Kindess of strangers

This is gonna be another long once since I'm writing it on the bus to my next destination and there's a few hours to kill. I've got lots to say (what else is new?) so I may as well go chronologically.

After publishing my last post, I ended up having a great time in Dublin. Go figure, right? My last night there was by far the best. I ended up in the common room of the hostel in the evening to use my netbook to plan a few things for my trip to the west coast, and there was some rugby on tv. Naturally this drew a few guys into the room, and I was soon getting a crash course in rugby 101. It's great to see that male-bonding via sports isn't only a North American phenomenon! A few of us hit it off, so we decided to make our way to a pub. It was me, a German guy, and an Irish guy who said he had found some pub on the other side of town that had good music. Turns out it was a rock/metal pub. There was a terrible Black Sabbath cover band playing, and I think we were the only 3 people in there without long hair and/or multiple piercings and tattoos. Needless to say it was a blast. We rocked out to the terrible music, wincing every 30 seconds or so when the feedback would whine. Turns out punk rock Irish girls think that straight-laced Canadian boys are fun to try to corrupt. I declined their generous offer to tattoo me (you're welcome mom!). When the pub closed we headed back to the hostel, grabbing some late night chips on the way home. All in all, I had plenty of fun, just when I had given up on Dublin.

The following day I made my way to the west coast by bus and experienced my first semi-big fuck up. There were a couple hiccups along the way on the bus, but nothing that some patience couldn't fix. However, when I got to what I thought was my destination, it turned out that my hostel was another 25 miles away. Being Sunday evening in a small town, there were no more buses running, so I had to take a taxi. I don't like to talk about money much, but the fact is, when you're travelling for as long as I am, you have to keep a close eye on your finances. I've got my budget broken down by month and by day so that I know exactly how much I'm spending vs how much I have left. The taxi ride alone cost more than my entire day's budget. At first I was angry, frustrated and stressed about this, but I eventually calmed down. I know it's not all going to be smooth sailing, so if the worst that happens to me is overspending for transportation, then I'll be laughing. Also, luckily, I had stayed well under my daily budget during my first week in Dublin, so I'll likely end up breaking even for the month anyways. Anyways, I arrived at my hostel finally after about 7 hours on the road and checked in. I went up to my room and saw that there were no bags or unmade beds. I was hoping that nobody else would end up in my room that night so I could sleep without having to hear anybody snore for once. Turns out I didn't have to worry, since I figured out the next day that not only was I the only person staying in my room, I was the only person staying in the whole hostel. I did what any young man who's been on the road for a while would do with all this privacy... I washed my socks and underwear in the bathtub and left them hang drying in the bathroom! Cause I'm gansta like that.

Monday might have been my favourite day yet on my trip. The hostel was in a small town called Miltown Malbay, and is only a mile or two from the ocean. I decided to walk down to the water and see what there was to see. Turns out there was a very nice beach there called Spanish Point. I walked along the beach for a while, but decided that wasn't adventurous enough for me, so I walked along the rocks that were to the right of the beach for as far as I could. I must have walked along them for at least 30 minutes before I had to turn back. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to do since I almost slipped and broke my ankle/neck about a half-dozen times, but I survived. On my way out, I decided to sit and rest and watch the water for a bit. After a few minutes a little old lady who had been walking with her scruffy little dog along the water came up to leave, and the dog came right over to me to be pet. I asked the woman about her dog, and after 5 minutes of conversation, she invited me back to her place for lunch. Her tone wasn't even a “I know I'm being nice” tone, it was just a genuine “are you coming or what” tone. I was floored. So I hopped in her car with her and her dog (turns out it was actually named Scruffy) and we went to her cottage. She was an awesome person, had lots of stories, and was as bit of a globetrotter herself. She'd even been to Ottawa back in 1955. So she made me a big plate of curry and rice, gave me a guiness, and we talked. My favourite moment was when she was asking me about my family. I told her my sister had just become a nun, and this lady who couldn't have been younger than 80 gave a weird look and said “oh my, swearing off sex for your entire life? I could never do that!” I didn't know whether to blush or give her a high five. She offered me a ride back to town after lunch, but I told her I could wait since I knew she had to go into town a little later for a doctor's appointment anyways. I said I'd take a walk to stay out of her way in the meantime, so she gave me directions to this really cool cemetery down the road from her. There were gravestones that were over 150 years old in there...very beautiful with all the Celtic crosses. So she dropped me off in town and I said goodbye and promised to keep in touch (she gave me her business card...she's a painter and author of children's books). So why is having lunch with an old lady so memorable and worthy of a long-ass paragraph you may be asking yourself? I've always thought it's the people you meet who make travelling so special. In 10 years from now, I won't remember what the beach looked like or probably even the name of the town, but I'll definitely remember Jennifer, the sweet, yet slightly dirty-minded grandma who took me in for lunch and told me stories of wartime England.

The following day I went to see the Cliffs of Moher. I booked my hostel because it was only 25 km or so from them, so shouldn't be a big problem getting there, right? Wrong. There's only one bus that leaves Miltown the entire day, and it leaves at 8:30 in the morning. So I made sure to get up early to catch it. It was me and about 50 school kids, since they all take the public bus to the various schools in the area. This bus dropped me off in a town halfway to the cliffs, called Lahynch (sp?). Turns out the only bus to the cliffs leave Lahynch at 11, so I had a couple hours to kill. It was pouring rain so I just ducked into the nearest restaurant to sip a coffee as I read. I eventually caught the bus and went to the cliffs. They were absolutely spectacular. The only problem is your visibility when you're at the cliffs is weather-dependant. When i got there it was still raining and kind of foggy, but still clear enough to see the cliffs and get some decent pictures. Within about 30 minutes though the visibility was reduced to zero and you couldn't see a single cliff. Luckily just before I was leaving, it cleared up and I could see further than ever...turns out there was a whole extra cliff that I couldn't see the first time! I took the bus back to Lahynch, and of course had to wait a couple more hours for the bus to Miltown so I decided to explore the town and take advantage of the sunny weather. I'm really glad I did. Turns out Lahynch is a surfer town, as there's a huge beach with big waves. It was less than 5 minutes from the restaurant I had my coffee at in the morning, and I would have never seen it had it not been for the long wait for the bus, so I guess it was a blessing in disguise. No old ladies or free lunch this time, just a great view and some sun.

Well, I guess I've gone on way too long already. I'm actually heading back to Dublin right now. I wanted to move North along the West Coast, but it's just too difficult since the buses are so sporadic out here. I'll stay in Dublin tonight and then head up to Belfast tomorrow. Thanks for sticking all the way through this post (or scrolling down to see if I posted any pictures). As a reward, here are some pictures of Spanish Point and the cemetery, and the Cliffs of Moher and the Lahynch beach. Til next time!