Yesterday I was in Galway City for the first time in years. I knew it was going to be showery, Met Éireann left me in no doubt what to expect, but since I had a chance to explore and reacquaint myself with the city I decided to grab it.
I was prepared for the worst of weather. I had a woolly hat, scarf, gloves, a Gore-Tex lined rain jacket, leggings and a waterproof backpack to carry the lot in. I also brought a book, A Long Long Way by Sebastian Barry, just in case things got really bad and I had to take shelter for a couple of hours. But apart from a few showers, the heaviest around 2pm, I was able to walk around, listen to the buskers chat to the locals and enjoy what is a jewel of a city.
My first stop was what looked like a temporary tourist office on Eyre Square. The very helpful lady behind the counter gave me a map with all the highlights marked. We chatted a little about the city, the amount of time I had and we agreed the best route to take.
I started with Shop Street and all its side streets taking in Lynch’s Castle, St Nicholas’ Church (I was St Nicholas’ Feast Day after all), Kirwan’s Lane, Spanish Arch and over to Claddagh. I didn’t feel I had enough time to head out to Salthill so after Claddagh I went back towards the pedestrian area and on to Lynch’s Window, over the Salmon Weir Bridge To Galway Cathedral and then to the University.
I loved the feel of the centre and I though how lucky a student must be to go to NUIG with a campus only 15 minutes walk from Eyre Square!
The Buskers were great. First of all there were three lads who gave a rousing version of Spancil Hill and later in the day a man in a dark hat and a bow tie comfortably switched from opera to Dean Martin! Fantastic stuff.
Was there any disappointment? The only one I can think of is that I didn’t pop in to one of Galway’s many fine bars for a pint. There I was within a few steps of McSwiggan’s, The King’s Head and Neachtain’s and I didn’t take the time to savour a scrummy pint. But I didn’t really have the time and it would have been a bit of a rush – another time definitely.
Was there a highlight? I think walking around Claddagh talking to a local man who kindly took the time to give me a little history of the village.
He told me that the village got its name from the Irish word cladach which means stony shore. When the fishing village was at its height 160 open fishing boats (hookers) would regularly put out to sea. The best time to go fishing was decided by the village King, an elected leader considered to be the wisest member of the community. They sold their catch at a market beside the Spanish Arch just over the river.
I think we could have talked all day if the rain had held off.
