Tag

ireland travel

Browsing

The seaside town of Howth lies approximately 29 minutes east of Dublin. It’s been a trip two and a half years in the making, and the end result was worth the wait. No matter how much the city of Dublin captures my heart and undivided attention, I need breaks from urbanity. Ireland is renowned for its spectacular coastal villages, and Howth is no exception. It is a haven of a peninsula, a collection of centuries-old nobility and ruins, endless views of the water, and the best fish and chips you may ever have. We boarded the DART train from the…

0 Shares

The water has always been a close friend, and swimming my summertime joie de vivre. I am an urban gal at the core, but nothing brings me happiness quite like the ocean blue. My family and I, all probably made up 90% of water, tried our hand at the paddle with City Kayaking in Dublin, a 2-hour kayaking round trip on the River Liffey. Congregating at the company’s small trailer near the Samuel Beckett bridge, guests are provided a group locker for storage, a vest, an oar, and, in cooler temperatures or on rainy days, a waterproof jacket and pants.…

0 Shares

Happy April! Today I’m going to celebrate by sharing some of my favorite places to get a bite in Dublin. Now I’m hungry because A. I ate a bowl of cereal at 6:30 this morning and cereal, no matter how much I wish it did, does not tide me over until lunch. :\ and B. Because I’m ready for all of these things in my mouth right now–definitely with at least an hour or so between every meal. From now until we leave, I’ll be prepping my stomach for the copious amounts of fish and sweets I’ll be eating. When it…

0 Shares

On the southwestern coats of Ireland lies a seaside town with a dolphin-in-residence and one set of stoplights. Dingle is unassuming on first glance, but, like a charm, it wraps you around its finger and exudes an unmistakable warmth and unique flavor. “You’ve decided to stay in the real Ireland, as we like to say,” my driver into town said, a playful crease around his eyes. Even in the darkness cloaking the views, I could make out the defined rise and fall of its rolling sentinels of shelter. I glimpsed the town and, suddenly, we were driving away, shrouded again in the…

0 Shares

Cyclists near and far, beginner and intermediate, this one’s for you. I’m an amateur rider at best, having spent a summer learning how to confidently bike from my home in Everett, Massachusetts to downtown Boston in order to feel secure in cycling through Dublin for four months. When I arrived, the left lane driving and bike paths that wound in and around traffic shattered any stitch of self-assurance I’d previously had, and settled on renting bikes here and there. But I am a fervent lover of the mode, and it is probably my favorite way to see the world. Along…

0 Shares

Happy spring! It is far from the season here, as we’re expecting more snow today. *face palm* I thought that I would start an Ireland series here, because I am SO excitedly returning to visit my sister, Kaylee, as she is studying abroad in Dublin this semester. We both are now honorary Champlain College students, and both Champlain Dublin alum who are going to join in the program’s 10-year anniversary celebrations in Burlington, VT early this coming June. As Ireland is on my mind nearly all the time these days, I’m here to continue to spread the love I have…

0 Shares

James Taylor knew what he was talking about. Except instead of sunshine and moonshine, I can see the flourishing clouds covering and uncovering the sky and feel the drunken ecstasy. The mountains are one of my favorite things in the entire world, and though Ireland isn’t mountainous, per se, the terrain is rugged and craggy and, of course, green. Strung with valleys that cater off into the distance, and sheep that dot the landscape, it is a storybook fantasy come alive. While in Galway, Sam and I booked a tour through the Connemara Valley with Viator, an eight-hour bus ride…

0 Shares

“This is the closest you’ll ever get to Kit Harrington’s bum.” The observation is made by Aenne, our tour guide, who is gesturing to a worn tree stump among the beech trees surrounding us. Forty of us stand huddled together in plastic ponchos, November’s icy pellets of rain slowing to a sprinkle, as Aenne pulls out her book of still images to show us where and when, exactly, Kit’s bum called said stump home. My sister, Kaylee, my mom, Brenda, and I slip from the crowd to take turns grabbing a seat and posing for a photo. I probably say…

0 Shares