Ireland is a place I'd always kept near the top of my must-see destinations, right up there with Zanzibar, Antarctica and a Swiss chocolate factory. Hand me nearly a week of free time to travel at leisure, and naturally I will make one of these my destination.
Ireland "Picturesque" was all I could envision; greens and rolling hills, wide open spaces and blue water. I must say, I was right on the money.
We set off on Thursday morning, jumped three trains through Wales and then finally, a ferry (cousin of a cruise ship, complete with crazy overpriced concessions and comfy chairs) from Holyhead to the Dublin port. It was a long, but really cool journey. I'm glad we took the train/ferry route, as I saw English countryside and got to feel like I was on the Titanic.
The Ulysses brought us safely to Ireland.
WE. MADE. IT! My travel buddies Shayla and Kayla and I greet Ireland!
On the ferry, freshly arrived in windy Dublin.
After jumping a bus to the Dublin city centre, my travel companions and I tracked down hostel numero uno. I was a bit sketched out because we'd arranged to stay in a mixed room of 18 people. Awkward would describe this, also uncomfortable; we were surrounded by men in their 30's to 50's, many whose faces I never saw, only their shape under a comforter. I might have slept with an eye open, and even with my belongings securely locked up, I felt slightly paranoid. This was just for an evening, luckily, and the next morning we trekked to our departure point to begin our 3-day bus tour of Northern Ireland.
Groggy, greasy, and half awake, I boarded our coach, surrounded by the unfamiliarity of foreign faces and idiom. My awareness kept me awake, and soon I became accustomed to the context, and the Irish countryside.
Within the first hour of driving, I witnessed not one but two rainbows. It was like something straight out of a Lucky Charms commercial, minus the leprechaun. That day included a number of stops to our destination, Derry: a trip to the twelfth century Anglo Norman Trim Castle, then a long hike to the top of an epic hill to see the prehistoric tombs at Lough Crew. We ventured through Enniskillen and Omagh, two Northern towns with a violent history between Republicans and Loyalists.
That evening in Derry we got the low down on the history of the city, from medieval times to the recent protests (Derry is the site of
Bloody Sunday), and visited many murals and Bogside where the fatal incidents occurred. A acutely grave experience, but extremely insightful. I felt very naive in my ignorance, having maintained I should know these things that are going on around the world.
The tour's end led a group to a fantastic restaurant, where I had my first taste of goat's cheese, rizotto, and pea and lentil soup. And of course, a night in Ireland must be capped by a visit to the local pub. The one we went to was packed, with live music, the whole bit. Locals everywhere having a wild evening about the town, and plenty of drink. I enjoyed a cider and got to know the others I was on tour with, before heading back for a night of sleep at a less sketchy hostel (no more of that 18 person room business)!
Saturday was chilly. We made our way to the coast en route to Belfast. A coastal drive led us to the 16th century Dunlace Castle perched at the extreme edge of a cliff on the Antrim Coast (legend claims that during a party one evening, the kitchen collapsed into the sea). From there it was just minutes to Giant's Causeway, brilliant stones and beautiful water. It was so incredibly cold, but I forced myself to enjoy the moment. I knew I was lucky to be in such a place.
At Giant's Causeway, Antrim Coast.
Perfect stones at Giant's Causeway. God only knows how this was formed.
The pace changed as we visited the world's oldest whiskey distillery,
Bushmill's, which has been around since 1608. I didn't drink (whiskey, yuck!) just enjoyed watching others sample.
Hours later we made it into Belfast, and rested up before catching a nice dinner (across the street from the Hotel Europa, Belfast's most bombed building). We moved to a pub next door that was absolutely decked to the nines, floor to ceiling, with character. Again, a great Irish atmosphere. I turned in early, but not to the sound of silent streets; rather, sirens and voices could be heard from below, all through the night. Belfast never sleeps.
Hotel Europa, infamous for bombing.
And then it was Easter. The morning brought a "Black Cab Tour" of Belfast — our group was escorted around in, you guessed it — black cabs. We visited the infamous neighborhoods of the city, where all sorts of chaos has occurred throughout the past decades, even up to today. The giant barrier between Catholic and Protestant neighborhoods is smothered with graffiti expressing the wishes for peace. By the sounds of the tour guides, the people of Northern Ireland are still scraping for harmony and normalcy in their lives.
Wall in Belfast separating conflicting neighborhoods.
Murals in Belfast.
Glass scattered on the grounds of a Protestant neighborhood in Belfast. You can see in the distance some of the many murals painted on the sides of buildings, commemorating those that lost their lives amongst the conflict.
We slipped out of Belfast in the afternoon, Dublin bound once again. Several of the girls on the tour placed Easter chocolate on our seats in the bus, and this was a highlight of the day. I am so used to having all of the Easter trimmings: eggs, candy, maybe a new pair of socks. A treat made the day feel like a Holiday, and not another day roaming through Irish countryside (not that there's anything wrong with that...!). Nevertheless, it was really neat to spend Easter in a foreign country with a bunch of strangers.
Small town Ireland, on our way to Dublin.
Pit stop at
Monasterboice.
I was looking forward to a night in Dublin, though ventures were somewhat dampened by our 6 a.m. flight back to London. I drank my first Guinness* (I wasn't going to leave Ireland without doing so) at the Temple Bar, whilst listening to a wonderful Irish trio play authentic tunes, surrounded by others wallowing in libations. Again, I felt as though I were in a movie. Zig-zagging through the lanes of the city, amidst street lights and celebration, music, and inebriation. It was a strange, beautiful thing. Dublin is strangely beautiful in this sense, that in my opinion, there is not much to say about the landscape itself, but rather the events that take place. By day the setting is monochrome, almost sullen under oft-gray sky, and come evening, it exists in vast color. There is nothing like it, or perhaps — nothing that I have seen.
My first Guinness, at Temple Bar in Dublin.
Atmosphere of Temple Bar
Dublin street
Evening in Dublin. This made me so happy, to see all of these people having a good time!
Evening progressed all too suddenly. A few quick hours of sleep at the hostel and my companions and I were in a taxi, on our way. A plane, then bus ride throughout the afternoon set us in Oxford entirely exhausted.
But Ireland — oh my. What land! What lovely, lovely land.
