Day 4: Foggy with a chance of Whiskey

One of Robert Frost's most famous poems was about taking the 'road less traveled'.. writing that turning on a path that one may not know could be the right one. This was definitely what was in store for us on this day in County Galway.

We began day 4 cramped in a tiny bed and breakfast just down the road from the city center. We were up after an early end to the evening before, but opened the windows to the pattering of typical Irish rain on the pavement beneath. Yes, it was to be yet another wet day - but no surprise to us or the locals.

During a traditional Irish breakfast (rashers, sausage and sunny side egg), we debated what to do in spite of the nasty rain.. We were looking for an adventure.. something that no one else would do and that would be memorable. Our trip was really about creating lasting memories that we would talk ten years from now...

We decided to take a drive to the Connemara and hike one of the mountains there. We were in dire need of some good exercise and adventure. The drive would be about one hours drive from Galway. The destination according to the guide book was one of those things you 'have to see' in Ireland. So we were off and planned to return in the evening to participate in yet another night out in Galway city.

As soon as we left the hotel, bands of rain from the cold Atlantic blanketed our car. The fog had rolled in, making visibility bearable for the driving, but absolutely awful for taking in the scenery. We saw the outline of rolling hills, bogs, and mountains... but that was it, an outline. The sense of extreme disappointment entered the car knowing that we were missing the most incredible, breathtaking views in Ireland. It was starting to be a disappointing trip and awful decision to go.

The rain was so hard we decided that hiking was not going to be in the agenda for the day, so we kept journeying down the country road and then made a left on an even more desolate stretch. We were headed to the coast to buy a pint and contemplate. We arrived in a quaint harbor town called Roundstone, greeted by the famous Galway Hookers - sailboats with black hulls and sails the color of red wine. These fishing boats were designed to weather the powerful ocean, and this day was absolutely no exception.

Nelson parked the car (he is now an expert left-side of the road driver)  and we stopped in the nearest pub. It was old, traditionally Irish, and full of people who probably had the same idea as we did - to retreat inside to enjoy a pint.

The highlight of the menu was the oysters and Nelson ordered a plate of them (of course I did not partake). They were caught recently right near the restaurant - and the report was they were fresh and delicious, especially with a pint of IPA.

It was a cool lunch because we were so far off the beaten path.. we talked it up with the locals and took in the rain and obscured view of the sea. Our Irish luck was starting to change.

When we exited the restaurant, the fog had lifted a bit and the rain subsided to a mere drizzle. The visibility was getting much better, so we continued along the coastal road to see beaches, bogs, mountains, and lots of Irish sheep. We arrived in Clifton to a bustling town full of shops and tourist traps. Really nothing to see.

It was about 3:30 and ready to return to Galway. We heard about this spooky but enchanting country road called the 'bog road' that cut through the swampland and hills of the coastal plain.  We decided to try to make an adventure out of it and continued along the country road until making a sharp left onto this obscure path. A hazy mist glazed over the mossy grass.. and the local livestock grazed along the way. Of course, Nelson thought at this point that the road was perfect to learn how to drive stick. Embarrassingly enough, I had no clue how to drive a manual transmission, but despite the hills, sharp turns, bikers, sheep, and oncoming cars on literally a one-lane road, it was time to learn. I will spare you the details but there were a lot of stalls, floods, and near misses of the rocks on the side of the road - but I eventually got the hang of it and drove for about 20 minutes... I felt a huge sense of accomplishment and happy that I learned something new that would be helpful in the future. 

We arrived back in Galway to begin the evening festivities. We had a good tapas dinner followed by a walk down the coast to a smaller town called Salt Hill, a less touristy and more local part of Galway. We were excited because its nice to be a part of the local scene. We stopped in a bar called Oslo - a microbrewery to sample a few of the local brews and whiskeys and shared a drink with the bartender who returned the favor by giving us some advice on the Monday evening scene.

We followed his advice and our next stop was a packed 'Riosin Dubh' where we met more locals, including a New Zealander who has been here for 10 years and a few others.. Galway is a college town - about 25% of the population are students - so the scene was lively, evening in the wee hours of the morning. Surprisingly, the average age was older though, a nice change compared to some of the bars in Mexico. The party went on pretty late and stumbled home knowing it was another memorable day in the books.