This week I continued to tick off challenge number three when I made my way to the Republic of Ireland for some more travelling and exploration. However, before reaching the Emerald Isle I was destined to learn a very expensive lesson in double checking bookings. Upon arriving at Edinburgh airport to catch my flight to Dublin, I was informed that I was not actually on the flight. Convinced that there must be some mistake, it was made known to me that the mistake was in fact mine as I had booked my flight for the following Saturday. Eventually, I was put on a flight for the next morning but not before giving my Visa a good workout. So much for the luck of the Irish.
Fortunately, my inability to read a calendar did not prevent me from joining my five day tour run by Shamrocker Adventures. As we travelled by coach, our tour guide Dave provided us with some lingo that we could use for our time in Ireland, including the multiple contexts for the word 'grand' and the various levels of craic (pronounced crack, meaning fun). Evidently craic ranges from 'good craic' to 'the craic was mighty', all the way to 'the craic was 91', which would describe the best night of your life.
Dave also enlightened us with information about Irish history and culture which is riddled with superstitions and legends. Our first encounter of this was a stop at Blarney Castle where we were given the opportunity to kiss the Blarney Stone, said to give you the gift of the gab. So, aided by a gentleman affectionately known as 'Gropey Graham', I eased my way upside-down, from a great height to kiss a large slab on rock in the pursuit of eloquence. Over the five days I also wished on steps, in wells, rubbed pagan fertility idols and left part of my soul on a beach. Perhaps the strangest superstition of all was visiting the fairy fort; a clearing that surrounds a stump of a 'fairy tree' which is used to get from this world to the next. We were told stories about previous Shamrockers who had disrespected the fairies while in the fort and subsequently had broken down buses and even a broken leg. Some people even claim to have photographed the fairies, as strange blue dots appear in their pictures that even professional photographers could not explain.
Perhaps the best nugget of wisdom that Dave imparted was about the picking up techniques of the locals in a farming town called Killarney. These men are said to be somewhat deprived of female company because many of the women go off to University. So according to Dave, clad in flannelette shirts and cowered in a corner, these men will discuss tactics about how to best approach a group of girls. Once one of the men musters up the confidence to approach a female he will most likely mumble something incomprehensible at her. The female should assume the question was 'How are you?', to which she should answer 'grand!'. He will then continue to mumble something else, which one could assume was 'Where are you from?' having heard a foreign accent. Following this assumption, the lady will answer 'Australia' (or wherever she was from) to which the gentleman will reply, 'Wow...that's really far away'. Having heard all of this, stepping into the pubs in Killarney was like watching National Geographic and then actually visiting the savannah. Everything played out just as Dave said it would and as he so succinctly put it, when it comes to picking up in Killarney, the odds are good but the goods are odd!
When we weren't at the pub we were out enjoying the beautiful scenery that Ireland has to offer. Perhaps the most breathtaking was the Cliffs of Moher which towered over crystal blue oceans and is home to a gathering of puffins. While the cliffs can be quite dangerous on windy days, we were blessed with sunshine and were able to stand right near the edge for some spectacular views. Just as beautiful was Inis Mor, one of the Aran Islands in Galway Bay. On the island we raced bikes through the farmland by the beach to see a seal colony playing in the water. As a group we also hiked to the top of a huge cliff covered with stone walls, where two of our group members got engaged!
On the final night of the tour it was time for a little show and tell. At the beginning of the week Dave set us a challenge to see who could get the most creative souvenir without buying or stealing it. As this blog would suggest, I am a sucker for challenges so I had spent the week accumulating various knickknacks including a drumstick used by the drummer in a Killarney pub band, some rosary beads and an American $1 bill from a bartender in Galway and a bike tire from Inis Mor. I had learnt that only one other person in the group was in competition with me, so after presenting my loot to the group I sat in quiet smugness as the other girl got up to speak. She explained that she had met a man in the street and had asked him for a souvenir. From his pocket he pulled out a pink folded receipt for a cow insemination! As those two hilarious yet haunting words rang in my ears I had no choice but to admit defeat. I still decided to bring all of my souvenirs (except the tire) back to London as a memory the mighty craic that I had in Ireland.
Got the link for your blog off the Shamrocker page - thanks for sharing! I am going on a tour of Ireland in two weeks and am looking forward to it!
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