from Hags Head via Doolin to Galway

Galway Travel Blog

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A hard rain had developed within a few kilometers north from the cliffs.  The American kids got off in Doolin where a castle ruin proudly waved the Irish flag.  As the rain poured down and the coach rolled into Galway, my concern began to grow over finding a place to stay.  Sure enough, the first hostel was full and the receptionist was unwilling to help me find another.  While struggling with the pay phone, Tai, an American girl who had a bed for the night, offered to call another hostel for me on her mobile phone.  She also suggested two pubs at which I might later find her.

 

On the sidewalk, however, I realized I had already forgotten the name of the hostel where I just reserved a bed.  I tried the one next door and it was full as well of course, but the keeper there was more helpful than the last.  He called Woodquay Hostel to confirm that they had a free bed and I went straight there.  As I unpacked, a French girl and a German guy, who had gotten off the bus with me, unloaded their things for the night as well.  The final roommate to enter was a gent from London.

 

By 10:30 that night, I was out in search of nightlife.  Tia was at neither of the pubs she suggested; each had a cool atmosphere, but I was bored alone.  Galway, I thought, was perhaps too hip a city to enjoy without company.  I just wandered the streets to take in the evening environment.  Amusingly, at one point, a couple of Irish pub-crawlers approached me to ask for directions to some place in the city.  Surely, they realized their error upon hearing the American accent in my reply.  Eventually, I made my way home and was in bed again with another bad spring digging into my ribs.
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Galway
photo by: AleksandraEa