Travel, 50+, Ireland

The first time I arrived to the Emerald Isle, I instantly and unwittingly brewed a storm. The very first meal was being ordered and, since they did not have a drinks list anywhere, I had the audacity to ask: "Do you have any other Irish beer, but Guinness?" Now... My logic was that I have already tried Guinness and it's available everywhere anyway, so I want to try something else. Their logic, however, was something completely different. Only a few steps away, I could hear another waitress loudly whispering "What did he say?" Not much later, I could hear the kitchen not quite whisper (by a long shot): "What did he say!?" ...

They did.

While the Irish are generally friendly, their spiritual essence does have a few sore toes sticking out and you do not want to stomp on those things. If you do, no licking other people's drool off a stone at Blarney Castle will help you. No amount of four-leaf clover harvested will aid. Not even catching a Leprechaun or shoving something in the mouth of a shrieking banshee to silence her calls for death... no wait, that actually worked. This is to say, Ireland is full of magic. It's probably why they had to ban it when the Christianity took a solid hold over the island.

Talking about Christian things, I had to, of course, visit the Saint Patrick's island. He's the guy who hates snakes almost as much as Indy. You binge drink in his hate filled honor and some American cities even color their rivers snake green to remind us all it's not only about drinking and pretending you're somehow one quarter of a sixth Irish (although you could be as they have talked their way into many gene pools), or, as the Irish call people like this: Plastic Paddy. So, I learned that Saint Patrick was a bit of a character. According to the local lore, he lived on his island just him and his goat. The locals say he was very close to his goat. Like somewhat overlapping, if you know what I mean. The lore also tells that one day a local, for a savage craic (obviously!), stole the goat. Crushed, but enraged, St Patrick lashed out by turning all the locals in the village into farm animals until they apologized.

Since I don't leave loose ends, I paced through the Saint Patrick's way to completion. I learned that the former rulers seriously expected Napoleon to attack and invade the island. They erected multiple stubby towers called Martello towers to prevent such travesty. I also learned a lot about Irish parenting and witnessed a young lad negotiate the purest split I have ever seen. The boy was playing on top of those spinning chairs you have on some playgrounds. He was trying to impress some of the other kids and made some moves whilst on top of the chair that, as one might expect, spun around and the boy did a magnificent back flip. Reading on his facial features, it was not quite planned. He landed on the ground with a perfect split like he was doing one of those Nutcracker ballet jumps. There was a moment of dead silence. Even the wind stopped with an "Oof-face". Then, vibrating from a fire alarm to a foghorn, they boy made sure everyone on the other side of the Irish Sea would hear of his performance. A few steps away, the boy's mother visibly sighed as she pushed her knees to get up from her seat. She walked up to the boy and said, with an unimpressed face and a melodic Irish monotone, "Come on. You didn't even feel it."

I also gained personal experience on what "an Irish tan" is. It means you turn from translucent white to burning red in an afternoon or less.

While no tourist seems to know Skerries, Galway is far more popular. It's easy to take the train and go out there, not expecting to see anything in particular and then seeing just that. Or, let's be fair, you will be seeing a lot of people seeing a lot of people. Most of them packed on one or two shopping streets which, mind you, has a few good shops. Although, it can be a bit of a bummer going into a specialist store selling local lore items and hearing an American accent out of the store clerks mouth. Were you courageous enough to explore outside downtown, you will find plenty of nature worth a blink or two. You might also learn why the Irish are a little different from the rest of the world.

While this behavior is somewhat unexplained, it is happening in a lot of places internationally. In Ireland, it is Molly Malone who fell victim to it. I am talking about rubbing the tender bits while filming it in still or video. There was an endless queue of people waiting to polish a bit while being immortalized standing next to Molly. Most of them women. But then, I guess the men are more interested in having a bit of a bar crawl. While in general, this tends to happen within a very small area, it may explain why the Irish five minutes lasts so long. It is not only the tourists, but also locals going something akin to "I'll be there in a jiffy", then trying to walk straight twenty pints deep and, uh, face challenges.

To add as a finish, I have rarely seen sport fans being such a sport to everyone. One of my visits happened during Gaelic Football playoffs and I have never seen fans being so amicable to one another. Drinking and partying together along the streets and, while I had to struggle to get in the hotel like it's Tokyo rush hour, not a peep through the night. You have my praise, nods and claps (at least the ones I came across). Absolutely commendable action from ya.

The Judgment:
Ireland is a painfully expensive place to visit, nowadays. It was already above average a decade ago, but now it's definitely in the top six or seven in Europe. It's still cheap to fly in and out. The trains are acceptably priced, but then... You will hurt. On the other hand, it is a special place. The Irish humor, way of life, coming across the oddities performed by the Irish travellers, the nature... It is worth a visit. To note, in recent times, a lot of "patriots" have tried to paint Ireland having become festered with big fat societal and financial problems, streets being sprinkled with crime and tent cities popping left and right. I just did not see that. The money's tight on the common man, sure, but the picture painted by the internet "patriots" simply does not exist. Also, suspiciously many of them seem to be from England or Russia. That is to say, Ireland is safe to visit (only requires common sense preparation and rudimentary street smarts).

While Dublin is rather cosmopolitan, outside it, most places are still quite Irish. Not that Dublin isn't. It's just expanded beyond Irish (largely at the behest of international corporations and, on the other hand, with the help of such as Ryanair). So, in brief, if you want to experience more than rubbing off Molly and gulping down the workman's friend at Temple Bar for ig and show-off, you might want to consider elsewhere. If you do, do your homework. Just going to a random (locally) big city (Galway or Cork, probably) won't cut it. Also, no. Not everyone speaks Gaeilge and if they teach you some, you have probably been had one way or another.

There would be other things to say, but I'll just leave you with this. For now.

Would I go again? Yes.