Field Notes: 5 Weeks in Ireland
I didn’t ease into solo travel or my first destination - Ireland. I landed in Dublin (DUB) around 9am on no sleep and without any of my usual coping mechanisms. Emanating anxiety, I went straight from the airport to a bus, from the bus to Connolly Station, and from there to Belfast Grand Central Station.
I walked into the lobby of Room2 Belfast Hometel around 2pm, smelling horrible and looking even worse, to be greeted by Nathan at the front desk. My room wasn’t ready, so he politely asked what I had planned for my time in Belfast. I mentioned the full-day Giant’s Causeway tour I had booked, but asked for his recommendations. I do this wherever I go, whether I have time for additional activities or not, because locals can give you better information than any Google Search ever will.
Among a few other things like the Titanic Museum, he mentioned a Black Taxi Tour, adding that Americans typically enjoy hearing about the area's contentious politics from the drivers. After I briefly shared my opinion on the current state of U.S. and world politics, he granted me early check-in and a complimentary room upgrade. Maybe it was the stench coming from my armpits or the carry-on-sized bags under my eyes, but I like to think Nathan rewarded me for being a good person.
My keycard let me into a stylish Loft Room with a kitchen, which ended up being one of the greatest surprises of the trip. I unpacked and took a much-needed shower. Although I had no appetite, because of the aforementioned anxiety, I went to UrbanFresh, a locally-owned supermarket just a few steps away. I spent the evening in a staring contest with a bowl of ramen and my phone.
A video I recorded in Chicago (ORD), and posted to TikTok using the horrible Aer Lingus in-flight wifi I paid $15 for, went semi-viral. By the time I got to Belfast, I had 150,000 views, 3,000 new followers, and 1,000 comments.
In the morning, I got up after another sleepless night, not because the bed wasn’t comfortable or because the TikTok comments were too mean, but because I typically fall asleep to the sweet sensation of weed gummies in my tummy. And, the cherry on top of my i-want-to-scream sundae, my period and her painful cramps checked-in downstairs. I seriously debated skipping the 9-hour Giant’s Causeway tour with McComb’s Coach Travel.
But maybe I was more afraid of sitting alone in my hotel room than I was of wasting $47. So I got my butt out of bed and into the nearest Starbucks for something familiar, breaking my years-long boycott. The taste of my iced latte was recognizable, but my breakfast sandwich was not nearly as processed as I needed it to be. I took one bite and put the rest in my backpack. It rode with me to our first stop, Carrickfergus Castle, where I tossed in the trash.
My seat mate was another twenty-something solo female traveler from Krakow, Poland. Our driver was Patrick, who had to have the “gift of the gab” and the “luck of the Irish” to be driving down the narrow country roads and talking a mile a minute. If my anxiety wasn’t bad enough already, I spent the whole ride imagining a dramatic coach bus crash. Unsurprisingly, as promised by the thousands of five-star reviews on Viator, we made it back safely.
At our second stop, Carnlough Harbor, I promptly found the nearest pharmacy before taking any photographs. Near tears, I told the pharmacist about my problems and she listened. I stocked up on daytime anti-anxiety tablets, extra-strength sleep aid pills, a daily multivitamin, and feminine hygiene products. All of that for only 10 minutes and $20.
We got back on the bus and continued to our next stop, Portaneevy ViewPoint for Carrick-a-Rede Ropebridge, where I estimate our tour group collectively took over a hundred photos. My mom got to walk across this bridge during her tour of Northern Ireland in 2018, but since the COVID-19 pandemic, it has been closed to large coach bus tour groups. Instead, we went to lunch.
Most of the group pre-ordered their meal from The Fullerton Arms with Patrick on the bus. Being relatively crowd-averse, especially in tiny Irish dining establishments, I went across the street to Carrick-a-Rede Bar & Restaurant, where my seat mate joined me in sitting outside. I had water and a panini; she had a Guinness and cigarettes. At that moment, I thought I might be treating my stress and anxiety all wrong.
