or anger one.

Finally, we turned left onto an even smaller country road. Bébhinn pulled over so we could stretch our legs.

We also got a good look at Killary Harbour, Ireland's only fjord.

Then it was back in the Vagatron and on to our next site, Kylemore Abbey, which, it turns out was NOT the castle we were staying in that night (as I erroneously thought!). 

It was a beautiful place though, built by a wealthy politician for his wife. It was later owned by Benedictine nuns, and became a boarding school. 

Although we thought we were getting better at it, Amber and I still struggled with the selfie. Some nice tourists took pity on us, and snapped this beautiful shot.

And when I posted it on Facebook, my friend Matthew doctored it up, and added the caption, "Guess who else was on holiday? Nessie!" I laughed so hard, and couldn't stop giggling about it. This pretend picture is one of my very favorites from Ireland! 

This was a short stop, mostly just for taking photos, but we took a quick walk around the grounds, which were beautiful.

And then it was on to the stop I was most excited about--the castle! That's right, that's the way we roll, sleeping in castles.

We drove through more windy roads to the castle. I was amazed and a little frightened by the roads, which were very narrow and lined on either side by shrubbery and stone walls. Bébhinn said when measured and built hundreds of years ago, the roads were wide enough for the only mode of transportation--donkey carts. They'd certainly never been upgraded since cars were invented!

The roads twisted and turned, and you couldn't see the other cars coming toward you (usually at high speeds) until they screeched to a stop right in front of you. The Irish cars are all tiny, so they usually gave way to our giant Land Rover. 

The other cool thing we saw on the roads were sheep! That's right, they were all over the place--in the road, alongside the road, in the hills, basically wherever they wanted. Bébhinn said they sleep on the road at night, because it's warm (the asphalt holds the heat from the sun). She said you've gotta be careful driving at night, because there are no lights anywhere and you don't want to hit a flock of sleeping sheep.

Pretty soon, we turned down a road that drove along a small lake. It was gorgeous, and lead into a thick forest of trees. Suddenly, the forest opened up and we saw it--Ballynahinch Castle! (Bally-na-hinch)

See that big triple-sized window on the third floor, above the Vagatron and trailer? That was our room!! Amber and I had a big room with gorgeous window seat in front of the window overlooking the beautiful grounds. 

The receptionist welcomed us all in, and a sweet little old bellman came to take our bags. Our room was on the third floor, and we saw quickly enough there was no elevator. Amber and I winced when he grabbed both our bags at the same time, grunted, and ran up all the stairs with them. (Please don't have a heart attack, I begged silently as we followed behind him at half his pace, feeling guilty.)

But once inside Room 12, all the guilt melted away. We gasped at the beauty out our picture window. The room was great, full of luxurious amenities, like heated mirrors and towel racks. It was only lacking one thing, but unfortunately, it was the thing Amber had looked forward to the most--a bath tub. She'd seen photos of the spa tubs on the web site. She tried (and failed) to hide her disappointment, but I don't blame her for being disappointed.

There were two dinner options that night--the fancy restaurant or the castle pub. We all opted for the pub, although it was the fanciest pub I'd ever been in! 

The castle was on a river and famous for its fishing and brown trout. The fishing theme ran through the castle interior, with stands to rest the gear, rain gear, boots, and giant fishing poles (some were two stories tall!). The pub had many rooms, all with wood-paneled walls, some with roaring fireplaces. It was warm, cozy and elaborately but tastefully decorated (and the food was amazing, too--not your usual "pub grub," as it turns out, but fresh seafood platters, enormous steaks, and posh desserts like buttery bread pudding).

The hostess showed us to our table, and our group sat down, engaging in small talk, trying to remember each other's names again. I sat next to Margie, who was lovely. She told me all about her family, the Shinners, and how they were from Chicago (yay, I love Chicagoans!).

Our waitress appeared to take drink orders. I ordered a glass of wine, and when she asked which room to charge it to, I said, "Room 15." Amber looked at me quizzically, then I said, "Just kidding, I'm really in Room 12." Everybody laughed, and that was it--the tension was gone and we were all friends!

Our table only got louder as the night went on. Turns out George, sitting across from me, is hilarious, and even louder than I am! (I swear, ask Amber!) Linda, sitting next to George, was also hilarious, as was King Brian. I spent most of the meal laughing my head off. At one point, we apologized to the waitress, who just smiled and said, "No, I love it, you're brilliant!" I think she was just being polite (we WERE kinda rowdy), but she was right--we were brilliant. I realized we were gonna have a lot of fun with this group.

Full and happy, we left the pub to explore the castle grounds. It was late, and dark, so Amber and I just ambled from room to room, finding the library, a game room, and a sitting room. We found a way outside, which freaked me out a bit, since Amber told me at dinner there were bats out there. (I did not see the note in the room telling us to keep close the windows at night while the lights were on, or the bats would fly in and get stuck. Ack!!!)

We could see the bats, tiny, swooping down into the clouds of mosquitoes buzzing around the lights along the river. It was quiet, absolutely silent, and peaceful (even with the bats!).    

