A couple of years ago, I began planning a trip to Ireland. It had been at the top of my list for a long time from everything I’d heard from others and read about. The lush landscape, the infamous hospitality, the whiskey…so I determined it was finally time to make a plan and go. At first, every friend I talked to wanted to go! Just a few months later, every single one had backed out. But I refused to cancel.
I had lived in Europe for a while years earlier and had ventured out by myself for a weekend here and there, but this would be my first true solo vacation. I was thrilled by the idea of the adventure. Ecstatic to be the captain of my destiny with no one to have to compromise with. I would be free to do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted.
This was my anthem to any and all friends who had canceled on me in the past. Or family members that were sure I’d have a dreadful time alone. Nothing but confidence and anticipation. But when I was by myself, when I was really honest, I was nervous. Not that I’d get bored or that it might be unsafe. I was nervous that I’d get lonely. That I’d experience things you wanted to share with another person and find myself missing out on the magic.
I can almost hear the Irish laughing…
If you’ve heard anything about Irish hospitality, you might have already been thinking it was needless to worry. But I was blown away. Over the ten day trip, I made new friends nearly each one.
My first day on the Emerald Isle took me to Galway. After getting settled in my AirBNB, I wandered the small town and found a wine bar with live jazz. I settled into a cozy table and treated myself to burrata with spring peas and eggplant parmigiana. I got lost in the improvised rhythm of the music, the soft velvet texture of the wine, the decadence of the meal. By the time I left, I had a light, happy buzz perfect for wandering.
As I ambled down cobbled streets in the city center, I came upon a crowd that had formed around some street performers. The performers were wagering with passersby that they wouldn’t be able to hold onto a seemingly stable bar for a full minute. If they could, they’d win $100. I watched as person after person, including myself, tried and failed, laughing and cheering with my fellow spectators.
That’s when one of the ladies standing next to me asked where I was from and was I traveling by myself. When I told her I was, she instantly introduced me to her three companions and insisted they buy me a drink at the closest bar. One vodka soda turned into two. Instagram handles and Facebook profiles were exchanged. And before they left, all urged me to reach out if I needed anything or just wanted to hang out while I was in town.
Once they were gone, I drew further into the bar and found it was really three establishments all connected. As I ventured up an elegant staircase, I found myself in a lounge lively with music and conversation. I maneuvered my way to the bar and ordered a dirty martini. The woman waiting next to me again asked if I was alone and upon answering “Yes,” introduced herself and the guy who was with her. We made our way to a small outdoor area and became acquainted with two other women. All provided me with their social contact information. Most of whom I’m still connected with today.
That was just my first day.
The following day I made friends with tourists from upstate New York over champagne and oysters. The day after that I met two friends from California as we explored the Aran Islands and the Cliffs of Moher. They opted for an early night following the daytime excursion, so I dined alone. But not for long. At dinner, a couple from Dublin seated in the table next to me struck up a conversation. The beer they were drinking caught my eye, it was a local IPA I hadn’t tried before. They were only too happy to let me take a sip; this was pre-Covid after all. Then, they noticed the host at the restaurant paying special attention to me and organized for us all to meet at a bar around the corner when his shift was over. The couple introduced me to Dingle Gin while we waited and were sure it’d be a love match (with both the gin and the guy – the gin, absolutely – the guy, not so much).
After Galway, I made my way to the Dingle Peninsula. I had planned to stay further south, but I met an Australian couple at the bar in town who told me I had to stay in Dingle. Done. After dinner that night, I struck up a conversation with three American women. One of whom was a bartender at my favorite bar in Breckenridge, Colorado! We bar hopped and danced the night away until it was nearly dawn. I’m still in contact with her and we catch up every time I visit the mountains.
I found the magic!
I could go on because these kind of experiences occurred nearly every day I was in town. Both with locals and tourists alike. I’m still not really sure of the correlation, or causation. Do I unconsciously draw people in when I’m alone? Am I more outgoing and willing to strike up a conversation with strangers? Are the Irish simply opposed to anyone feeling left out, ever?
Maybe it’s all three. All I know is that this was the perfect introduction to traveling solo. I never felt lonely. And I experienced nothing but magic.
