Inishmore

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14 May, Saturday

I woke up early and found Mike sitting in a chair in the hallway looking dazed (but probably less than me) and only slightly confused. There was some confusion on the bedding assignments in his triple with Joe and Lynn and he ended up bunking with Scott and Beth. Mike had been in England for two weeks so jet lag wasn’t an issue. I decided to sit in the breakfast room to take some notes and he decided to take a walk in the wind. The skies were clear, but the wind was gusting pretty seriously.

Slowly the crowd began to assemble for breakfast. This was no doubt going to be an adventure as I would have to explain to them one by one what the menu meant and what was included in the price (do I get cereal AND yogurt AND eggs AND bacon …), what are those little round things, my explanation followed each time by some shrieking and cringing from Marj. At one point, Joe inquired loudly as to what the separate plumbing devise next to the toilet might be used for. Mike and I politely explained that it would be impolite to explain, particularly in a loud raucous fashion, as most of the conversation seemed to be. I looked at this table full of beaming faces and thought “What have I done? What could have possessed me to have engaged in the kind of abuse that would bring a group of unseasoned European travelers to Ireland, throwing them in separate cars, unleashing them on the countryside and feel as if I had some responsibility for their fun and safety. I have got to stay away from bars.”

The wind was still whipping anything that could be whipped around so I decided to make a quick trip down to the dock to see if the boats would sail that day. I arrived just as the owner of the shipping company did and he made it clear that it was highly unlikely that we would be catching a boat any time in the next twenty four hours. Lynn and Joe later encountered an angry mob of Texas women (okay, two, but it must have felt like a mob) begging, pleading, verbally abusing and then starting all over again. Their plan was to convince the skipper that he should put the lives of himself, his crew and anyone else foolish enough to board the ship in serious peril just to get the poor weary travelers out to Inishmore. You see, we had a Plan B. I got on the mobile and called Aer Aran and told them I had nine people to fly to Inishmore that night. The woman asked what time we would like to fly. I took a guess at a relaxed travel time (about 4½ hours) and we were set for a chartered flight at 2:30. The plane holds nine, we had nine and they just arranged for us based on our needs. This turned out to be a very good plan.

We all packed overnight bags (so that the plane would be able to get off the ground) and started the trip around Galway Bay to Inverin and the Connemara Regional Airport. All but Joe and Lynn followed and yet I still managed to lose Bob and Marj for a moment. We stopped at the Poulnabrone Dolman. Tourism is beginning to catch up to this sight and it is now roped off to keep the visitors away. There is also a path to lead you out to it. What hasn’t happened is the building of a parking lot and buses and cars alike must find a place to pull over on the side of the road. This pretty much means parking with at least half of the car on a road just wide enough for two cars. By US standards such parking were be considered a criminal offense, the owners would be fined heavily and their cars towed or clamped. In Ireland , it’s darned courteous that we went to the trouble of actually getting two of the wheels of the road.

Scott and Beth had spent a lot of time on the mobile phones tracking down the errant bag and others had made some calls home to advise their family that they were still alive, so the free time included on the phones were about up. We stopped in Ballyvaughn to top them up which can easily be done at most convenience stores. A note on Mobile phones: Generally, the cost of basic services to the Irish are pretty high and pay as you go mobile service is no exception. We happen to own two unlocked GSM phones which are nice to have available especially when you are lost. They are very valuable if folks are trying to meet up while on the road. Otherwise, for just making a few calls here and there, buying a phone card is a better deal. Some US outlets sell international calling cards that make it pretty inexpensive to call the States for overseas. The UK , on the other hand, has pretty reasonable per minute rates.

We pulled out of the petrol station in Ballyvaughn and soon found ourselves by chance, right behind Lynn and Joe. Joe managed a deft curb slam while we were following him which opened up opportunities for abuse down the road. I decided to stop so that the folks behind me could snap a photo of Dunguaire. We didn’t have enough time for a tour but it was a nice photo op. Joe and Lynn were never aware of our presence and had just continued on.

Now it was to begin. I was to lead my merry band of thieves through the city of Galway, roundabouts and all and into a Gaeltacht area of Ireland. I’m not a big fan of leading the way at any point because I’d rather look at was it in front of me than constantly worry what is behind me. This of course established the constant leit motif of the trip: “Are the behind us?” which came banging into my ears again and again as we wandered around with a string of happy yet nervous travelers in tow. I described what was about to happen. They all seemed to understand. As I was climbing back into the Sultry Citroen, Bob, unbeknownst to me, roared off, testosterone spewing from his BMW exhaust pipe, bent on proving that he could do this without my assistance. I was unaware of his departure and kept looking behind be as the phrase turned to, “they aren’t behind us, they aren’t behind us!!!” I stopped and Beth and Scott explained that they had motored on ahead.

