More reasons I love Galway...
1) The people. Everyone there is just excellent for various reasons. Our first day we got lost and asked a lady who appeared to be in a hurry if she knew where our hostel was and she stopped for us and walked us most of the way. When you walk down the street, random people say hello or wave or give you a high five. It is just an excellent vibe throughout the city.
2) It is a city, but has the feel of a town. How do I explain this? Galway is not enormous, you can certainly walk to all of the sites, which I find very plesant. Public transport gives me a headache you cannot imagine, and not having to use it boosts a city up to a very high spot on my list.
3) Preserved tradition of the region: the Connemara area and the Aran Islands, both directly outside of Galway city, are still home to traditional farmers and gorgeous, sweeping landscapes. The inhabitants of these areas still even speak Gaelic. These areas are so peaceful and serene and truly genuine.
After leaving my dear, sweet Galway and the Aran Islands, Dianna and I headed to Killarney with a guy we had met in Galway from California who was also traveling Ireland. While in NY with my cousin this past summer, the extemely Irish bartender told us that he was from Killarney and that it was worth a visit, so we decided to check it out. The city was just alright, nothing phenomenal, but the National Park was breathtaking. We rented bikes and saw the Ross castle before continuing around the lakes and pausing briefly to look at an old monastary. We also had a little bread and cheese break on the rocky shores of one of the lakes to relax and dip our feet in the cool, clear water. One thing I learned in Killarney is that fast food fish and chips is NOT a good idea. It may seem like it when it is late and you are starving, but that was one of the grossest things I have ever eaten.
Now on to reasons that I despise Cork, where Dianna and I went for just one day after Killarney, and why I hope never to return:
1) The city smells like raisins, but not in a good way: I love raisins, but I don't love walking around a sketchy town full of sketchy people while the smell of raisins wafts about me. Gross.
2) A bad attitude: ok, so Dublin is not my favorite city in the world, that award has already been given to Galway. However, Dublin is incomprably superior to Cork in every way. Yet, Cork has to boast this stupid cocky attitude all of the time by claiming to be the "true capital of Ireland". Cork is like the rebel American
3) Commercialization and globalization: the city seems exactly like any big city in the United States in that the only stores that line the main walking area could be seen in my hometown. McDonald's littered the old streets that I would have loved if they were lined with traditional pubs instead.
As you can all imagine, I was rather devastated upon leaving Cork to go to Waterford. Except that I wasn't because Cork was a dreadful place. Waterford was a place I had always wanted to see ever since my father brought me back a pristine crystal horse from the famous factory years ago. The factory really was quite a sight to see, and I was happy for once that I look so insanely young because the lady at the counter assumed I was under 18 and gave me the child admission which was only 4 euro when I should have had to pay about 10.
Our stay in Waterford was overall pleasant, it is a bit more quiet there as it is less youth-oriented than cities like Galway. We had a rather horrendous night at the hostel, however, as we were sharing a room with the most obnoxious Irish and English guys I have ever had the "pleasure" of meeting. They left the room and came back in twice, extremely drunk, and were singing and talking for hours. Needless to say, not much sleeping was done that night. The next day, we intended to go on a walking tour of Waterford which focused mainly on the Viking history. We found out that they don't generally run on weekends, but the tour guide, an enthusiastic little Irish man, agreed to take just Dianna and I around the town.
Dublin came next. I have quite a lot of stories about it but am a little sick of typing, so I will just give a brief summary to keep you in suspense: drunk bus lady, the dreadful temple bar, and angry Brits.
1) The people. Everyone there is just excellent for various reasons. Our first day we got lost and asked a lady who appeared to be in a hurry if she knew where our hostel was and she stopped for us and walked us most of the way. When you walk down the street, random people say hello or wave or give you a high five. It is just an excellent vibe throughout the city.
2) It is a city, but has the feel of a town. How do I explain this? Galway is not enormous, you can certainly walk to all of the sites, which I find very plesant. Public transport gives me a headache you cannot imagine, and not having to use it boosts a city up to a very high spot on my list.
3) Preserved tradition of the region: the Connemara area and the Aran Islands, both directly outside of Galway city, are still home to traditional farmers and gorgeous, sweeping landscapes. The inhabitants of these areas still even speak Gaelic. These areas are so peaceful and serene and truly genuine.
After leaving my dear, sweet Galway and the Aran Islands, Dianna and I headed to Killarney with a guy we had met in Galway from California who was also traveling Ireland. While in NY with my cousin this past summer, the extemely Irish bartender told us that he was from Killarney and that it was worth a visit, so we decided to check it out. The city was just alright, nothing phenomenal, but the National Park was breathtaking. We rented bikes and saw the Ross castle before continuing around the lakes and pausing briefly to look at an old monastary. We also had a little bread and cheese break on the rocky shores of one of the lakes to relax and dip our feet in the cool, clear water. One thing I learned in Killarney is that fast food fish and chips is NOT a good idea. It may seem like it when it is late and you are starving, but that was one of the grossest things I have ever eaten.
Now on to reasons that I despise Cork, where Dianna and I went for just one day after Killarney, and why I hope never to return:
1) The city smells like raisins, but not in a good way: I love raisins, but I don't love walking around a sketchy town full of sketchy people while the smell of raisins wafts about me. Gross.
2) A bad attitude: ok, so Dublin is not my favorite city in the world, that award has already been given to Galway. However, Dublin is incomprably superior to Cork in every way. Yet, Cork has to boast this stupid cocky attitude all of the time by claiming to be the "true capital of Ireland". Cork is like the rebel American
3) Commercialization and globalization: the city seems exactly like any big city in the United States in that the only stores that line the main walking area could be seen in my hometown. McDonald's littered the old streets that I would have loved if they were lined with traditional pubs instead.
As you can all imagine, I was rather devastated upon leaving Cork to go to Waterford. Except that I wasn't because Cork was a dreadful place. Waterford was a place I had always wanted to see ever since my father brought me back a pristine crystal horse from the famous factory years ago. The factory really was quite a sight to see, and I was happy for once that I look so insanely young because the lady at the counter assumed I was under 18 and gave me the child admission which was only 4 euro when I should have had to pay about 10.
Our stay in Waterford was overall pleasant, it is a bit more quiet there as it is less youth-oriented than cities like Galway. We had a rather horrendous night at the hostel, however, as we were sharing a room with the most obnoxious Irish and English guys I have ever had the "pleasure" of meeting. They left the room and came back in twice, extremely drunk, and were singing and talking for hours. Needless to say, not much sleeping was done that night. The next day, we intended to go on a walking tour of Waterford which focused mainly on the Viking history. We found out that they don't generally run on weekends, but the tour guide, an enthusiastic little Irish man, agreed to take just Dianna and I around the town.
Dublin came next. I have quite a lot of stories about it but am a little sick of typing, so I will just give a brief summary to keep you in suspense: drunk bus lady, the dreadful temple bar, and angry Brits.
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