Ireland on a Working Visa #21

By: Anthony St. Clair

July 3rd
Something that I love most in life is riding through rain, rain that falls so hard it makes the bus windows seem like they’re rippling. I love to look out my window, see the rain still block the horizon, and then to look out the window opposite, and see through unrippled glass a broken sky. I love that contrast, and what sky is bluer, than that seen once the gray clouds begin breaking after a storm?

The only thing better, is stashing all my gear, not to mention my arse, inside the belly of a ferry (or anywhere, for that matter) during a clear sky, then to look out a few minutes later and find it pouring. I grin as I write, reclining in my seat on the 6:30 p.m. ferry to Inisheer (the Anglicized, phonetic spelling of its Irish name – Inis OÃrr – translates as the “Small Island”), one of the three Aran Islands in the mouth of Galway Bay.

I break up my timeline, though. As far as narrative is concerned, I am still on the 5:15 Galway-Rossaveel bus, riding through Connemara, near the coast. It is, as of yet, still raining on all sides of this bit of the world. People still walk outside, some in raincoats, some in sopping t-shirts and jeans; none seem too bothered by the rain (of course, I’m just bouncing by, in a puddle-splashing bus). Yet if rain bothered the Irish too much for them to be arsed going outside, then most Irish would die without ever having left their homes.

Speaking of houses, there’s nothing like a good night’s sleep and a big breakfast to make me lose all concern about not having one anymore. Unless you count my backpack, that is; Jacinta, even, calls her pack her “house”. Before breakfast I relocated my house to the back room at work, then grabbed my daypack and set out around town for the morning. After brekky I called around to see Ram at the Woodquay; he would be leaving Galway while I was away, and we probably wouldn’t see each other again until we both were back in Oregon.

Off work at three, I called back in around five to pick up my house, which must have been quite a sight to my co-workers: teeny Anthony, swinging onto his back a pack almost the same size as the body lugging it. J.J. shook his head. “Jesus, that’s some bag,” he said. My daypack I switched around front – I call it my “pregnancy pack” – and set off.

Now, in life and in narrative, the ferry pulls away. Yet again, out one window, I see rain, but out the other, the clouds are whiter, higher, less menacing. Lightning has flashed a couple of times, which makes me wonder if I’ll see a thunderstorm while on Inisheer – a nice accompaniment for a pint. The way the weather changes on the islands – compared to the Arans, where bay becomes ocean, Galway’s weather has all the constancy of stasis – I may get that chance.

I actually came to Inisheer before, in April, not long after I had arrived in Galway, but I never did get around to writing about it.

Inisheer isn’t visited by many tourists at any time, but definitely not in April. Cold and rain are everywhere, except for the pub and the hostel. There are three pubs, actually, but my friends and I only went to one. I forget the name, but it was the one on the hill; that will suffice. The turf fire never died, the Guinness went down smooth, and I packed away lunch after lunch of seafood chowder (at IRÂ£3.50, a huge bowl and a meal in itself), and main dishes of lamb and veg.

Weather should be different in July – I hope. I’d like to be able to explore. When I was here before, the sea was so choppy that it was hard to move around the ferry, and the rain never stopped. The sky was gray, the air was gray; even the sea was gray, as if the cold had sapped the very color from it.

Slap me.

During the course of the day, I bought groceries, soap and toothpaste. I even got a haircut. Know what I forgot to buy?

Film.

Though I’d have to check, I’m almost certain that I am a witness to the longest-lasting rainbow ever seen. Though rain still falls over the northern mainland, the clouds recently broke over Co. Clare, the cliffs of Moher, and Inisheer. I’ve been standing on the upper deck since this amazing double rainbow appeared about 20 minutes ago, with one end of the arc coming out of the water, curving high over Inisheer, and ending in blue sky just above O’Brien’s Castle (CaisleÃ¡n UÃ Bhriain), on top of Inisheer’s central hill.

And I don’t have any film.

Turning away from the rainbow – I can’t bear to dwell on it – the population of Inisheer is about 300 (one pub per every 100 people). As you can guess, things are pretty quiet, so much so that Inisheer and Inishmaan don’t even have Garda stations; Inishmore does, but there are only a few officers.

It’s a quiet island, isolated and harsh, but lovely (especially when there’s a bloomin’ rainbow shining). Even during the summer, the day tourist or holidaymaker is more likely to go to Inishmore, not Inisheer. Inisheer – at any time – is for the person who wants to escape the world, who wants to enjoy solitude and silence. I have a few days to indulge in this escape; I just hope I won’t be spending all of it in the pub, but no matter what, I will enjoy this solitude awhile.

Island Basics
The offices for Island Ferries are just around the corner from the Tourist Office. A student return is IRÂ£15, and includes the bus to and from Rossaveel.

There are two sailings daily between Apr. 1-Oct. 31, departing Rossaveel at 10:30 a.m. (bus leaves Galway at 9:15) and 6:30 p.m. (bus leaves Galway at 5:15), and departing Inisheer at 8:30 a.m. (bus arrives in Galway at 11) and 4 p.m. (bus arrives in Galway at 6:30). An inter-island service is available during the summer season.

Alternatively, as each island has a landing strip you can fly via Aer Arann (10 minute-flight from Connemara Airport, IRÂ£29 student return, which includes transportation from Galway). You can also depart from or arrive in Doolin, which is the closest to Inisheer and makes for the fastest ferry crossing.

There are B&Bs on Inisheer, but there is also a great, laidback hostel just up from the pier. The Bru Radharc Na Mara Hostel is open all year. During high season a dorm bed is IRÂ£8-9, and a twin room is IRÂ£10.50 per person.

To book, phone 099 750 87 or 099 750 24, or you can book and pay through Island Ferries when you purchase your ferry ticket (they’ll give you a voucher that you hand in when you arrive at the hostel). Nice sitting room with open fire, TV and VCR, also excellent kitchen. Linen is provided, and the showers are nice, but there is hot water only in the morning.

Food-wise, there is one shop on the island, which sells everything from cereal to pasta sauce to milk to frozen foods. It’d be best to bring your own fruit and veg, as there isn’t much of a selection. Prices are also a bit higher on the islands, so in general it’s better to bring your own food, and pick up perishables once you’re here. If you want to eat out, there are a couple of cafes and restaurants.

For more information on the Aran Islands, there are some books in the hostel, or you can check out these links:

The Aran Islands: A Back Door (Rick Steves)

Rick Steves on Arans

St. Cavan’s Church