Ireland Ireland
The air was thick with moisture, threatening to burst at any second. I looked around at the never-ending grass. It swayed in response to the angry ocean, a sea of green looming around me.
Ireland was a fever dream. A culture shock I didn’t quite expect. Foreign phrases hung thick with heavy accents and muddled my understanding of a language I thought I spoke perfectly. Inconspicuous bones, distant lighthouses, lively foul-mouthed pubs, track suits in the fog, and yes, an abundance of redheads, Ireland was everything I expected and somehow still a shock.
Dublin
I got to Dublin on a Wednesday morning with my friend after a stress-inducing flight and was greeted by Gaelic signs and colorful doors. I spent a few hours hiding my sick self (yes, my body had the wonderful idea of getting sick the day before my trip) from the wind and finally settled into a park to read for a bit and take in the city.
That night, alone, I wandered aimlessly, trying to soak in the experience and not the cold. Sick and tired, I walked until I came upon a pub. Warm light spilled out onto the street as the music from a fiddle reached my ears. Helpless to the call of a new experience, I obliged my intuition and frozen fingers and walked in. With a Guinness in hand (another requirement of being in Ireland), I sat and listened to an Irish rendition of ‘Country Roads’, clapping and jeering included, and had the feeling that I was dreaming.
One of the best things about traveling is that your world expands.
As a person, you shrink in comparison to every new experience you encounter.
All of these places, people, situations happening at the same time. The funny little particle that is you floating around trying to experience it all.
Cork
The next day, I took a bus down to Cork to meet up with a friend who was from there. They spent the day showing me around their hometown, each block revealing a memory until the whole city seemed to be telling a story. Cobblestone streets and ivy covered buildings were interrupted by burgers and chips (fries but when in Rome and all that) during the trip. My short adventure in Cork with my very own guide helped me understand my friend and her country in a much deeper way.
Laytown
My last few days in Ireland were spent in Laytown with a childhood friend. What an incredibly random place to end up in. Beautiful, quiet, mellow Laytown. It was one of those villages where everything doubles as something else.
The pub was also the cafe was also the pizzeria was also the inn.
We walked the span of the town in five minutes, passing a bookkeeper for the races, a Fish and Chips, and a basket of free cooking apples along the way. We walked along the stretch of beach, following in the footsteps of horses and dogs from dawn. It was a quiet infiniteness that reminds you that there are other paths in life. Not everything is hustle and bustle and trains and planes. Sometimes it’s paces, beaches, teas and neighbors. We stood in an ocean of never-ending grass, suddenly enveloped in the landscape, looking at the angry sea. It was so peaceful.
Though my trip was short, I do think I got the feeling of Ireland. Through the cold, stark beauty and rain splattering your face, there is always a lit pub at the end of the journey, laughter and a fiddle ready to invite you in.
P.S
If you’ve read to this point, enjoy some candid/controversial observations from my time in Ireland 🙂
- yes, there are many redheads
- Many guys in Dublin look like they belong in some kind of modern run down peaky blinders mafia group
- Buildings are narrow and rectangular but many have pretty arched doors that are colored
- Girls dress like middle school USA meets Beverly Hills accessories/makeup
- Irish fiddle slaps, Guinness is not my favorite
- Little houses dot the rolling hills of the countryside, bright sheep and cows painting the landscape
- “Awe look at this fecking shit you’ve fecked it all up” – the unanimous response to someone messing with the pub tv during a horse race
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