Galway
On the way to Galway, we saw the Cliffs of Moher and the Burren. We spent two nights in Galway, but we barely saw it because the first night we arrived at the end of the day, we spent the one full day on the Aran Islands, and we left early the third day.
Click on the first photo to see each section in a larger slide show.
Day 6: Cliffs of Moher, Galway
The bus left Dingle at 9 sharp because Lolly wanted to squeeze in an extra stop today, Desmond Castle, which she had never been to before and hoped it would be worth adding to the tour. It was interesting, but it made us late the rest of the day.
Next stop was Cliffs of Moher, which we arrived at late. We ate our picnic lunches there, but it was so crowded that we had a hard time enjoying the cliffs. Plus you’re on top of them instead of in front of them. We actually enjoyed the Blasket island cliffs more than these, but that’s probably because Blasket was so quiet and peaceful.
We drove a wee bit to the Burren and got out for a short stop, walking over the craggy rocks. A good place to twist an ankle.
We arrived in Galway later than expected so we didn’t have much time for a break before the orientation walk. In preparation for the trip, I had read several Ken Bruen novels, which made me a little nervous about Galway. Bruen, who passed away a month before our tour, wrote film-noir-style “hard boiled” detective novels set in Galway. I loved them, but they made me think Galway was going to be really dark and dirty. And my first view of Galway from our hotel room looked out onto well, a dark and dirty alley, straight out of a film noir. Somehow black and white in real life, and I thought, ‘Uh oh, Bruen described this place accurately.’ On the orientation tour, though, Galway was wonderful. Crowded and bubbling with activity. (I couldn’t even figure out where that alley was behind our hotel!) We enjoyed the walk through the town and were disappointed that we wouldn’t have more time to spend here.
At some point on the bus trip we had passed a sign for Limerick, and Lolly pointed it out and said we all had to write a limerick to read later in the trip. When we got back to the hotel, I finished mine. (Read it on the Westport page.)
Day 9: Aran Islands
I woke up early and took a walk before breakfast, as the sun was rising. I walked down to the river, past the cathedral to the Spanish arch near the harbor and then back through the town. It was very pleasant and not at all Ken Bruen-ish.
Today was the Aran Islands day, which we had been looking forward to because our grandson is named Aran, after these islands. (Our daughter honeymooned in Ireland and she and her husband loved the name.) We rode on the upper deck on the ferry, about 45 minutes to Inishmore. Smooth water and great views. After disembarking, we split into two vans and our driver Oliver pointed out sites on the way, many involving movies that were shot here! (Leap Year, The Field, The Banshees of Inisheran, The Matchmaker.) We stopped at a small village, where we disembarked. “Village” is probably too strong a word. A few stores and restaurants, pretty much all just for tourists.
We walked to the old fort, half a mile or so. One of the most amazing things about much of Ireland is how they turned rocky terrain into fields usable for farming and ranching. The Aran Islands probably looked just like the Burren millennia ago. The Irish would break up the rocks to make walls, then cover what was left with seafood, animal manure, and anything organic they could find. Over the years, these would become plant-able or at least graze-able. As we walked we could see the evidence of both the rocks and the fields all around us.
We had to climb steep, rocky steps to get to what’s left of the fort, overlooking the ocean with an amazing view. Lolly convinced almost half of us to lay on our stomachs with our heads sticking out over the 100-foot cliff. It was scary, but I did it. Debbie had more sense. We heard stories about people who had fallen off the edge. The docents up there said no one had ever fallen off. Oliver said he knows of at least three fatalities! (And why would they have that goofy sign if no one had ever fallen?)
After the walk back and lunch at the cafe, Oliver took us to the farthest point of the island, level with the ocean where we got out and looked at the tide pools. I picked up a souvenir rock to give to my grandson. I know, I know, if everyone picked up a rock to give to their grandson named Aran, there wouldn’t be any rocks left here.
Then we returned to Inishmore, and I took as many photos of places and businesses with the word “Aran” in them that I could see.
