Though I missed a lot of potentially good posts last year, I still want to record my experience in Ireland. It was a very real dream. And relatively fresh.
I've deliberated on how to do this. I could do just one post. It would be forever long with hundreds of photos. More like an album than a post, really. But now that I'm considering it, I think I'm going to break it up. Focus on bits at a time. Let it be random, even. I want to savor this one. And I've been so overwhelmed at the thought of posting it all at once that I think I'll be more likely to record it this way.
It all started when Ian and his brothers went to Iceland in 2016. So many people called and messaged me asking why he was going to this place they had all
dreamed of going. For fun, I responded. A brother's trip. This made everyone all the more crazy. It wasn't for work or anything. It was just an opportunity taken. A very real adventure occurred.
One of these calls was my oldest sister Micaela. She told me one of her inspirations for learning to take better photos was a dream of Iceland. Somehow the conversation turned to where
I had always dreamed of going: Ireland. It's been this thing since I was a kid. There's something about those green cliffs dotted with sheep and penny walls-- tucked up against a cold shore. I've gravitated toward films about Ireland and in Ireland my whole life. Falling in love with their cadence of speech and ability to tell stories. Something about those thick white-washed cottages and thatched roofs. A connection to the sea. Something magic I was sure to find if I ever went.
Mica had been to Ireland. She and her husband's family had done a European cruise where they hit major points of Ireland along with the more northern countries that trip. She recalled these incredible villages in the southern tip of Ireland and had felt cheated that they'd spent only a few hours in each place. She had wanted to go back. And then it started. Let's go! she said. We planned for the end of the school year, the following year-- May 2017. "This is happening," she said.
And so it was that we were at the Cliffs of Moher around nine months later.
The Cliffs of Moher. More commonly recognized as the Cliffs of Insanity from
The Princess Bride. This was our first real destination, and it was the perfect beginning. In the lot they had a car show of old trucks and I had to take photos. I've never been so enamored by a truck before. They looked like beautiful toys to me! Though there were many people, of many nationalities, gathered along those cliffs-- as Mica and I would nestle in a spot to take it in-- it was easy to feel like we were the only ones for miles. We spent hours that way. Walking along. Finding a spot to sit along the edge. Sitting, breathing, being. Sometimes together, sometimes alone. Just thinking about the wind, the smell, and the sound of crashing dark blue waves and birds nesting and chirping in those slate cliffs is making me feel rejuvenated almost a year later.
After this we made our way to our first Air-Bnb-- feeling fairly exhausted from our long flight and hours on the cliffs. At Miltown Malbay we stopped for some dinner before settling in. The place we chose had a cheesy name. Something like "Tasty Restaurant" or something equally generic-- but the chalkboard menu out front sounded promising and we went. I'm not one to document my food generally, however I'm so glad I took photos of the food we ate while in this magnificent country. Everything was so delicious. My meal this night was a light fish in a creamy dill sauce with a side of veggies and mash. It was warm and comforting after our long day. For dessert we shared a slice of Ferrero Rocher cheesecake. It was even better than it sounds.
