Seeing the Other Side of the Atlantic

I’ve just returned to Dublin from a fantastic weekend in Galway, a city on the western coast of Ireland.

Yet for how much fun the weekend was, the minute I stepped off the bus I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Perhaps it was because the three-and-a-half hour ride, though a mere five Euros, was draining and slightly uncomfortable. Perhaps it was because I was ready to take a shower in my bathroom and wash my clothes. Perhaps it was because I was exhausted and was ready to go to sleep.

All these reasons, however, can be lumped under the umbrella of feeling relief when you return home from a trip. And this first trip made me realize the status the wonderful city of Dublin has as my home at this moment in my life. In other words, I am starting to think that I have begun to make the transition from “trip mentality” to “home living mentality.”

To backtrack to my wonderful weekend, I will mention a few highlights:

We arrived Friday night, and stayed at a hostel called Snoozles—perhaps the most convenient location, friendly staff, affordable pricing, and overall appeal of a hostel (even though I was expecting the worst since this was my first hostel experience).

We made Saturday a day trip to the Aran Islands, or rather one of the Aran Islands, Inish Mor. This was an incredible place to visit, and a certain must-do if you ever spend time in Ireland, especially on the west coast. Hopefully, if you do, you’ll get as nice weather as we did—perfect, sunny, high 60s, a slight breeze, and no rain or clouds in sight. Renting bikes for the day is the way to go, because you can virtually cover the entire island in just a few hours, leaving time for sightseeing. The highlight was parking our bikes and hiking up to an old fort; however, the fort wasn’t incredibly interesting. The real pleasure was the location of the fort, perched at the edge of a massive cliff that dropped straight down 300 feet into the Atlantic Ocean. It was absolutely breath-taking, especially peering over the edge to the brilliant water below. Looking out into the horizon was also surreal, because I realized that somewhere, far out there was New Jersey, and the east coast of the United States. Despite the 3000 mile divide, I felt oddly connected to my friends and family back home.

Sunday was a nice day to stroll around the city of Galway, and we enjoyed a fantastic lunch at McSwiggin’s (many thanks to Sarah for the recommendation!). I also got a run in in the morning, which was clutch because a) I didn’t bring my running shoes for nothing, and b) I needed to get the soreness out of my legs from biking.

An interesting observation about the entire weekend was how much different aspects of the trip reminded me of places I’ve been in the US. Galway is a charming coastal city, full of winding streets lined with brightly painted shops with decorative signs hanging above their doors and flower beds crawling out their windows. It sort of reminded me of a quaint New England beach town—like Edgartown on the Vineyard. The ferry ride to the Aran Islands reminded me of my visit to Block Island with Sarah this summer, although the animals on the island were much less exotic and much more in their wild habitats. Driving around the coast made me think of Maine or Cape Cod, with houses set back from the road and tiers of lawn that are highlighted by stone walls and flowerbeds. Come to think of it, the bus ride to Galway reminded me of driving to St. Louis, passing through farmland and flat fields of Ohio and Indiana.

All this is just to say that new experiences are sometimes not too far removed from past ones in certain independent aspects. It’s easy to fall into comparisons with things and places you are familiar with. But the moment of experience, the amalgamation of all these assorted familiar aspects will never cease to provide you with a new, perhaps tiring, and hopefully wonderful encounter.