Three Schools, Three Churches, & Seven Pubs

Last Sunday, Lindsay, my roommate Shannah, our friend Jitka, and I took a day trip to the Aran Islands off the coast of Galway. Chalked up to be another must-see destination in Ireland, the Arans are a group of three islands located a forty-minute ferry ride away from the Connemara coast. They are well-known for being an idyllic representation of traditional Irish culture. The three islands that comprise the Arans are Inishmore, Inishmaan, and Inisheer. We visited Inishmore, the largest and most populated of the three. We boarded a bus in the city center at around 9:30 in the morning and made the hour trip to the ferry dock, which was surprisingly crowded even though it is hardly tourist season. After a forty-minute ride, we stepped onto Inishmore where there were many tour guides anxiously awaiting customers for the day. Basically, the options for exploring the island are either to take a taxi tour or to rent a bike and ride it around; the island is nearly 8 miles in total terrain so it would be difficult to cover all of that in a few hours. The weather wasn't exactly peachy so we opted to take a taxi tour with an elderly gentleman, Tomas O'Toole, who had been born and bred on the island. He took us and four other visitors around to all the "hot spots" that the island had to offer - they're weren't that many.
Inishmore has 750 residents, most of whom do not live their year round. In fact, most of the villages we drove through had more houses than people because most residents live on the island for just the summers. The homes were traditionally Irish, with thatched roofs and lots of land to do farming and raise livestock. Tomas explained to us that the island was so sparsely populated that everyone knew everyone else and their business, so you could not get away with any "hanky panky" if you tried. There is one bank that is open one day a week, one grocery store, three schools, three churches, and, most importantly, seven pubs. Tomas joked that you could say that there are really ten churches because you will find most residents getting in touch with their spirits every afternoon at their favorite pub.
As we drove around, I noticed that the landscape was beautiful in a way that is different from the beauty of the mainland. It was more rugged and unkempt, with narrow dirt roads and gorgeous ocean views in every direction. 

Seals on the coast

Hanging with some cows

The "highway"

We stopped for an hour at the islands main attraction, Dun Aengus, an Iron Age fort that sits atop cliffs overlooking the Atlantic. It only costs a Euro to climb up the jagged hill and see the sights, so we paid and made the ascent up. The cliffs were beautiful and much less touristy than the Cliffs of Moher, although those are still my favorite. It was a bit scary that there were no boundaries between us and the edge, but it also made me appreciate being able to see such a wonderful hidden gem. 

After Dun Aengus, we continued driving around the island through the small villages where Tomas was able to tell us something about the resident of every home or, if their weren't any residents, he told us something significant about the house itself. We stopped at one of the two cemeteries on the island that featured the remains of an ancient monastery as well as the traditional high crosses found in Irish burial grounds. Tomas' wife was buried in the cemetery and he told us that he would join her there eventually. He told us a lot about his family; each of his five children had moved off the island in pursuit of education and careers, moving to the mainland and the United States. He has grandchildren he sees when they visit the island, but he himself has no intentions of leaving. I felt sad and intrigued at the same time, he lives on the island as a widowed man doing the same predictable thing over and over, but he still seemed to be very happy with himself. Tomas was so proud of where he came from, not at all concerned with the conveniences and opportunities that life elsewhere could have offered him. I just thought he was so admirable. I think it's that Irish pride that runs deep on the Arans that I keep learning about.

When our drive around the island came to an end, Tomas dropped us off near the center of "town" close to the ferry dock. We grabbed lunch at the only place open, a little hole in the wall that was ironically called the American Bar. After lunch, we putzed around in some of the local shops, including the Aran Wool Market where the famous Irish sweaters are spun. We shopped around until it was time to head back to the ferry, exhausted and ready for a nap after another day of exploring.

Love and Irish pride,

Haley