After a short stop in the drawing room to relax, we returned to our rooms. I thought Amber and I had a long day, but the trip was even longer for our new friends--it took them three hours to drive from Dublin to Galway! (Plus the 90 minutes+ we were in the Vagatron from Galway to Ballynahinch.) And most had arrived the previous day, so jet-lag was kicking everyone's booty (Margie told us how all the Shinners fell asleep during the Riverdance show the night before).

A surprise awaited us in the room--fresh-baked cookies! Three of them, stacked next to the cute little water bottles. 

We learned what a little prankster Ashley was the next morning, when we heard Mary freaking out about the cookies.

"I ate one, and when I came out of the bathroom, there was only half a cookie left!" she reported. "Ashley said the fairies ate the other half!" 

Bébhinn's stories about the fairies left quite an impression on Mary, and honestly, quiet, desolate Ballynahinch did feel like there could be fairies lurking nearby. Mary was clearly unnerved by the fairies sneaking into her room and eating the cookies.

Mary rushed off, and Amber looked directly at Ashley. 

"Did you eat the cookie?" Amber asked, and a sly smile appeared across Ashley's face.

"Of course I ate the cookie," Ashley answered. 

Seems like the fairies weren't the only mischievous creatures we'd have to worry about on this trip!

Day 4: Galway Girl(s)

Day 4 started early with a cross-country train ride. You know you're in a small country when the trip to the other side only takes two hours!

We left Dublin to head west to Galway for a quick overnight get-away. We'd heard great things about Galway, and even though Dublin was a blast, we were excited to get out of the big city and start seeing some countryside.

As the train rolled out of Dublin, the concrete buildings faded off, giving way to rolling green fields and sheep--lots of sheep! This was our first experience seeing the famous Irish sheep, and it was a little disconcerting because it looked like some hooligans had caught and graffiti-ed them. They were brightly painted, and though it didn't seem to bother them, it bothered us. (Seriously, who paints sheep??)

We found out later that's how the farmers "brand" the sheep. They pick a paint color (or colors) and location to mark the sheep and register that with the Irish government. That allows the farmers to identify their sheep when they run off into the hills and mix with all the other flocks. 

After a quick nap, we arrived in Galway. We could see immediately how different it was from Dublin--still busy, but on a much smaller scale. And we could see water! We never got close to a port in Dublin, we could only see it from the Guinness Storehouse. But here in Galway, we walked along the water's edge until we found our hotel.

The second interesting fact of the day is that we learned Galway is famous for "hen" and "stag" parties (aka bacherlorette/bachelor parties). I'm not sure why exactly, except that maybe it's the closest big city for some of the smaller towns, but it certainly lived up to its reputation. It was a Saturday night, and the hens were already about!

They filled the hotel lobby, all clutching champagne flutes and fancy suitcases. Registration took a while and the sheer number of hens completely flustered the poor receptionist. We finally got our room, but when we returned from dropping off our bags, ANOTHER hen party filled the lobby! We could only imagine how busy the restaurants and bars in town would be tonight!

Amber and I had no idea where to go, or even where the main part of town was, so we asked at the front desk. This is when we realized a really good reason why we are such compatible travel partners--Amber hates to ask people questions, which I have no problem doing. What I am bad at is listening to answers (curse you, ADHD!), but turns out, Amber is super good at that part! So between the two of us, we can make contact with any person, AND get directions/recommendations! 

So off we went, map in hand, courtesy of the hotel receptionist. We walked down a very empty, kind of industrial street, which confused me, because I'd heard what a busy, happening town Galway was. We passed lots of quaint buildings, though, and even more colorful doors and vibrant flower boxes. (The Irish flowers really thrive in all the rain and extended summer sunlight!)

We turned the corner onto Shop Street, and suddenly, we saw where all the people were.

Shop Street was insanely crowded, but it was also ADORABLE! It was a pedestrian street, closed off to cars, and looked like an old medieval town. Banners hung between the buildings on either side, and there were flowers everywhere. 

There were restaurants and brick buildings and brightly painted buildings and pubs, and souvenir shops and regular shops and sweater shops and street performers and musicians and...oh my God, it was overwhelming! We didn't know where to turn first, or what to look at, and we just wanted stop and to take it all in except that the throngs of tourists bustling by kept nudging us out of the way.

We found the restaurant the receptionist suggested, and gratefully slid inside. It was tiny, and filled to capacity, but it was also warm and the food looked fantastic. Amber ordered a beautiful salad, but I was intrigued by an appetizer.

"What is 'potted crab'?" I asked the waitress.

She looked at me like I'm an idiot and slowly answered, "It's crab. In a little pot." And she was right! (It was like a warm crab salad you spread on slabs of soda bread--it was DELICIOUS!)

After lunch, we slowly strolled the street, stopping every five seconds to take a photo or look at something new. The musicians all played exotic looking instruments, which fascinated us.

This guy was one of my favorites, mostly because I couldn't figure out exactly what he was doing. He was hilarious--he'd obviously gone through a lot of trouble to cover the pub in paper, and he even had a cardboard cut out of himself in the window! He looked like an ordinary busker until you looked closely at his "banjo"--also a cardboard cut out! 

