Continuation of the experiment: Destination Exercise
Galway, Ireland
For many visiting this quaint seaside town the first place to experience is Eyre Square, the gateway to The City of Tribes. This is modern Ireland. A large green, contemporary sculptures, and a pay-to-go toilet box. This picture may not be what these newly arrived explorers were expecting. Where are the cobbled roads? Where are the thatched roofs? But like many cities of this old country the past is not so far away. It only requires your feet and curiosity to get you there.
Jutting off one corner and the Irish adventurer is exactly in the place he imagined. There are people walking casually through the streets, trying to decide which chip shop to have lunch in. A truly daunting task given that it's not far to the place where the fish itself was even caught. There are brightly colored facades lining both sides of the lane with everything from jewelry to instruments, art to literature. The lucky trekkers will find the sweet shop that makes tarts bigger than your hand. Oh those are the lucky ones indeed.
Surprisingly often the day is sunny. At least it's not raining. Full sun may be wishful thinking. The Irish have mastered the art of persevering despite less than idyllic weather and so it's easy to take their cue. But who needs sun when there are street performers, a fiddler and a flute, bobbing their heads to the tune they make? Next to the statue of Oscar Wilde and Eduard Vilde is a young man and an easel. He is capturing the image of the street before him in beautiful acrylic. Between the music and the painter who can blame Wilde and Vilde for selecting such choice seats? Pull up a chair in the cafe nearby and the explorer can share that same vision that they see.
The best of all days are market days. Peek over the authors' shoulders and the astute observer sees, tucked between two rows of buildings, canopies. This is when adventurers leave Shop Street. And yes, that is what it is actually called. No reason to beat around the bush when it comes to giving names to things here. Now they come down Church Street which is equally aptly named. On another day this is probably nothing more than a nondescript ally running behind the Church of St. Nicholas. On market days, however, it is filled with people, looking at shiny, pretty things and drinking freshly steeped cider. There are fresh flowers and fish sitting in ice staring up at the passing crowd. Any foodie or lover of local things would think they'd just stepped into the holy land. What could be richer than this?
All of a sudden, without much realization of how it happened, the Claddagh Quay fills the view. Anyone who has ever opened a guidebook or picked up a calendar of Ireland would recognize it. It's Galway Harbor, the place where the River Corrib empties to the vast North Atlantic. And it is one of the most spectacular things one will ever see. Take a quiet moment and walk along the shoreline and out to the lighthouse. Smell the salt. Listen to the waves and feel the biting wind whip your hair in circles. It's possible to sit here for ages, looking across the vastness and getting lost in thought. For some reason, sitting there, the curtain to the past seems very thin. Perhaps it is because this is Gaeltacht, a region where the Irish language can be easily heard and is understood by many. Maybe it's the call of Tafee's Pub with its trad band pounding out the songs that never die. Songs of sailors that left this place and never returned. The one who truly allows himself will feel more alive, more connected to their roots, and even more prepared to see what else this ancient country has to offer.
