It's been over four months since I got married, so I figure it's about time I write something about the honeymoon.
We chose Ireland because of our Irish roots, and at least in my mind, because it wasn't where everyone else goes on their honeymoon. On advice from an NYC friend who has Irish citizenship, the plan was to fly in to Dublin and drive a rental car along the west coast, then down south, and eventually back to Dublin.
That was the plan, anyway. Let's just say that our honeymoon didn't get off to the best start. Because our flight from Green Bay to Chicago was delayed, we ended up missing our connecting flights, the last of which was to Dublin. So, option 1 was to rough it overnight in the Toronto airport, take an evening flight to Dublin the next day, and lose a day in Ireland. Option 2 involved taking a red eye into London that night and connecting to Belfast earlier the next day, which would be our new final destination. After being assured that Belfast, being in Northern Ireland, was indeed safe these days, we chose the second option because it would keep us on schedule, even though it meant a longer drive to our first hotel in Galway.
At this point, we were already without our checked luggage because we changed our connecting flight to Toronto, which was on a different airline. To make a long story short about my dogged pursuit of our luggage over the telephone with BMI Airlines for the good part of our honeymoon: Erin received her suitcase about four days later, when we were in Ennis.
Shocked and upset that my suitcase was somehow separated from hers, I ended up receiving mine five days later, which was a mere two days before we returned to the states. Moreover, it seemed that the only reason my luggage turned up was because of my initiative. In any case, I've already written a long letter to BMI and received compensation. At the time, I was just glad my belongings weren't lost forever. But if you notice me wearing the same clothing in most of our honeymoon pics, now you know why.
More challenges awaited us after arriving in Belfast: serious jet lag and inexperience with driving on the left side of the road. Suffice it to say that it's a lot harder than it sounds. Driving in the states is just one of those automatic things you do without thinking too much about it. But in Ireland, having your driving orientation reversed affects you more than you'd think (a left turn is a right turn, and vice versa) and makes it difficult to judge your car's position on the passenger (now left) side. Erin was always on edge because she thought I was about to drive off the road. But it wasn't easy! Especially when you throw in narrow streets, poor visibility, a million roundabouts, and the fact that nothing is familiar. It was a challenge, especially when you're ready to pass out and the shining sun makes your eyelids even heavier.
The good news is that by the end of our trip, the accident count held at 0, though there were some close brushes. All I can say, it was a relief to return to normal, "mindless" driving in the states on the right side of the road. The right side is the right side, the right side is the right side, the right side is the right side....
Here are the first of many pints of Guinness we consumed...
Our tense, arduous 3½-hour drive from Belfast finally ended when we reached Galway around 10 p.m. on Monday, August 8th. We checked in and then headed down to the hotel bar for a late dinner. Almost immediately, two girls at the bar struck up a conversation with me. They were excited to meet an American, especially one with the last name Devine. "Devine?! We know Devines!" one exclaimed. (Her name was Linda.) She and her friend Michelle were from Roscommon, a small town about an hour's drive northeast. In a rapid display of Irish hospitality, they urged us to have dinner at their place the following evening. They said they'd even take us to a local bar formerly called "Devine's", which was one of the goals on my trip. But while we didn't discount their kindness, we knew it was the alcohol talking, and figured they'd regret their invitation whenever the buzz wore off. So we politely declined.
That night, Erin and I slept 14 hours, well into Tuesday. When we finally awoke, Erin was hellbent on updating our Facebook statuses to "Married", no matter how stubborn and horribly unresponsive the faulty hotel-room "computers" were.
A few nights later, we enjoyed a fun medieval dinner party at Bunratty Castle, where we met Veronica and Alessandro, a nice Italian couple.
Oh, and check out what I think is a ghostly orb in this picture I took outside the castle, and perhaps my first encounter with the spirit world. At first I thought it might be because of something on the lens, but the picture I snapped right after that had no anomalies in it. So it makes me wonder....
When we returned to our hotel bar in Ennis later that evening, we ran into Rochelle, an Ohio native and fellow Buckeye fan. They're everywhere, I tell ya.
Maybe my favorite part of the trip was our drive through the mountains in Kenmare and Killarney en route to Sheen Falls Lodge. It looked like we were in Hawaii, and it was hard to keep my eyes on the road as we wound our way up the mountainside. This was one of the fewer days where the sun was out. I didn't realize that most of the time in Ireland, it rains.
Our five-star hotel was memorable for a few reasons. Erin loved the rose petals strewn on our bed. We went horseback riding in the pretty Killarney countryside. And on Saturday night, we met the real-life Chatty Man in Irishman Pat Hurley. He and his friends had gathered around the piano and were singing all kinds of popular songs. They started talking to Erin and before we knew it, I was up talking with Pat and his wife till 6:30 in the morning.
I hate to admit it, but while I enjoyed all the Irish food we ate over there, I did cave in for some American staples a few times. The first was when I made a run to McDonald's in Cork. And the second was when we wolfed down a hot, fresh Papa John's pizza on our last night in Dublin.
One of the best stops on our trip was the Guinness Factory. It's big, educational, and fun to tour. Plus you get free beer. But after being in Ireland even just a few days and seeing how ingrained Guinness is in the culture, you have to wonder what kind of identity Ireland would have without it.
My international travel experience is limited, but having been to Europe once before, going to Ireland immediately reminded me how eye-opening it is to see how different countries do things. Here are my observations:
- Every single bar in the country has Guinness on tap. And most bars feature the same array of taps.
- Bed and breakfasts are just as ubiquitous as Guinness.
- Everyone says "cheers" and "thanks a million."
- Irish people don't pronounce their "th"s. So, phonetically, "Thanks a million" becomes "Tanks a million." And "Is that your third drink?" becomes "Is that your turd drink?" It sounds uneducated at first, but endearing thereafter.
- Most streetlights and signs aren't above the street—they're to the side. Not always intuitive or helpful.
- On an Irish keyboard, the @ character trades places with the " character. That threw me a few times.
- "Tires" is spelled "Tyres".
- There is no placing an order "to go" or "for carryout"—in Ireland it's "take away".
- Public bathrooms aren't labeled as "bathrooms"—they're "toilets". Some of the hotel toilets had two buttons that both seemed to flush, but in different ways. It was nowhere near as unconventional as using the three seashells, but it was a little unclear.
- The hotels wisely conserve energy by requiring your keycard to be inserted into a slot to power the lights in your room. Also, there were no clocks in the rooms (kind of like being in a casino).
- Ireland runs mostly on military time, and instead of saying "8:30", they say usually say "half 8", which requires a little translation.
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