The Luck of The Irish

Following our budget-busting week in London we threw on our backpacks once again and departed Britain for its eye-wateringly expensive neighbour - the beautiful and timeless Ireland.

Ireland moves at a different pace

From the second we emerged from our cost-friendly (but 12+ hour long) coach and ferry journey, we noticed the change of pace.

Whereas London had been typically manic and full of people rushing to get somewhere, Dublin felt positively languid. Shopkeepers conversed with their customers, inquiring after their family and their health. Bus drivers greeted us warmly and gave directions to our accommodation. People stopped to help mothers manoeuvring large prams, or to assist elderly patrons board the bus... It all just felt so warm and welcoming.

And before anyone accuses me of perpetuating Irish stereotypes, such behaviour has been consistent throughout our journey which has thus far included Dublin, Belfast, Derry, Galway, Cork and Killarney. They're just such a friendly bunch of people! And I, for one, am soaking up their hospitality like a sponge.

As I've mentioned before on this blog, traveling can sometimes get quite lonely. Not all hostels are brimming with fellow vagabonds eager to converse about their journey. Nowadays with free WiFi everywhere, many hostels have a problem with common areas being full of individuals glued to their devices instead of interacting with one another. And whilst many private rooms with locals have been budget-friendly; language barriers or miscommunication with hosts has meant that not all have been particularly people-friendly. 

Everywhere in Ireland has been fantastic

But so far everywhere we have stayed in Ireland has been fantastic - from the quirky Marilyn Mansion in Dublin opening their doors to us at 6:30am and ushering us in from the rain, to our fabulous host in Belfast sharing wine and food and watching movies with us, or the lovely family at Fairman House in Derry giving us free museum passes on a particularly wet and windy day.

And it's not just those within the hospitality business either. I've seen countless examples of strangers conversing with one another at the supermarket checkout, or cabbies beeping and waving at their neighbours as they pass them in the street... it seems like every person we pass as we drive through towns and villages gives us a smile and a nod.

Whilst Ireland has undoubtedly had a turbulent past with much of it still very raw (as anyone who takes a Black Taxi tour of Belfast can attest), there's nonetheless a strong sense of community and history here. Which has caused me to reflect upon my own community and history back in Melbourne... or rather, lack thereof.

Ireland has a turbulent past

An unfortunate downside to constantly moving around is the impact it can have on relationships. I've spent much of the last several years living out of suitcases, having travelled or moved approximately every six to twelve months (the one exception being the year and a half spent in Melbourne saving for this trip). Consequently, it's common for me to not see or speak to friends and family for months at a time. Or upon my return, for things to feel a little awkward.

It's no one's fault. It's just the reality of long term travel. Whilst Facebook and Skype has made things a tad easier, it's still no substitute for regular interaction. Some people seem to presume that travelling is just one long, boozy, hiatus from real life. But it becomes your real life. You grow. You change. You have life-altering experiences and interactions with people. Similarly, those at home continue to grow and change and have life-altering experiences without you.

It would be naïve of me to expect things to remain the same while I'm away and for time to have stood still. I actually first learnt that lesson not when I embarked upon my own travels, but when friends returned from theirs. Whilst I had initially been devastated when they left, after a few years when they returned to Australia I often found myself in a very different stage of my life. In some cases I was too busy with university, or my career. Other times it was simply that my interests had changed. I moved in different circles. I did different things. C'est la vie.

Travel isn't a hiatus from real life - it becomes your real life

And despite being content in my own company and (for the most part) more than happy with my life on the road, I still have moments where I miss Australia. Whilst I love the freedom of travelling, I do envy those who have long histories with others and a sense of belonging and community... which is probably why the camaraderie amongst the communities of Ireland has had such an impact.

I was musing over such feelings the other night as I lay awake in our dorm in Galway. I don't sleep particularly well in dorms, as the constant opening and closing doors and turning on lights and snoring generally keeps me awake (despite using earplugs). Just when I'd resigned myself to getting no sleep whatsoever, two of our Irish roommates staggered in. They were evidently drunk, with one collapsing face-first into his bed (shoes and all) and the other clearly struggling to climb the ladder to the top bunk.