He didn't sing or play, he just stood there saying, "Plink plonk." He even had sheet music to go along with it. Amber and I couldn't stop cracking up at him!

There were musicians on literally every corner. We stopped to watch them all, and I feared we'd never make it down the street, but then again, who cared? This was exactly why we came to Galway!

We also found this adorable busker--he was sooooo cute, we were pretty much glued to the street in front of him, just staring at him. And we weren't the only ones, either--the whole area was filled with girls staring just as intensely. 

He even stopped a full hen party in their tracks! They were hilarious, all dressed up in matching golf outfits. He dedicated Ed Sheeran's "Living Out Loud" to them, and they held their giant inflatable golf clubs aloft, swinging them back and forth in time. 

Amber decided we should support local artists, and bought us both a copy of his CD. She got a smile and a wink when she dropped the money into his guitar case, reaffirming that not only was he gorgeous, but charming as well. I think all the female hearts in our area sighed and melted simultaneously.

As if Galway wasn't busy enough on that sunny Saturday, there was even more shopping behind the main street--a farmer's market! They had the coolest stuff--crafts, and fresh veggies galore.

There were flowers, fresh cut and in pots.

And there was a fishmonger, selling all sorts of fresh seafood on giant mounds of ice.

This ugly guy caught my attention--I couldn't turn away from it. I've never seen a monk fish before, it looked like an alien from the sea. 

It was so disgusting, I vowed never to eat one, a vow I unknowingly broke the very next day when I ordered a tasty seafood platter. (Amber remembered the fish and my vow after I'd finished eating.)

We shopped a bit, passing harpists and a magician/trapeze artist as we strolled, finally coming to the end of the main street. It was bordered by a park filled with more performers (street dancers this time), and absolutely filled with people and more flowers. It was a great spot to people watch. 

All that walking (OK, not really that much) made us thirsty. We found a pub that promised trad music, and ordered a couple of beers. The place was packed, mostly with men at first, and then with the golfing hen party. (Curiously, there was a sign at the front door barring hen or stag parties in the pub.)

We sat next to a young guy who soon became our new best friend. Jason was a local--he loved this pub and was super friendly. He told us about Irish politics, and about growing up in the country. He spoke of his father working hard every day on the farm, and how Jason couldn't wait to get away from it. He was funny and endearing, with an easy smile and a quick laugh. Amber and I both fell in love with his charming ways. (Amber accurately pointed out later that all Irish men have that charm, whether they're 8 or 80, and it worked on us every time!)

We'd come in for the live music, but quickly opted for drinking a few beers with a fun local guy instead. After our frenetic sightseeing the past few days, it felt great (and a little bit naughty) to spend the evening drinking in a pub.

Eventually, though, our stomachs betrayed us. Jason sent us off to his favorite chipper for dinner, McDonagh's. I remembered seeing it earlier in the day, but couldn't remember where, exactly--we'd walked up and down the street a couple times. We got lost within two minutes of leaving the pub, and had to ask another local guy for directions.

"Which way to McDonagh's?" I called out to a group of men smoking cigarettes on the patio. They sighed, and silently pointed behind us, a bit dismissively. We couldn't figure it out--after all the friendly, helpful Irish people we'd met, this guy seemed irritated with us. Not angry, but definitely annoyed.

"That was weird," Amber said, and I agreed. But I realized why a couple blocks later.

"I don't think McDonagh's is this way..." I started to say, and then I remembered what was. 

"McDonald's is this way!" I told Amber, laughing. "No wonder he was glaring at us! He thought the stupid Americans wanted to eat at McDonald's, not McDonagh's!" 

And sure enough, there it was, the Golden Arches. We turned around and found McDonagh's in the other direction.

The restaurant, like all the other pubs and eateries in town, was packed. There were two sides--a take out side, and a sit down side. We each stood in a separate line, figuring fate would tell us which side to choose. The pricier sit-down side eventually won out because they served beer, and actually had seating.

The seating, however, was communal, and very close. The waitress led us to a table filled with four very quiet (German?) boys and we sat down inches away from them. The foreign boys quietly ate their dinner, completely avoiding eye contact. 

We ordered dinner--more fish! And more mushy peas, which sound gross, but are delicious and slightly weird all at the same time. We also ordered local beers, Galway Hookers, named after the boats famous to the Galway region. 

And yes, we snickered and giggled and took lots of photos with them, which did not help our case with the Very Quiet Foreign Boys.

By the time we were done, it was dark outside, which meant it was really late. We considered another pub with more music, but we were stuffed from dinner, and the "Just one beer" compromise doesn't work in Ireland because all the beers are giant and heavy. 

But no matter...like all our days so far, Galway proved an excellent host, and a fine city to see. A gentle rain fell on us as we walked home, our first Irish rain, which delighted us. (That wore off soon enough in the coming days!) 

Then it was back to our hotel for a good night's sleep, interrupted only occasionally by an enthusiastic stag party singing "The Lion Sleeps Tonight." Maybe the lion was the only one sleeping, but it didn't dampen our new found love for Ireland in the least.