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The Cliffs of Moher

Published on by angelinapacosaLeave a comment
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I took my first official trip in Ireland on Sunday, September 8th!

My friends and I were trying to figure out where we could go for a day trip, since classes were starting that Monday. We eventually decided on the Cliffs of Moher- a very “stereotypical,” “touristy destination,” but if you have the chance to go, do not skip it. This is without a doubt a bucket-list place.

The Cliffs are located on the western coast of Ireland in County Clare, approximately two and a half hours from Cork. So it’s a bit of a drive. We ended up booking a bus tour through a local company (they run tours for a lot of popular tourist destinations in Ireland) which included transportation both ways, our tickets and access to the Cliffs, a stop for lunch, and a brief visit to Bunratty Castle.

My friends and I were up bright and early Sunday morning (6 AM, unfortunately), and were on our way to the bus stop by 7 AM, since the “meet-up spot” was about 20 minutes away. We left on our bus around 7:45 AM and got to drive through a part of Cork that I hadn’t seen before. (The city is a lot bigger than I realized, so I’m still getting my bearings). I thought I would sleep for the two and a half hours to the Cliffs, but my eyes were glued out the window. The Irish countryside is so beautiful- everything is so impossibly vibrant and green, even underneath the perennially-cloudy sky. It looks exactly how I pictured it in my mind: rolling green hills, herds of cattle, soft grass.

We eventually picked up more passengers in Limerick, another fairly large city. From there, it was about an hour to the Cliffs. It was such a beautiful day: it was cooler, there was a slight breeze, and the sun came out from behind the clouds from time to time. We were given our tickets once we arrived at the Cliffs (which no one ended up checking), and were given about two hours to explore before we needed to leave for our next stop. (The two hour limit is a way for the site, and the country as a whole, to limit the amount of pollution given off by the buses, so it is in effect for every one).

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It was quite a hike to get up to see the actual Cliffs, since the main portion of the attraction is up a very long, very steep, hill. The trek was worth it, though. Looking out over the wall for the first time took my breath away- the view was indescribably beautiful. The day was clear so I could see for miles out across the water, and all of the intricate faces in the rocks of the Cliffs. Even the surrounding landscape was worthy of looking at- there are so many different types of plants and flowers (some of which are only native to Ireland), and animals.

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(I believe that this is a Scottish thistle, though it wasn’t in full bloom).

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(And the yellow flowers are most likely birds-foot-trefoil. The plant on the right might be yarrow, but it wasn’t in bloom either).

County Clare is a rural area- mostly farmland- so naturally, there was something to see on that front:

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And there was a bit of history involved, too. On the site is O’Brien’s Tower, which was built in 1835 and was constructed to offer a higher observation point for tourists. The view from the top is definitely impressive:

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Two hours initially felt like more than enough time to see the Cliffs from every possible angle, but towards the end of our tour we hadn’t had enough. The atmosphere was incredible. There were even live musicians- a fiddler and an accordionist- who were playing traditional Irish music to enhance the experience even further.

The Cliffs of Moher are a breathtaking sight, truly an astounding feat of nature, and I’m running out of adjectives to use to describe such an incredible place. Maybe the Cliffs are meant to be indescribable, because their existence is a bit unfathomable. For there to be such a place in the world- such a beautiful and awe-striking wonder… it is truly surreal to think about- even more so to actually see it.

I was definitely reluctant to go, but I left with a few postcards and about fifty more photos on my camera roll. It’s safe to say that I won’t be forgetting this experience any time soon.

After we left the Cliffs, we stopped for lunch in town nearby and then continued on to Bunratty Castle (which was built in the 15th century, and seems to be one of the most well-preserved castles in Ireland). We were only given about an hour to check out the grounds- which wasn’t nearly enough time to get inside and take a tour- so we settled for poking around in the gift shops. We got back to Cork about 6 PM.

It was a long day, but it was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. This is a formal suggestion: if you ever happen to be in Ireland, please check out the Cliffs of Moher. I’m so glad that this place was my first official introduction to the country because I think the Cliffs really embody what Ireland is: an impossibly beautiful place that has endured the test of time.

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The Familiarity of a Stranger

Published on by gwenmorgan323Leave a comment

I grew up in a big family. Christmas was a big deal. Easter was a big deal. Thanksgiving was a big deal. Birthdays, dinners, lunches, brunches, everything was a big deal with lots of people with lots of opinions and lots of noise. I’ve always been surrounded by people. Growing up, I frequently went to sleep-away camp and was left in a cabin with five to seven other girls at a time. College was no different. I was sleeping with roommates in buildings full of people, full of noise, full of community.

For someone like me, loneliness is an unfamiliar emotion.

Five days ago, I began my journey from San Antonio, Texas to Bilbao, Spain. Upon boarding my second flight (a connection from Atlanta to Madrid), I met a lovely 40-something-year-old lady. She was kind, allowing me to stand in front of her in line. Upon chatting, we soon realized we were in seats right next to each other, and I was instantly grateful.

I had felt nothing but bliss up until that point in my seventeen-hour travel day. Boarding my first flight out of Texas I felt excited; excited for the possibilities that were to come from being abroad. I’ve been traveling my whole life, most recently on my own for the first couple of times to and from Denver. The only international trip without my parents was with close friends, which made it easy to navigate and ease any nerves that may have bubbled up from being away from a familiar space.

It is when I sat in the Atlanta airport that I began to feel it.

The idea of an eight-hour flight, left to my own devices, seemed unappealing in a way I can only describe to be apathy. I felt anxious; was I missing something important like a charger? Toothpaste? AirPods? I felt guilty; Did I spend enough time with my family this summer? With my friends? With my pets? I felt intense unease; would I really be able to do this for three months on my own? Would my host family be nice? Would I be able to adjust?

My mind was a cloud of gray, my nails busy picking at my skin as a way to release the nervous tension I could feel bubbling up in the pit of my stomach.

All of that melted away as I followed closely behind Patricía into the narrow isle of seats lining the plane.

We began to talk, the entire conversation in Spanish. With Spanish as my second language, I was automatically grateful to have someone who allowed me to practice during the lengthy flight. Patricía was flying from Atlanta to Madrid and had been for the past couple of months due to her father’s continuous sick spells. Despite this, she maintained the most lovely and positive demeanor I’ve encountered in a while. She told me all about Madrid, Bilbao and other parts of Spain. How the culture was, as reflected in her own eyes, what the people were like, what the food entailed. Her Spanish accent made it difficult to understand certain words at times, along with the noise from the plane, but I found that we were able to communicate at times simply through hand gestures. I offered her some of my snacks, she offered me her eye-mask when it was time to sleep on the plane. We shared commentary, jokes, and even part of my Snoopy blanket throughout the flight, and it felt like I was back home with my tía, her personality comforting and familiar.

When it came close to being time to land, we exchanged contact information, took a selfie together, and said our goodbyes. I was rushing to make my connection, she knew I was anxious, making sure to direct me to the right place, giving me tips on how to navigate the massive airport.

Loneliness is a strange emotion, one easily felt even amid an airport bustling with thousands of people. We all as humans crave connection, it’s natural. We want to be around someone familiar, someone who feels safe. I am forever grateful for having met Patricía, to have had almost a little reminder of home with me on such a long flight was all I could have asked for. It just goes to show that you should be kind to every stranger you meet; you never know how big of an impact it could have on their life. I don’t know if Patricía realized how much of a comfort she was for me on just an eight-hour flight. Perhaps I’ll tell her over a cup of coffee when I get around to hopefully visiting her in Madrid!