CLAIRE O’REILLY
Staff Writer
Welcome back to Galway!
It’s hard to believe that it’s been almost a month since I said goodbye to America. As I find myself growing more comfortable here, I quite often have to pinch myself as a reminder that I’m really here, I’m really in Ireland, and I’m really not coming home until Christmas.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve experienced street performers belting away, the best Guinness stews of my life so far and, of course, a lot of pints of Guinness. Among my recent adventures, traveling to the Aran Islands has been the most amazing so far.
On Sunday, Sept. 11, I woke up at 7:30 a.m. oozing exhaustion. It was the morning of our excursion to the Aran Islands and the plan was to meet our trip leader, Thomas, at 9 a.m. in Eyre Square. I rolled over in bed to turn off my alarm and noticed that I had text messages from friends back in Fredonia detailing their nights out and describing what, at the time, seemed to be everything I was missing out on.
It’s hard leaving a place, and it was hard leaving Fredonia. Thanks to Snapchat, I still see everything that is going on at school and it’s hard to not feel sad or left out. It’s difficult watching a place go on as normal despite your absence.
Basically, on the morning of Sept. 11, I found myself having a slight existential crisis before I had even peeled the covers off or had a cup of tea.
Tired and feeling homesick, I got dressed and headed downstairs to eat something quickly before starting the 15-minute walk into town. Of course, the bagels we had somehow turned moldy overnight, and we were left without breakfast. To make matters worse, nothing in Galway opens on a Sunday until at least 10 a.m.
Needless to say, this day was not off to a fantastic start.
By the grace of God, Megan and I found an open store selling coffee, tea and bakery items right around the corner from Eyre Square. With a to-go cup of tea in hand, I felt the bitterness of the morning wearing off.
To get to the Aran Islands, you first have to take a 45-minute bus ride to a boat and then take a 40-minute boat ride to the Islands. The bus was bumpy, and I felt the tea I had gulped down wanting to come back up. At this point, the thought of getting on a boat when there was a wind advisory was not very settling.
Despite the extremely choppy conditions, the waves splashing over the sides of the boat, and the fact that I was completely soaking wet from head to toe, I have to admit that the ride was beautiful. Sun rays tore through the overcast, shedding a silvery shine over the water and with each deep breath I took, the pure scent of salt mixed with fresh air enveloped my system.
After getting off of the boat, it was time for a bike ride to get to our destination. I expected a leisurely ride with stunning views. I was right about the views. I was so, so wrong about “leisurely ride.” This ride consisted of five miles of uphill biking against the wind.
With my lungs and legs on fire, I had to take a break and get off the bike. While catching my breath, I stopped to look around. I was surrounded by a stretch of beach the greenest green I have ever seen.
Further down the road, still walking, I came across a beautiful black and white-spotted horse. He walked right over to the side of the stone wall barrier between us and bowed his head for me to pet. Growing up loving horses, this moment absolutely took my breath away. He stayed perfectly still and calm while my fingers grazed his mane.
After spending quality time with my new favorite horse, I got back on the bike feeling recharged and ready for more literal uphill battling.
The rest of the way was mostly flat, and I no longer felt as if I needed to call my doctor to discuss the possibility of having asthma. There was this one stretch of path that was so downhill I didn’t even need to peddle. I sped down the hill and looked to my right. I glided easily along the pavement and took in a view of the most indescribable blue-green color of ocean. I felt the sting of tears begin to build behind my eyes. It was one of those times I really needed to pinch myself. It’s hard to believe, but that was not even the most beautiful part of the day.
Once we got to the point where bikes were not allowed anymore, we found ourselves hiking uphill to the top of the cliff. Again, my legs were screaming, “Why are you doing this to me?” but once I made it to the top, any complaints completely slipped from conscious thought. Thick, green grass stretched across the ground until it hit the end of the cliff. I stood at what seemed to be the top of the world. The steel colored ocean seemed to go on for miles and its waves slammed against the rocks.
On the bike ride back, I got a look at that beautiful beach again, and everything seemed to be put into perspective. I started the morning feeling left out, missing Fredonia and ungrateful. Throughout the day, not a single thought of Fredonia or any worry clouded my thoughts, and I realized how lucky I am. I suddenly felt so small and all of my problems seemed so miniscule. I had never felt that much peace of mind before, and I had my first taste of what seeing the world can do.
Sometimes in life, you have these moments, moments when everything is a little more clear and things just make a little bit more sense. It’s been three weeks since I’ve arrived in Ireland, and my days have been jam packed with these moments.
Everyone says that studying abroad opens your eyes and that the experience is life changing. I always believed in that, but I never expected the eye-opening, life-changing stuff to happen so early on in my trip.