Getting through Galway proved to be painless enough if only because I had only one tail behind me and Scott had quickly become very adept at following and yes, even driving in this strange land. He even figured out how to get my attention when his bladder had become dangerously full and so we stopped for what turned out to be a lengthy toilet break. Snacks were purchased and we chatted for a bit because we had plenty of time to get to Inverin. We arrived at about the same time as Bob and Marj who had gotten lost in Galway and had been scurrying around so much they hadn’t the chance to enjoy petrol station cuisine and toilets.

Flying to the Arans is a fantastic option and an excellent choice for anyone that has a sea sickness issue. Upon arrival EVERYONE must weigh in while carrying whatever they plan to carry on their person. Bags are weighed separately. Seats are assigned by weight and the skinniest person gets to sit up front with the pilot. Lynn won this contest and was in a position to take over control of the plane in case the pilot blacked out. All wouldn’t have been lost because she has trained to fly a small plane, but we didn’t want to test her skills.

The flight to Inishmore is 10 minutes and a beautiful ride. The cost, because we were a group of 4 people or more, was €37 pp return. The cost from Doolin is on the boat is €35. There are more times available with the plane, you spend very little time in transit and it’s all pretty easy to do. I’m not sure I would take the boat at this point.

We landed on Inishmore where Beth had been told her bag would be waiting at the pier. We were met by Peader who would take us to our B&B in our minivan for a mere €5 pp. BUT …for an additional €5 he would give us a tour of the island. This seemed like a fine idea and he volunteered to take us over to the pier to look for Beth’s bag. It wasn’t there and no one seemed to know if the boat from Doolin had made the trip. Beth would be forced to endure another day of Guinness panties and Scott’s clothes.

Peader was a jack of all trades, bus driver, fisherman, farmer, sheep herder and of course, rock and roll musician. He lead us through the narrow roads of Inishmore and told amusing jokes and stories that he had no doubt told hundreds of times before but managed to do it with enough freshness to be convincing. Dun Aengus was our first stop which is really the big hitter on Inishmore. There is, of course a gift shop which Peader advertised heavily as being the most authentic place to buy an Aran sweater. I’m guessing he gets a cut. The walk up the hill is not particularly strenuous but ones eyes tend to focus on the rather slick pathway as you climb and less attention is paid to what awaits at the top. I casually approached what I soon realized was the edge of the world and found myself staring up the coast at the Cliffs of Moher on the mainland with the cliffs of Inishmore dropping straight below me. I could have easily walked off them.

The exact age of this site is unknown, but it is thought be a millennium or two old perhaps built by the Fir Bolgs, a Celtic people. It is yet another of the enormous number of sites in Ireland that are spell binding in their tranquility and awe inspiring in their grandeur. The setting is remarkable, high above the see on the cliffs and whatever it was used for, and however it was used, it was an imposing fortress. Mike and I stood near the cliffs edge and watched the water crashing below as we gazed out to the mainland. Our plane had flown over this site just 36 hours before yet thoughts of flying passenger contraptions were too far from our current reality.

That reality was broken by the current day reality that Peader would leave us behind so we hustled down the path back to the parking area. Not surprisingly, we were given a little extra time to spend some Euros in the gift shop. Peader then took us to the seven churches where we met a whole bus full of folks in obscenely brightly colored tourist outfits and bright white trainers, no doubt purchased just for this trip. The glow from their clothing was creating a possible over exposure threat for our photography. They soon left and we had a little more time to enjoy the area.

Peader dropped us off at An Crugan which is a comfortable place with some very nice views out across Galway Bay to Connemara . We were only staying for a night so it wasn’t a problem to pack light and leave the rest of our belongings in the car. A word of advice … Don’t leave the items in the car in full view. Be sure to pack them in the trunk (or boot). We all found our way to our rooms and the triple had three single beds which made our single people happy. The plan was to walk to town for dinner, checking as we went what would be available. As it turned out, there wasn’t much, but the Pier House looked good though not cheap. When we got there the place was packed and room for nine was not available. None-the-less, the kind staff stated they would do what they could to make some tables available, seating us in separate groups. In the interim, we were able to order a couple of bottles of wine that we enjoyed in a sitting room off to the side. The Pier House is also a guesthouse and I would imagine breakfast is exceptional. While we waited, the wait staff added to their unbelievably hectic evening by bringing us fresh bread and cheese. This is certainly a fine place to eat though you might want to scrounge under the sofa cushions for a little extra change.

We walked back towards our B&B with full stomachs but just enough room for beer. There was a pub along the way with some live tunes so we wandered in. It was pretty noisy and thus hard to hear which made Felicity want to catch some sleep. Beth and Scott hung around and heard some fine solo singing at the end of the night. It was time for some rest though and we were glad to get some.

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