Home again, home again lickety split. Now let’s see… how to tell you all about my trip to Ireland without writing a novel. I think my writing style is much more suited to a long drawn-out narrative than a short and sweet summary. Look at that: there I go already. OK, I’ll give it a try. Maybe I’ll make two installments to create the illusion of brevity.
The Arrival
Aerlingus offered me the best deal and only charges an extra 20€ to transport a bicycle (which they never bothered to ask for at the airport – sweet!) so off I went. Only two and a half hours later, I was happily back on the ground on the Emerald Isle. But it was already after midnight and Cork City is almost 10km from the airport. I pumped the air back into my tires, mounted my saddle bags, and off into the night I rode through a refreshing light rain to look for Kerry’s Hostel in the city center. I was at the front door by 2am. I arrived at the same time as Warren (South Africa) and Tom (England) – two regulars at the hostel who were returning from a night of debauchery because Tom said, “Warren was kicked out of the pub and was about to be beat up by the bouncer.” I stayed up and talked with Warren in the kitchen until a little after 4am.
Day 1-2: Cork
My first full day in Ireland was spent playing pool, shooting darts, and watching Arsenal play a milestone match in the local sports bar with Warren and Tom. Bars are easy to spot from the street now because, since this past March, smoking is illegal inside of all pubs and restaurants so there are always at least a couple people out on the sidewalk marking the entrance. The plan was to cycle from Cork to Kerry and camp along the way. The reality was that my arrival coincided with that of a severe storm blowing in from the Atlantic. Ireland is known for its rainy weather to begin with, but this was ridiculous. So I left my tent in the hostel, found some serious raingear, wandered Ireland’s 2nd largest city for two days, then hopped on a train westward with my bicycle past the luscious green countryside to Killarney.
Day 3: Killarney
Probably the most touristy city in all of Ireland, Killarney is basically a pit stop on the way to some of the island’s most breath-taking scenery – and that’s exactly what I used it for. It’s not an ugly city, but it’s just full of touristy restaurants and shops with four-leaf clovers and Waterford Crystal. I found an internet cafe to get a much needed dose of cyber-reality and spent a few hours having a lovely political conversation with the other travelers in the room at the hostel: an English girl (very friendly), a German guy (very quiet), a German girl (very nosy), another German girl (very cute), a Dutch girl (very goofy), and a couple Americans (very American). I never learned any of their names.
