MacsTravel Blog

“Well, I took a stroll on the old long walk
Of a day-ya-ay-ya-ay
I met a little girl and we stopped to talk
On a fine soft day-ya-ay

And I ask you, friend, what’s a fella to do?
‘Cause her hair’s black and her eyes are blue
And I knew right then, I’d be takin’ a whirl
‘Round the Salthill Prom with a Galway girl”

-“Galway Girl”, Steve Earle

We kicked off our three week visit to Ireland with four nights in Galway. It’s a small, walkable city dripping with charm and character, and proved to be a great spot to ease into our trip.

We landed in Dublin early Monday morning and caught a city-link bus direct to Galway. It’s a lovely drive through a countryside of stone wall lined fields dotted with sheep, cows and a few suitably picturesque ruins. Other than the lovely scenery, you are immediately struck by the predominance of Gaelic (or Irish, as it’s logically known as in Ireland) on the street signs and buildings. We were heading west, where the roots of the Irish language are the deepest.

Sli na Mara

A few hours later we found ourselves at the door of our B&B in Claddagh, an historic neighborhood between the Galway city centre and Salthill.

At Sli na Mara (Irish for “Way of the sea”) we were greeted by our hostess Bridie, the personification of Irish charm and hospitality. She ushered us across the threshold and up two flights of stairs to our bed and bath, all the while expressing amazement at our superhuman efforts to walk the incredible distance of two kilometres from the bus stop with luggage, a feat that, surely, had never been attempted. After a rapid tour around the room she presented us with the breakfast menu, asking that we submit our choices each evening for the next morning, although, she pointed out, it would be a shame if we didn’t choose the Irish breakfast. Bridie offered an assortment of suggestions on what we might do our first evening in Galway, ultimately landing on the suggestion that we should venture up the Salthill Prom, it being such a lovely afternoon, perhaps after a short nap to recover from our journey. It was a one way conversation, and we dutifully took her advice on both our breakfast choices and our evening plans.

Salthill

Bridie was right. It was a lovely day and we were less than a five minute walk from the shores of Galway Bay and a coastal path that wound west to the Salthill Prom itself, made famous in Steve Earle’s song Galway Girl.

We emerged at Grattan Beach and found ourselves facing the Famine Ships Memorial, a somber reminder of the impact the Irish Potato Famine (1845-1852) had on Ireland in general and the more rural and impoverished west coast in particular.

The Salthill Prom is a lively walk along a typically busy seaside tourist area. On the water side, hundreds of burnt Irish sunbathers and swimmers daring the very chilly waters of the Atlantic. On the other, pubs, ice cream shops, Ferris wheels and roller coasters. We had a good walk to the end of the Prom, taking a seat by the famous Blackrock diving platform where we spent some time taking in the scene as dozens of red-haired Irish children put on a more than passable imitation of arctic lemmings.

We set off in search of fish and chips for dinner. We settled on The Galleon restaurant when our first pick, O’Riley’s, turned out to have a suspended liquor license, which we presume is a death sentence in the Irish hospitality industry.

Both dinner and our beverages of choice worked out well. Having successfully made it to 8 pm we made our way back to our B&B and crashed, anticipating a busy day two.

Breakfast(s)

We had the great pleasure of Bridie breakfasts each day during our stay in Galway. We arrived at our chosen 8:30 am slot the first morning to find our table already set for us. Bridie swiftly arrived table side, inquiring about our evening, how well we had slept and directing us to the side buffet laden with yoghurt, granola, various seeds and dried fruit, cheese and bread, which she hoped might sustain us until the Irish breakfast arrived. In a matter of a moment she was back with pots of tea and coffee, as well as a basket of toast to ward off collapse from hunger, before reappearing again with steaming plates of Irish breakfast—fried egg, tomato, hash brown, sausages and bacon—expressing concern that we might injure ourselves if we came in contact with the piping hot plates. She assured us she would check in on us soon, worried that this might not be enough food to fortify us for the morning ahead.

On the morning we ordered overnight oats instead of the Irish breakfast a worried Bridie delivered these to the table, a note of disappointment in her voice as she explained in detail the choices we had of various toppings and additions on the sideboard to supplement the overflowing jar of oats that I had dumped into my bowl. Her concern over our choice and its impact on our well being was certainly vindicated as I poured my first cup of coffee from the French press into the empty jar of oats rather than into my coffee cup. When I had oats again the next morning Brodie preemptively and quickly removed my empty oat jar before I could do any further damage.

In between voicing concern over our nutritional intake and my mental capacity Bridie would share her insights into the weather, which ranged from “It might be a little misty at times” to variations on the prospects for steady rain or thundershowers possibly ruining our stay, with the qualifier, “Ah just walk on we will, you’s never know.” To be fair, being a weather prognosticator in Ireland might be the world’s most difficult job. The forecast changes by the hour.

