County Connemara - the mountains, the ocean, Galway

These guys were tight. They’ve been playing together for twenty years and their song repertoire was pretty impressive. I had an odd encounter when I left this pub. It was raining and I was standing outside waiting for a lull before I headed into the pedestrian walkways in that part of town. A bartender came out for a smoke and we struck up a conversation. She said, “You remind me of Anthony Bourdain.” Just before leaving the hostel that evening, I’d borrowed Anthony Bourdain’s audiobook about travel and food from an online library. I’m certain I didn’t mention it. Just before she said that I was thinking what a perceptive lass she was.

Each city has its own distinctive vibe and Galway’s is energetic. It’s impossible not to feel happy and alive, even if you’re feverish and congested and every muscle is aching and you’re half-wondering if Covid is going to take you down this time around. I mean, my god I’d had a vaccine only a few weeks before and every stinkin’ one that had come available, not without trepidation. How do I know if those weird lingering side effects like numb lips and the sound of water in my ear are from Covid or the vaccines? But whining aside, I might note that I heard my selfsame cough in every closed space: the buses, the stores, the pubs. It’s just that the others had developed a herd immunity. I was an outsider, easy prey.

I liked my hostel, the Woodquay. Great location. A couple blocks from the very center of town where the buses stop. Not far from the train station. Walkable to the west side, the Latin Quarter, the port, Lidl. The common spaces were artsy, comfy, fun. My room was small and every bed occupied. The guy on the bunk above me snored pretty loudly when he was in his REM sleep, and when he pulled the cage with his stuff in it out from under the bed, it shook my bed violently. But that’s hostel life and you have to roll with it. You get what you pay for. Our en-suite toilet was annoying in that it only flushed with a good deal of attention. This was becoming a pattern in Ireland. But I couldn't lift the tank lid on this one. Then the water went out for the night in the entire neighborhood. The hostel was just plain gross as it was packed and the toilets weren’t working at all. I was having flashbacks to the first time I had Covid and the toilet backed up and I was too weak to fix the situation. Still, this wasn’t my responsibility and I could leave. So I did. I explored Galway as far as my legs would take me, which even with Covid, was pretty far and took two day trips. One past Kylemore Abbey and out to Roundstone and Dog’s Head Beaches. 

In the bus. You never know from one minute to the next what it will be like outdoors. Carrying a poncho is mandatory.