Our next stop, Giant’s Causeway, a World Heritage Site with around 40,000 interlocking basalt columns of cooled molten lava, was the highlight of the tour. With the two hours allotted, I followed Patrick’s advice up the Red Trail along the cliff's edge, then down the Shepherd's Steps on the Blue Trail to the formations, and back to the visitors center. I even had enough time to pop into the Causeway Hotel gift shop before getting back on the bus.
Our last few stops were short and sweet. First, Bushmills Distillery. Then, Dunluce Castle. And finally, The Dark Hedges. I’m not a superfan of whiskey or Game of Thrones, but I took the photos anyway. Not every stop will be everyone’s favorite, but I would recommend this tour without hesitation. My advice? Get to the bus early, sit as close to the front as possible, and pick a window seat on the right side.
That evening, I learned I couldn’t take a sleep aid pill after the anti-anxiety tablets, so I suffered through another restless night. The next morning, I ate as much complimentary breakfast as I could before catching a train back to Dublin. From Connolly Station, I walked to Clink i Lár Hostel, where I had reserved a bed in an all-girls dorm. I hadn’t stayed in a hostel since 2018, and never in a girls-only room, so I was really excited to meet and socialize with other solo female travelers.
Again I arrived about an hour before check-in officially started, and in stark contrast to the hospitality I found in Belfast, nothing in this hostel was free. Early check-in, towels, toiletries, breakfast, and tours were all offered for an additional fee. Even the portable phone chargers available in the lobby were rented out by the hour. I sat upstairs until exactly 3pm, eating some train station snacks.
I made the mistake of waiting a minute too long to go back downstairs. There were dozens of people and twice as many backpacks in the lobby crowding the check-in kiosks. I channeled a patience I didn’t know I had and 30 minutes later, thanks in part to their painfully slow elevators, I was in my room on the 9th floor. I was rewarded yet again, this time with a bottom bunk.
I ventured out across Ha’Penny Bridge and over to Temple Bar, where I had some pizza at Pi across from The Temple Bar. I had no interest in seeing the Guinness Storehouse (I don’t drink beer) or the Book of Kells (overpriced, if you ask me). Ireland has tried to tell me, over and over again, that not every “must-see” needs to be my must-see. I’ll be flying from Dublin (DUB) to Edinburg (EDI) at the end of the month, and plan on visiting the Emigration Museum and The Portal. And with that in mind, I went back to the hostel for a disappointingly silent night in my hostel room. My roommates didn’t speak to me, I didn’t speak to them, and they didn’t speak to each other.
After a couple hours of sleep, I packed up again and walked back to the train station. I might be more familiar with Connolly Station than I am with Dublin City Centre at this point. Nonetheless, I boarded the train to Ceannt Station. Across the street, on the corner of Eyre Square, is Galway City Hostel, where I had reserved a bed in a mixed dorm. I walked in, again around 2 pm, just as the housekeepers were finishing my room. Thankfully, the friendly staff let me check in early and said I could pick any bed. They also told me about their free breakfast, “Tea & Treats” in the afternoon, and group dinner in the evenings. This was the hospitality I was looking for in Dublin.
Before my sad excuse for another night’s sleep, I got dressed in my nicest outfit and walked through Eyre Square to The Sweater Shop, a family-owned business specializing in Aran knitwear. I purchased a colorful pair of wool socks and a knitted sheep keychain, both made in Ireland. With a gift bag in hand, I went next door to another family-owned business, a vegetarian restaurant called Food 4 Thought. After a delicious panini and side salad, I strolled back to the hostel. On the way, I made sure to stop and listen to some local kids busking in the street.
I settled into a bottom bunk in my room on the first floor, located just across from reception and the kitchen. This was convenient, as there was no elevator, however, the noise from the crosswalk signal outside followed by the live music from Darcy’s Bar downstairs kept me up. If that wasn’t enough, a man checked into my room around 2am. I kept my curtains closed and he kept to himself.