Thankfully, we did manage to get our steps in each day, walking into the city centre and exploring the attractions of Galway, in the rain and in the sun.

Galway centre

Hats off to cousin Tim who shared the benefits of his many, many visits to Ireland by providing a step by step description of getting around Galway’s medieval centre, including a number of bang-on recommendations of where to eat and drink. We took a walking tour the first full day and joined a food and drinks tour that evening. Both tours were good, but Tim’s eye for detail in his email summaries to me were even more informative

The old medieval city centre roughly begins at the Spanish Arch, at what remains of the old Anglo-Norman walls (other than the bit of wall preserved in the belly of the Eyre Square shopping centre). The streets are narrow and at odd angles but it is relatively easy to navigate.

Galway is full of quaint gift shops, wool and claddagh ring stores, music shops, book stores and terrific pubs. We spent some time in all of them. Robin spent a lot of time eyeing up the various wool products from the Aron Islands.

My time was spent considering how I might find room for an Irish harp or bouzouki in my carry on bag, and covetously browsing for books. Charlie Byrne’s Bookshop was particularly impressive.

Statues, Sculptures and Stories

Galway loves a festival and a good story. One story that we heard a few times involved John F. Kennedy’s visit to Galway in 1963. The Irish love Kennedy, and there is definitely a reciprocal feeling towards the Irish from Americans. The town was full of them, many apparently here for a college football game in Dublin between the TCU horned toads (or some other horned reptile) and the North Carolina Belichiks (I think I got that one right). Explains the shockingly high prices for hotel rooms in Dublin this week! We were certainly outnumbered on the two tours we were on, but everyone was on their best behaviour.

One of the most distinctive symbols of Galway are the rusty red sails of the Galway Hooker sailing boats, represented in the murals below and by the signature sculpture in Eyre Square in the centre of town.

The Galway City Museum is well worth an hour or two. Admission is free (donations encouraged) and its three floors take you through the archeological history of the area dating back thousands of years to the troubles and trauma of the last 150 years. The top floor shifts to a look at the role the city played in the development of contemporary medical technology and the marine life and ecosystem of Galway Bay. Of course, Robin had her own favourite exhibit.

Outside the Centre

There is lots to see outside the city centre. A walk along the river leads you directly to Galway Cathedral. Built on the site of the former city building and completed in 1965, it is the last great stone cathedral built in Europe. It’s a striking space with beautiful stained glass windows.

Further on past the cathedral lies the campus of The University of Glasgow. Roughly 30,000 students attend this school, which adds a young feel to a city of 80,000 full time residents. The quadrangle was one of the first spaces built in 1845, just as the Great Famine was underway.

The (not so) Long Walk, and other walks

The Long Walk, also referenced by Steve Earle in Galway Girl, is neither long not much of a walk, and is in fact best viewed from across the River Corrib. We loved the added presence of dozens of swans feeding in the river mouth.

The trail system up the river and along the canals is very pleasant, and allows you to move on traffic free corridors from the city centre to the cathedral and beyond to The University of Galway. It’s a great way to work off the Irish stout.

The waterway trail system extends along the coast as well, from the Spanish Arch all the way to the end of the Salthill Prom. It’s a little disconcerting to spot palm trees along the shoreline given that Galway is about 10 degrees north of Toronto (roughly 1000 kms)!

Pubs and Music

Speaking of Irish stout, we (ok, I) felt obligated to try a few. Guinness of course, which tastes lighter and creamier in Ireland, as well as Beamish and Murphy’s. As our time unfolded in Galway we got used to a bowl of soup and a pint for lunch (thanks Tim for the idea) and tried to time dinner with some live music in one of the pubs. Pub life in Ireland was all about “good craic”, a good time. However, as our guide on the first day shared, focusing on Irish craic (pronounced “crack”) and Galway Hookers as symbols of the city was confusing for some visiting tourists. It no longer featured prominently in the tourism campaign.

The music and pub atmosphere was all top notch, and nowhere better than at The Crane, a grittier place in terms of charm and decor but one of the top traditional music spots (trad music, as they say) in Galway.

We jammed ourselves into the top floor on two nights. Our first night included an impromptu sing along songs from locals as well. Two women from Kansas and Arkansas led the bar in a rendition of Dolly Parton’s Jolene, as word had spread through the bar that Parton had just passed away. A memorable, and very human, moment.

Galway was great craic: a wonderful first stop on our trip. Up next, we hit the Wild Atlantic way after a brief stop in Dublin.