After leaving California in late January (and stopping over to see some friends in New York City for a couple days), I landed in Ireland with a hangover and high hopes. I was to be volunteering at a hostel in County Wicklow—just south of Dublin—for the next month.
Through the site WorkAway, I was able to secure a bed at a hostel along the Wicklow Way—work a couple hours of housekeeping 5 days a week in exchange for free accommodations and spend the other two days a week however/wherever I please. (I almost always chose Dublin). As per usual, I showed up winging it. Found out it was about an hour’s walk from any bus stop/convenience store/civilization of any sorts. I half-expected that, and really came to love the seclusion, but when I had to trek back in the morning after a long night in Dublin, it could be a bit much. Still, loved every day of it.
The area is truly a dream. Though it rained most days (and snowed a couple times!), I did get a few full hiking days; the days I got lost for a few hours without a phone or a worry in the world are the ones that will stick with me. If the weather was shit for most of the day, but cleared up even briefly, I would slip out the back and walk down to a small, secret gazebo none of the other volunteers knew about. From the looks of it, the people whose property it was on used it as a place to practice shooting—there were empty bottles and cans lining the edge of it and shell casings all over the ground. It was an oasis for me. I would go there to write or read or take photos or nap if it wasn’t freezing.
My days off in Dublin are what made this stint in Ireland so lovely. I met up with friends and explored new parts of the area I didn’t have time to see before (like Dun Laoghaire and Howth and Killiney Hill and, a bit further out, Bray). I drank a lot. Ate a lot of buffalo wings and eggs benedict. I spent Valentine’s Day bowling with Shelby and Irish Mother’s Day eating homemade apple tart with Ciaran’s family. I worked my first photography gig making everyone look glam at an event for Ciaran’s veterinary class. I even celebrated St Patrick’s Day in Dublin! I wish I had more to say about that day but I started celebrating when I woke up and didn’t stop until I fell asleep on a street corner at midnight. It was grand.
My last weekend was spent on a road trip to county Mayo in the west of Ireland. What is supposed to be the rainiest part of Ireland was sunny and not freezing. We visited Clew Bay (which is composed of 365 islands woah), Ciaran and I briefly explored the town of Westport and went to a party at one of his friend’s houses. It’s funny to see Irish people’s reaction to a three-hour road trip, because for me that’s a day-trip to Santa Cruz or the Bay. Within a day of driving back to Dublin, I was off on my next adventure.
If this blog seems brief considering how long I was in Ireland, apologies. I was way more focused on myself and having a good time with my friends than documenting my every move. And I really did enjoy myself. I fuckin’ love Ireland. In a lot of ways, most of which are impossible to articulate. On to my next adventure. Hope everyone’s great. Talk soon.