After a few layovers and about 14 hours, Tarrah and I both arrived in Dublin from our respective flights and reunited in the baggage claim around 8:30am Dublin time. After retrieving my over-packed backpack from the carousel, we headed straight to Enterprise where I had pre-reserved an automatic Ford Fiesta from Alamo that I would be driving for our 2 days in Ireland. (In Europe, stick shifts are the norm so we had made sure to reserve an automatic vehicle weeks in advance.)
A the enterprise airport popup, we were greeted by a friendly and warm red-headed Irish woman who talked us into getting the basic insurance coverage and pre-paying for the fuel (decisions we were very happy for later) and upgraded us free of charge to a Ford Focus. Next, we hopped on a shuttle which drove us across the street to where they keep the rental cars. It was in this brief 5-minute stretch that I decided I should learn everything there is to know about driving in Ireland and began bombarding the shuttle driver with tips on how I could keep us from crashing/going above our basic coverage.
Considering that my driving skills at home are quite the butt of everyone's jokes (when I was 17 I had been in so many accidents that I received a letter saying if I was in one more infraction I'd be deemed ineligible by the state of California to drive and just last month I managed to get hit by a legit tractor) - I was admittedly nervous about driving a vehicle on the left side of the road with a steering wheel on the other side. That being said, my desire to see Galway and hit the open Irish road outweighed my concern for Tarrah and my general safety.
"Just make sure to stay on the left and ye'll be ok lassie." said the shuttle driver in his thick and wonderfully comforting Irish accent. "Also, the Americans always forget our round about go clockwise so stick to the left. If you get nervous about exiting the round about, just keep going around and around until you feel safe."
Seemed like solid advice.
A the enterprise airport popup, we were greeted by a friendly and warm red-headed Irish woman who talked us into getting the basic insurance coverage and pre-paying for the fuel (decisions we were very happy for later) and upgraded us free of charge to a Ford Focus. Next, we hopped on a shuttle which drove us across the street to where they keep the rental cars. It was in this brief 5-minute stretch that I decided I should learn everything there is to know about driving in Ireland and began bombarding the shuttle driver with tips on how I could keep us from crashing/going above our basic coverage.
Considering that my driving skills at home are quite the butt of everyone's jokes (when I was 17 I had been in so many accidents that I received a letter saying if I was in one more infraction I'd be deemed ineligible by the state of California to drive and just last month I managed to get hit by a legit tractor) - I was admittedly nervous about driving a vehicle on the left side of the road with a steering wheel on the other side. That being said, my desire to see Galway and hit the open Irish road outweighed my concern for Tarrah and my general safety.
"Just make sure to stay on the left and ye'll be ok lassie." said the shuttle driver in his thick and wonderfully comforting Irish accent. "Also, the Americans always forget our round about go clockwise so stick to the left. If you get nervous about exiting the round about, just keep going around and around until you feel safe."
Seemed like solid advice.
(Tarrah and I with our sweet new ride)
After being introduced to our new Ford Fiesta and Kaelin, a beautiful young Irishman who managed to upsell us on the roadside coverage (an additional 6 euros a day and worth every penny as you'll find out later), we hit the left side of the road.
Driving on the left side of the road and having the steering wheel on the right side of the car was a bit strange at first, but after a mild panic attack and twice around on the first round-a-bout before exiting, I felt considerably more at ease to take on our 2 hour drive across the country of Ireland to Galway. Starving and sleep deprived, Tarrah and I stopped at something off the freeway called "Apple Greens" (from the outside it looked like a 7-11 or a truck stop). It was here that we first realized we weren't in the United States anymore. Inside "Apple Greens" was everything you would hope for in a truck stop, but would never have - incredible baked goods, delicious espresso, freshly made bacon, freshly made sausage...it was heavenly.
(They call this a "brown scone" - not sure if that means wheat or if it's just referring to the color - either way, it was amazing).
After filling our bellies and souls, we continued on our journey to Galway and eventually made it to our hostel (Snoozles). We parked the car in a nearby lot which our hostel had a discount with, checked in, and immediately went out to grab a Guinness and see the sites.
(Tarrah having her first taste of Ireland. Surprise, she liked it)
In addition to beer and a slew of Irish cuties, Galway is an incredible city and definitely worth visiting (Having previously been to Dublin, I would even recommend it over Dublin if you don't have time for both). The city itself is beautiful and photos don't do the landscape justice. Additionally, there is live music EVERYWHERE and the nightlife is amazing. As Tarrah and I walked the rowdy streets, every 5 steps we were greeted with the sweet melodies of an incredibly talented musical act, warm smiles, and an infectious energy.
(The streets of Galway)
After walking around for a few hours, grabbing some fish and chips at McDonaghs and seeing everything from a medieval parish built in the 14th century to a talented Irish streetband playing "wagon wheel", we realized our 36 hours of sleeplessness were starting to catch up to us and we were in high need of a quick nap before taking on the legendary Galway nightlife.
Back at the hostel, we were introduced to our two roommates for the night - two adorably sweet young Austrian girls who were probably all of 19 years old and one of whom spoke moderate English. We told them to please not be concerned with making noise or having the lights on (considering that we were the oddballs taking a 6pm powernap), but they hardly made a peep as we dosed off into a deep sleep. I guess Austrians are just nice like that. Anyways, we awoke a few hours later, they were gone, and we were finally ready to get our Galway on.
(Tarrah and I in our sweet bunk bed at Snoozles)
After grabbing a quick bite at a place called High Cafe (the only place open past 10pm), we headed to a hopping place called "The Quays" (pronounced "Keys") where we were introduced to an older Irish gentleman who referred to himself as "Brownie" and his friend James who we first believed to be his son, much to Brownie's dismay. After sharing some whiskey shots and good conversation, James offered to take us to another bar for the full "Galway experience" and we headed up the street to a place called "The front door". As we walked in around 1am, I saw about 20 people Brownie's age sipping on wine and conversation in a room about the size of my apartment and was instantly both disappointed in James and furious that he would waste our last precious Galway nightlife hours on a wine bar (we were clearly going to need to abandon our new friends...immediately).
Midway through our commute through the tiny wine bar, James turned around just in time to catch Tarrah and I making skeptical eyebrow raises and yelled over his shoulder, "Trust me, just wait!". As we continued to follow our Irish Sherpa through the tiny room, we started to hear music coming from the corner and as we turned, our frowns turned into giant elated grins. Seemingly small from the outside, every room twisted and turned into another room with each room growing more rowdy the deeper we got and eventually ending in a giant dance party!
(It also doesn't hurt that Irish men are the most flirty men around and Tarrah and I were in high need of some love and attention)
(Tarrah making new friends in hallways)
We danced, we drank, we flirted, and were endlessly twirled around by sweet faced, blue eyed, thick accented Irish men. It was all we could have asked for on our first day abroad and more.
We got back to the hostel around 4am, found our Austrians fast asleep, and crept into bed. The next morning we woke up, tossed our belongings in our bag, bid goodbye to the sweet Austrians, and took off to the Cliffs of Moher.
Our trip had officially begun.
Bunk beds???? Too funny
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