In the morning, I found myself in a familiar situation: feeling tired but awake and hungry but nauseous. Yet again, I seriously debated skipping the full-day Cliffs of Moher tour I had booked with Galway Tour Company. But this tour cost $94 and I couldn’t bear to waste it. I sipped on a glass of orange juice and slapped raspberry jam on a piece of Irish soda bread before leaving to locate my tour bus.
I showed up early, sat as close to the front of the bus as possible, and chose a window seat on the right side. Our driver, Anthony, left right on time and took us down the Wild Atlantic Way towards Doolin. We boarded the Doolin Ferry to Inis Oírr (Inisheer), one of the Aran Islands. I made sure to bring Dramamine, but thankfully, I didn’t have to use it. This was my first ever ferry ride and I felt that I’d been rewarded once more, this time with perfect weather.
After a much needed latte from Cafe Úna, I rented a bike from Joyce’s Bike Hire in the hopes of cycling to a seal colony. Unfortunately, I didn’t see any seals. So I cycled back to the other side of the island to see the remains of a 1960 shipwreck washed ashore. This is the only way I want to see a shipwreck. If I have any phobias, it’s thalassophobia. I haven’t always been anxious, but diving into the Atlantic Ocean, or any deep body of water for that matter, is something I’ve never been particularly interested in.
We boarded the ferry back to Doolin for lunch at McGann’s Pub. On the way, we enjoyed a short, narrated tour of the Cliffs of Moher from the water. It’s easy to see why this 8-mile stretch of coastline with a 700-foot drop into the Atlantic is preserved as a UNESCO Global Geopark. After lunch, Anthony drove us up to explore the Cliffs from above for about an hour. Experiences like this give a person perspective and that, in my opinion, is priceless.
It was already dark outside by the time we pulled back into Galway. I was actually hungry for the first time since I left home. In an act of desperation, I ordered my usual from a kiosk at the closest McDonald’s and it was exactly as processed as I needed it to be. When I returned to my room, the man from the night before had already checked out and no one else had checked in! This would be my last night alone for quite some time and so I cherished it.
I woke up with a nervous excitement to take another ferry, this time from Rossaveal, back to the Aran Islands, this time to Inis Mór (Inishmore). The Aran Islands are a group of three rocky, Irish-speaking islands off the West Coast. Ferries come and go between 8am and 7pm. These arrivals and departures, as well as the weather that affects them, are a part of daily life. Tourism has largely replaced fishing and agriculture as the primary income source for the roughly 1,200 residents. The islands receive between 270,000 to 300,000 visitors annually.
A few weeks prior, I arranged to be a volunteer housekeeper through Worldpackers at Kilronan Hostel in exchange for free accommodation, food, bike rentals, and laundry. After about two hours of cleaning six days per week, the rest of my days would be free. This sounded like the perfect way to spend five weeks working remotely to build my book of business as a travel advisor. Little did I know, it would make me want to leave the grind behind forever.
I’ve made friends with fellow volunteer housekeepers from Argentina, France, and Brazil. I’ve been reading more books, practicing watercolor painting, learning to speak a little Irish, and working on my photo and videography. I biked across the island to Kilmurvey Beach, stood at the edge of the Wormhole, and climbed up to Dun Aonghasa. I’ve seen cows, horses, sheep, even seals along the shore. I've ordered the buster burger at The Bar, the vegetable soup at Teach Nan Phaidi, and the €12 box from Man of Aran Fudge. I’ve even experienced the locals breaking out into song at Ti Joe Mac. I would stay here if I could, but I'll be off to Scotland soon for another volunteer housekeeping exchange.
This article isn’t a checklist or a guide. It’s just personal moments stitched together by trains, tours, and hostels. If you’ll learn anything from me it’ll be to follow instinct over itinerary. And sometimes, the best decision you make is the one that makes you the most anxious, like flying away from your hometown and immediately leaving the city you land in.
