"Galway Girl"

My flights to Ireland were largely uneventful - particularly the Atlanta-to-Dublin leg during which the "in flight entertainment" monitor at my seat was mysteriously broken while everyone else's worked fine. (D'oh!) At least I was able to catch up on some sleep, though, given that I'd been working so hard before I left...

As I flew into Dublin, I fell in love with the Emerald Isle from the air; my first sight of her was almost magical - green and beautiful, rising peacefully from the choppy gray ocean. I knew right then that I was going to enjoy myself on this trip; it was just "a feeling". Once the plane landed, I had some time to kill in the airport before catching a CityLink bus to Galway; strangely, my flight landed an hour early - which, as any air traveler can attest, never happens. I ATM'd some Euros (and said a silent "hurrah!" when the ATM did not eat my card like the one in Marrakech did last year), found some decent food, and managed to doze quietly with my leg wrapped through my backpack straps as it leaned against my chair.

I spent the next 3-4hrs bussing it to Galway, wherein I sat next to an old woman who was shocked at the idea that I was traveling alone; she warned me to be careful..."because you think it's just Ireland, but it's not as safe as it seems". Given where I was raised and where I've traveled previously, I just smiled by best appreciative smile at her and commented wryly that I figured Ireland was probably about as safe as home - which means that pretty much anything could happen. My seatmate also inspired me, upon returning home, to inquire regarding the surname of my maternal Irish relations; she claimed that you could tell which counties families came from just from their names, so maybe there's hope of tracking down the part of Ireland we were originally from...

Galway served a nice "college town" entry point to Ireland. I explored so much that I wound up with crazy blisters on my feet, but it was worth it. One Irish guy I roomed with was an incoming university student looking for housing; to my amazement, he mentioned never having been to a city as big as Galway - and Galway's not all that big. Fortunately, though, Galway did have decent stores such that I could buy a waterproof windbreaker thing. (I mysteriously didn't pack anything waterproof - not sure what I was thinking!)

From Galway, I arranged day trips to visit Connemara (i.e. the picturesque Gaeltacht / Gaelic speaking region), and the Cliff of Moher. I'm glad I went on both trips, but they mostly just served to reinforce the fact that I'm not the kind of person who enjoys organized bus tours; they kind of rip the soul out of an experience. I hate suffering through obnoxious people with different motives for traveling - and especially other obnoxious Americans who don't know how to "not be in America", for lack of a better explanation. I also really don't enjoy being party to someone else's schedules. That said, with as exhausted as work had made me, I just plain didn't have the energy to figure it out on my own as I'd usually be wont to do. C'est la vie.