A Wild Ride on the Happy Hooker

Today was the day when nothing seemed to go right.  First, poor Josh woke up in the middle of the night with apparent food poisoning, although we had shared every dish and I emerged unscathed.  Next, when we did a final email check before leaving for the day, we found out that the ferry company with whom we had booked a trip had decided not to start running ferries until next week, despite allowing us to make a reservation the night before.  As a result, we relaxed a bit before finally leaving for the Cliffs of Moher... only to arrive and find that all of the power to the surrounding region had been cut.  The one car park for several miles either direction could not let people out, and therefore they also would not let us in.  We were advised to visit a surrounding town or park in one of the towns and walk an hour and a half back to see the cliffs.  We proceeded on to Doolin, the next town over, to explore a bit.  (Note: We later found out that the power couldn’t be restored in a timely fashion, so they had to saw through the railing arm to let people out of the car park.)

Once in Doolin, a tiny town on the west coast of Ireland, we wound around admiring the beautiful coastline

 and found ourselves at the pier.  Our ferry – the one that was cancelled – had been scheduled to leave from Doolin, so we were surprised to find that another company was still running rides.  We hastily booked a trip leaving in 10 minutes and climbed aboard our ship, which was ridiculously named The Happy Hooker.  

The day was a bit overcast but otherwise warm and our boat was packed with excited American tourists.  Excited yelps filled the air as our boat began to pitch on the waves, with the craft rolling over 20 degrees in either direction.  Over the course of an hour, we made our way out to the first of the three Aran Islands, where we disembarked.  

The tiny island had a cluster of houses near the dock, ruins standing tall and regal on the hilltop, and stone walls everywhere.  The stone walls were a mystery.  

They were maybe 3 feet tall and were arranged illogically all over the island.  Every plot marked out was a different size, but usually no more than 15x20 feet.  There were no entrances to most of these plots, no breaks in the walls.  And there were no houses on over 80% of these plots.  The walls simply made an abstract checkerboard out of the island.  Puzzling over this, Josh and I wandered around the island, admiring the coastline views and the old ruins.  We tried to see sea lions, but apparently they agreed with the locals that March was no time to live on the island.  Houses, beaches, and everything else stood empty.  It seemed as though the half dozen tourists were nearly the only people on the island.  I can’t imagine how isolated this place must feel during the depths of winter and how it must have been a couple of hundred years ago.  On a cuter note, when we returned to the dock to catch our ferry back, we met another couple our age who had been followed around the entire island by a very cute, very friendly dog.  It was unclear if it was a stray or belonged to someone on the island (they let their dogs just roam), but it apparently toured the island with the couple.

Josh on his island throne.

Our ride back to the mainland was a bit less pleasant than the ride out.  It began to drizzle, so we went inside the ship to chat more with the other American couple.  Being in the center of the ship was a mistake – the lack of fresh air and the increasingly choppy water left Josh and I both terribly seasick.  As a result, we skipped the Cliffs of Moher cruise immediately afterward and instead waddled, a bit green, back to our car.  The roads to Galway were similarly unforgiving – one was called Corkscrew Way – and so we were both a bit relieved to reach our hotel and lie down.

Luckily, we fully recovered by dinner, when we met up with Josh’s coworker and his girlfriend.  We headed to The King’s Head, the oldest pub in Ireland, for dinner and hours of good conversation.  In fact, there was so much good conversation that after dinner we wandered the city and then continued the evening at a local pub.  Nearly five hours after we met up, we finally parted ways for bed.  Galway is that type of place, though – a place to linger and laugh.

Spotted: Josh has a techno remix of Phantom of the Opera on his phone that he unabashedly loves.  I might have to marry him if I ever stop laughing.