I Hate Bikes - A Visit to the Aran Islands

Today was the day of our first trip out of Galway, to the Aran Islands. More specifically, we were going to Inishmore, the largest of the three islands. Before leaving the flat to go to the predetermined meeting place, I took a Dramamine, since I knew there would be a two-hour bus ride and a one-hour ferry ride that quite possibly could be the death of me and my stomach. The bus we took was a double decker, and I was very excited to sit on the top. We drove through a beautiful country/seaside area that I think is Connemara, the part of Ireland that still speaks Gaelic, but I’m not sure. I took so many pictures of grass, rocks, water, and sky. That’s basically all Ireland is I've realized, but I love it anyway. Jenn was saying that she wanted to knock on the doors to the houses along the shore and say, “Hello good sir, are you married?” I think I would do the same. When we got to the ferry it was incredibly cold, both inside and out. I tried singing the chorus to "I'm on a Boat" over and over again to keep myself warm. The ride on the ferry was intense, and I was gripping the arms of my seat. There were several times I thought we were going to capsize it was so rough. But since I took the Dramamine it was kind of fun. It felt like being on the lurch part of a roller coaster over and over and over again. It started to rain while we were on the boat, but somehow it miraculously stopped by the time we reached the island. The part of the island were we docked was beautiful. A seaside town that was very small and very quaint. There was a café, a sweater shop (the Aran Islands are known for their sweaters), and several bike shops. The plan was to ride bikes to this old fort towards the center of the island. Seemed simple enough. The ride was supposed to last about a half an hour, but for me it was probably more like 45 mins. I thought I was dying. The road had so many hills and I can’t even remember the last time I road a bike before today. Years, and years, and years ago. The chain on my bike even came off at one point. I was the last one to get there, and professor Jenkins kept asking me if I needed a push. When we got to the base of the hill were the fort was located, we parked our bikes and had some lunch at a little café nearby. I got a scone with homemade raspberry jam. It was so delicious that I ended up getting a second one. We hiked up to the fort with a tour guide who never introduced himself. The landscape surrounding the fort was beautiful, and the fort itself was impressive with all of the layers of rock it took to build it. The fort was against a 245-foot cliff the dropped into the ocean. We all lay down on the cliff edge and stared down into the water.

I was dreading the bike ride back, but they told us we were taking the easier way back. I was fuming that they made us take the hard way at all, but apparently they wanted us to see more of the island. I think that’s a load of crap since I wasn’t able to appreciate the island with all of the stupid biking I was doing. But the road back was definitely a lot flatter, and I actually wasn’t the last one. I looked around the sweater shop to see if there were any I liked, but they were all much more expensive than the ones in Galway were so I decided not to get one that day. I slept on the ferry ride back, which was a good thing because apparently someone farther behind me got sea sick and puked in the aisle. It was clean by the time I woke up. When we finally got home, Mekala and I just popped a frozen pizza in the oven and called it an early night.