It's been exactly three weeks since I boarded a plane and left Western Ireland. After two weeks of sightseeing, beer drinking, and travel writing I was getting a little homesick for my friends and family. I knew I'd miss the Emerald Isles, but I didn't realize how much I would miss it. Or mostly, I didn't realize how much I would miss one particular place: Galway City.
Galway sits on the coast of the Atlantic where fishing boats tie up to docks in the harbor waiting for their next trip out to sea. Street musicians sing with a vibrancy I've never seen before and left their pain in the strings of their guitars. Tourists and locals alike, flock to see one particular group perform, Galway Street Club, a mix of about 10 musicians who have a bluesy sound and one member that reminds you a little of a young Bob Dylan with his messy hair and boyish smile. The other members are an eclectic blend of young and old, each with their own unique and carefree, grunge style. It seems like the only dress code the band has is either a pair of Dr. Martens or no shoes at all. Each set performed in the middle of the famous Quay Street ends with "The House of the Rising Sun," a song that always sings with passion and desperation for an innocence lost or the father who was never around. But, when I was there, it wasn't pain and sorrow that filled the hearts of the crowd as the words, "Oh mothers, oh tell your children, not to do what I have done and spend your life in sin and misery in the house of the rising sun." Instead, the group of musicians and onlookers all found themselves giggling at the young girl and drunk man that had stumbled their way to the front of the group and entertained the crowd with elaborate dancing only a toddler and drunk are capable of. When the drunk fell and stumbled no one stopped to kick him out of the front. Instead, one of the band members grabbed his arms and started to dance with him. Galway showed us all kindness that day.
Locals refer to Galway as the graveyard of ambition. After a few too many pints of Guinness and a new piercing in the right side of my nose, maybe I found myself a little less ambitious than before, but I don't think that's such a bad thing. Galway is full of talented musicians, artists, comedians, and all other sorts of entertainers. It's in Galway that you can get "the craic" (pronounced crack), what locals refer to as good, fun conversation—something that isn't always prominent in the hustle and bustle of American life. Maybe I lost a little bit of ambition to work so hard, but I also felt a renewed sense of ambition to live a full life. E.E. Cummings wrote, "You should above all things be glad and young". Galway may have taken some of my work ethic, but, in its streets crowded with talent, joy, and art I felt undeniably glad and young.
