by Nicole Bravo
We landed in Shannon, on the west coast of Ireland during a storm...naturally. I asked if we could just wait for the bus under the covered area of the airport but all the others waiting insisted that we had to stand at the actual bus loading sign otherwise the bus wouldn't stop. I found this to be a bit ridiculous, but went along with the crowd huddled together in the rain. We loaded the only bus going north toward Galway. In my previous research I hadn't been able to find a bus going to the small village we were staying in and was disappointed when the bus driver confirmed it saying, "You'll have to go two hours north to Galway, and then catch another bus and come back down. Only the southbound bus stops in that town." I felt sure that I would go crazy on that bus. We had an early morning wake up, I was hungry and soaking wet, and couldn't bear passing up our village just to wait at another station for hours in order to catch a second bus that would bring us back down. There had to be another way.
In desperation, I asked the driver to inform me when we were nearing the stop closest to the town. I was hoping to come up with a plan by then. Well the stop came sooner rather than later and he informed me that our village was just ten miles east of there. In a moment of desperation as the bus doors were closing I looked at Lauren and said, "Let's go!" We jumped off the bus into another downpour, unloaded our bags, and ran across the street into what looked like a liquor store but also contained a bakery and bank. I realized this would either be one of those moments like in the movies where the locals extend kindness and hospitality towards foreigners, or not. If the latter, we would be totally out of luck; it would be a long walk to Kinvara from there. There was no plan B. As we entered, I lifted my hands in despair and asked the older man behind the counter if there was anyway he could help us get to Kinvara. His reply didn't sound promising. There were no buses going that way for hours, it was too far to walk, and all of the local taxis were up in Galway for the summer horse races. The banking lady said she'd make a phone call and she managed to get a hold of a taxi driver that was willing to come down from the races, for a little extra cash of course. Plan A was a success, thank God for the Irish!
The taxi driver picked us up and as he drove us along he explained all about the horse races and then about some famous Irish band that we just had to listen to. He put in their CD, sang along, and told us all kinds of details about them. As we made it into the small village he pointed out the famous Dunguaire Castle, told us a bit of the history of town, and which pubs were the best. We would later find this information extremely helpful since the the town consisted mostly of two small grocery stores and about 14 pubs. The cheerful driver asked us how long we were staying and told us to call him another day, that he'd come out and show us around the area and all the best places to go to. There was no scam here, he was so genuine and friendly, it was hard to believe, yet impossible to think otherwise.
We may have been soaking wet, but we found ourselves warmed within by the kind Irishmen that had welcomed us to their country thus far, and this was just the beginning. Now to explore the seaport town on Galway Bay, Kinvara.
We landed in Shannon, on the west coast of Ireland during a storm...naturally. I asked if we could just wait for the bus under the covered area of the airport but all the others waiting insisted that we had to stand at the actual bus loading sign otherwise the bus wouldn't stop. I found this to be a bit ridiculous, but went along with the crowd huddled together in the rain. We loaded the only bus going north toward Galway. In my previous research I hadn't been able to find a bus going to the small village we were staying in and was disappointed when the bus driver confirmed it saying, "You'll have to go two hours north to Galway, and then catch another bus and come back down. Only the southbound bus stops in that town." I felt sure that I would go crazy on that bus. We had an early morning wake up, I was hungry and soaking wet, and couldn't bear passing up our village just to wait at another station for hours in order to catch a second bus that would bring us back down. There had to be another way.
In desperation, I asked the driver to inform me when we were nearing the stop closest to the town. I was hoping to come up with a plan by then. Well the stop came sooner rather than later and he informed me that our village was just ten miles east of there. In a moment of desperation as the bus doors were closing I looked at Lauren and said, "Let's go!" We jumped off the bus into another downpour, unloaded our bags, and ran across the street into what looked like a liquor store but also contained a bakery and bank. I realized this would either be one of those moments like in the movies where the locals extend kindness and hospitality towards foreigners, or not. If the latter, we would be totally out of luck; it would be a long walk to Kinvara from there. There was no plan B. As we entered, I lifted my hands in despair and asked the older man behind the counter if there was anyway he could help us get to Kinvara. His reply didn't sound promising. There were no buses going that way for hours, it was too far to walk, and all of the local taxis were up in Galway for the summer horse races. The banking lady said she'd make a phone call and she managed to get a hold of a taxi driver that was willing to come down from the races, for a little extra cash of course. Plan A was a success, thank God for the Irish!
The taxi driver picked us up and as he drove us along he explained all about the horse races and then about some famous Irish band that we just had to listen to. He put in their CD, sang along, and told us all kinds of details about them. As we made it into the small village he pointed out the famous Dunguaire Castle, told us a bit of the history of town, and which pubs were the best. We would later find this information extremely helpful since the the town consisted mostly of two small grocery stores and about 14 pubs. The cheerful driver asked us how long we were staying and told us to call him another day, that he'd come out and show us around the area and all the best places to go to. There was no scam here, he was so genuine and friendly, it was hard to believe, yet impossible to think otherwise.
We may have been soaking wet, but we found ourselves warmed within by the kind Irishmen that had welcomed us to their country thus far, and this was just the beginning. Now to explore the seaport town on Galway Bay, Kinvara.
