After my not so great time in Dublin, but better time in the suburbs, I didn't really know what to expect from Galway. I had heard good things, but who knows?
Well, after spending several days there, I was ready to move in. In short, Galway was one of my favorite places that I've been (and I'm in Prague right now).
What greeted us in Galway was a city full of culture, life, and travelers just like us. In fact, the city prided itself on being an amalgamation with all these different histories mixed together.
A seemingly endless rotation of buskers lined the street day and night. Ancient ruins hid around every corner. I got to hear 3 amazing bands perform at the Róisín Dubh while Ashlen won a dance off against a dude while surrounded by the crowd as everyone, including the band, went wild. We heard a Scottish storyteller named Rab tell the enthralling local story of the evil Mayor Lynch who hung his own son from their house window in the name of justice (look up the story, it's fascinating and likely true), and a Scottish story about a deadly sheep.
Every bit of the city burst with culture, history, nostalgia, and pride. Even just one day there was enough to see that. But Galway also gave us our first cathedral...
A beautiful university with free geology and zoology museums that showcased a collection of glass replicas of dissected organisms formerly used as study tools before the internet...
Gorgeous sunsets...
And of course, a chance to see...
THE CLIFFS OF INSANITY...I mean, Moher
The Cliffs of Moher should look familiar to anyone who has seen The Princess Bride. And if you haven't, well, go do that and get some joy in your life.
Galway also happened to give us our first hostel, the Savoy (which we highly recommend). Advertised up front at the desk were day tours to the cliffs, and with some help from the attendant we picked one that included some fun side features as well as more time at the cliffs themselves. The next morning, we ambled over to the bus station and hopped on.
Our first stop was Dunguaire Castle, an ancient tollbooth/castle that we had all of ten minutes to look at. Literally. It was a nice view from the bridge looking toward the castle, and some old ruins and thatched houses across the street were nice to look at, but the castle itself wasn't much.
There were actually some far more interesting things we saw only in passing. A dolmen (top pic) and "fairy ring" (bottom pic) both around FOUR THOUSAND YEARS OLD. It turned out these things are practically everywhere on the west coast, but these were literally some of the oldest things we had ever seen. They had been built by prehistoric humans as graves and housing respectively, but had since gained reverence as where faeries live. Our guide was wonderful in laying out the history and legends as to why this had taken place, before stopping us at...
The Poulnabrone Dolmen. Once again we only had about fifteen minutes here, which was a shame. Some enterprising Irishman had set up a chair, a donation box, and his dog and played the tin whistle for the busloads of tourists dropping by, but you know what? I loved it. Stepping up to the stones themselves felt like what I imagined seeing Stonehenge would feel like. There was a certain sense of magic there, and a deep respect for that magic (despite the busloads of tourists). Ancient humans had buried their dead underneath this massive set of limestone slabs, and the reverence of the place lingered and was almost tangible.
Next up was a cathedral in the tiny town of Kilfenora. Built around the twelfth century, it's mainly known for its highly ornate and varied high crosses, but what mostly caught my eye were the various faces carved sticking out above doorways, and carved style coffins in a style I had never seen before (and wouldn't see again until finding an Anglo-Saxon tomb in England).
We stopped for lunch in the picturesque town of Doolin...but this was the only picture I got because despite having an hour there, our food order was misplaced at the pub we all went to and we ended up spending most of our time waiting for our meal. Couldn't really blame the poor staff as they were trying to deal with one bus right after the other, but it still slightly soured the experience. Until of course...
THE CLIFFS OF...MOHER. The winds were strong but the sun was shining bright on what the driver assured us was one of the only thirty days or so without rain that Ireland gets each year.
We had two choices before us from where the bus stopped. Either go to the left along the oft photographed cliffs, or go to the right and get what the driver said was the better view (at least that we could get in the 90 minutes we had there). We took the driver's advice and went right.
On top of the first hill an old watchtower greeted us, as well as our first real look down. It's practically impossible to impress upon you, dear reader, the pure magnitude of that drop. To stand and look at a piece of nature that is several skyscrapers tall...you can do nothing but drop your jaw in awe and try not to completely freak out as the wind tries to push you towards the edge.
There's also nothing that can quite prepare you for this view:
This is from Ashlen's turn, after I had done it. I lasted about twenty seconds and suffered a mild panic attack, my first in years. You look down and there is nothing beneath you. You know in your head that there's no way the shelf you're on will fall, but animal instinct takes over and makes you feel like the ground is shifting and you're headed straight over the edge. I've never had a large fear of heights, but this height brought it on full force at about four times what I've ever experienced. Definitely not for the faint of heart or those with a severe fear of heights, unless you really feel like pushing yourself.
Further on the path narrowed and made it clear that beyond that point, you're off the most beaten path. We had enough time so we ventured a little further and found this curious shrine, dedicated to friends who had travelled to the future. It was situated around a corner in a little nook, which thankfully gave me the time I needed to decompress in Ashlen's arms and recover my breath from the panic attack. Curious about the shrine's history, and thankful for the respite from the heights, we made our way back to the bus.
The last stop was our driver's personal favorite, a stretch of popcorn limestone with a beautiful view of the water and the cliffs in the distance. He even took us a little further up than where most of the buses stopped and just took a couple quiet minutes to breathe the air and enjoy the view. It was a nice touch.
Well, that and the tiny yet fully grown horses we spotted on the way back.
In Summation
Galway treated us very well. It's near the top of my list of places I want to go back to. Great music, great archeology, great culture. Plus, it's fairly easy to get to the Cliffs of Moher from there, which shouldn't be missed (panic attack or no).
But for now, onward we go to Killarney, the Dingle peninsula, and the Ring of Kerry!
To be continued...
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