As the other dorm-mates shifted and sighed disgruntledly (having all been woken by their arrival), the two Irishmen began to snore. I had never heard anything like it. It sounded as if an aircraft was landing in the room. Unfortunately, as I was in the bunk next to theirs, it sounded as if an aircraft was landing in my ear. In addition, one of them was farting so emphatically that it shook the whole bed.

I need my sleep when travelling

Not sleeping was one thing, but lying awake being subjected to that deafening roar was just too much. I grabbed my duvet and my pillow and went to reception. There was a guy on the desk talking to a young woman who had clearly just returned for the night. They both looked at me quizzically as I came out of the lift.

"Can I go in there?" I said, pointing to the TV room.

"No - it's closed," he replied, confused.

"Well how about the kitchen?" I pleaded, "I can't go back upstairs..."

"But you have a bed," he said, shaking his head.

"It doesn't matter, I'll sleep on the couch. Those two guys you let in have just woken up the whole room, their snoring is ridiculous. I'm not going back there. I'll sit on the stairs if I have to..." My eyes widened as I pleaded with him. He continued to shake his head.

"I'm NOT going back there..." I repeated, preparing myself for a fight, when the girl at the counter interrupted: "She can stay with me," she squealed, placing an arm over my shoulder. "Hun, my roommate has gone to her boyfriend's house. You can share my room. It's OK, you can stay with me," she repeated, smiling reassuringly.

The guy behind the counter sighed. "Which room were you in?"

"Number 16," I said, "You can go in and hear it for yourself. Everyone is awake already."

"Hun, seriously stay with me. Come on, you'll sleep in there," the young girl repeated, "OK?" she asked, turning to the guy behind the counter. He shrugged, evidently over it. "You OK with that?" he asked me.

"Sure," I replied, "thank you."

Too much Guinness perhaps?

"OK let's go," said the young woman, pulling me down the hall. Away from the reception desk, she whispered, "My friend isn't really at her boyfriend's house. She just went home with some guy at the bar," she giggled, "but it's cool, she won't be back until tomorrow. Just warning you though - the room stinks a bit..."

She unlocked the door and turned on the light. There were two bunks, the bottom ones strewn with clothes and an assortment of cosmetics. 'Stinks a bit' was an understatement - the room reeked of vomit.

"Sorry," she mumbled, kicking some bags out of the way, "The room was really clean when we checked in but the smell was already here. I think whoever was in here yesterday must have had a big night..."

"It's fine," I replied, "this is really nice of you. Seriously it is. I haven't slept at all..." I trailed off, eyes scanning the room for a free bed. The young woman pointed to one of the top bunks - "That's yours then. You'll at least get a few hours sleep in here with me."

I took the pillow and duvet off the bed and replaced it with my own. As I went to lay down I realised the smell of vomit was coming from my corner of the room - the smell was so strong, it was as if someone had thrown up right under my pillow. Still, I reasoned, anything was better than lying next to a drunken volcano erupting with flatulence.

My good Samaritan was a fellow Aussie travelling Ireland

"Are you Australian?" I asked my new bedroom companion, as she climbed into the bunk next to me. "I thought I recognised your accent..."

"I am!" she exclaimed, "Where are you from?"

And so for the next hour we lay in the dark talking until sleep overcame me and I could no longer form intelligible sentences. My good Samaritan was in fact a fellow Aussie who was living in the UK and had come to Ireland for a short break with a friend. She had travelled extensively, living in Vietnam for a time working as a journalist and, like me, was off travelling the world while she contemplated her career and her 'what's next'. We hit it off immediately.

The next morning having managed to get a few hours sleep I gave her a hug and we exchanged email addresses, promising to keep in touch. As I walked back to the dorm it occurred to me that it's moments like these that make travelling so worthwhile. Because whilst it's easy to get sad for the friends you leave behind, or get nostalgic for the history that you shared, it's important to remember the potential for what might lay ahead. You never know who you'll meet (or under what circumstances) - and you may just make a new friend.

It was nice to be reminded that the camaraderie I'd witnessed these last few weeks isn't limited to the Irish. Us Aussies can be a pretty friendly and hospitable bunch when we want to as well...

Let's all try and show the world (and each other) a little bit more of that eh?

You never know what might lay ahead