Guinness, Irish Coffee, and Old Irish Men
“I was jumping into my own personal chalk drawing of reality…”
The sound of waves crashing took over my senses. I could hear the swoosh as they dropped down against the cliffs, smell the salty air, feel the cold wind violently brush against my uncovered face, and see the ice cold blue water juxtapose the white sea foam.
It just all seemed unreal. To be standing on the Cliffs of Moher.
Traveling to Ireland was a long-time dream of mine. Not because of funny leprechauns or Guinness, but because of the nature. Seeing images of wide open fields of green grass and lingering farm animals inspired me.
I wanted to live in a place like this.
A place where I would wake up in the morning, drink some jasmine tea, and look out the window at scenery that looked painted.
Imagining Ireland and physically being there obviously did not feel the same, but had one characteristic in common: both made me feel as if I was living within a painting: not a famous one, but like one hung in the dining room of a simple and elegant Bed and Breakfast.
Being in Ireland in person made me feel like I was living in the Mary Poppins movie, where the chalk drawings come to life. I was jumping into my own personal chalk drawing of reality.
Boarding my plane from Dusseldorf Weeze to Ireland was one of the most exciting flights of my life. Not because of the rocky turbulence or snacks passed around by flight attendants, but because I was on my way to what I believed to be a magical place.
Oh- and I also had a window seat. That always helps.
By the time we landed, had gone through customs, and made it to our hostel in Dublin, it was around 9pm. For the two nights and three days that I would be spending in Ireland, I slept at Abigail’s Hostel in a six-female dorm.
The friends I was traveling with were dispersed in different rooms. This was not necessarily a bad thing, as we were not always placed in the same rooms for hostels, but this time it just felt different.
Arriving at Abigail’s, the atmosphere seemed fun and uplifting, but once you entered the actual dorms, the feeling changed. They weren’t dirty or filled with bed bugs, which is anyone’s worst nightmare, but just really needed an update.
There were cracks in the wallpaper, and the beds looked rusty and uncomfortable. I guess you could say that I was spoiled when it came to hostels traveling through Europe, because Abigail’s really was not that bad. Just not as modern. Not to mention I never truly got a chance to meet my roommates, which is always nerve wracking when you are traveling around with your passport and personal belongings.
Besides the hostel situation, Dublin and Ireland as a whole were beyond my expectations.
The first night in Dublin, a group of us went to a small bar to grab our first real irish Guinness.
When I say real irish, I mean the real Guinness.
For those of you thinking that you are drinking the real deal here in the States, you might want to book yourself a ticket to Ireland as soon as possible. Yes, it’s that much better.
At the bars throughout our trips we met many characters. The most memorable however was an old irish man who was so drunk that he told us he drove his mentally ill son to the mountains and left him there. Yes, I know that the sound of this is pretty appalling, but I can’t change what he said.
Not only did he tell us this story- I’m sparing you the gritty details- but continued to talk to us for the next three hours. The conversation included many more offensive stories that covered all categories of racism, sexism, and deliberate stupidity.
After fighting against buying tour tickets, I finally gave in so that I could see the countryside.
That’s the one thing about Dublin. The city was great, but you either had to buy a tour or rent a car to see the vast nature and big tourist spots like the cliffs or Blarney Stone.
I ended up buying the tour through Viator, which can sometimes be pricey for what you get. I purchased a tour for a day trip to the Cliffs of Moher for about $53.00.
Surprisingly, it was worth every penny.
We left Dublin at 6am to make our way through Limerick, Doolin, Burren National Park, and County Clare to see the cliffs.
I saw the River Shannon, the street where the beginning of the memoir Angela’s Ashes takes place, and a chocolatier all on the way to our larger destinations.
Little places, but grand memories.
Making it to the cliffs was one of the most exciting stops on the tour. We really lucked out, as the fog wasn’t too thick so we were able to see all of the surrounding area. On the cliffs, there are trails that you can walk on that let you see the view from every angle, but beware: they are all very slippery. Sneakers or traction footwear is necessary.
On the tour, the group makes a quick lunch stop in a little town named Doolin. The restaurant is buffet style, but gives you mouth watering options to choose from like Guinness beef stew, juicy lamb, and thyme seasoned salmon. I ordered the beef stew and and irish coffee, both of which were highly fattening, but definite comfort food.
The coffee, as Bud has explained to us, was much different than the “irish coffee” that is advertised in the States. It’s dark roasted and has approximately two shots of irish whiskey mixed in, and then is finished off with a dollop of thick cream.
In order to fully enjoy the hot drink, you sip slowly, making sure that the cream doesn’t sink to the bottom or mix in with the actual coffee. By doing so, you allow the two textures and tastes to combine while in your mouth, creating a smooth and warming feeling as you swallow.
From Doolin, our tour left to Burren National Park, a park so beautiful that stepping out of the tour van, I could barely snap myself back into what seemed like a dream. The ground was all stone, and if you walked further, you were faced with the icy waves of the Atlantic decorated with little wild flowers.
This is what I came to Ireland for.
Without knowing, I was living in my own dream, and was completely and utterly in love with it.
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