The Aran Islands

One aspect of traveling in Ireland that we didn’t expect was the lack of ATM machines. Many of the bed and breakfasts require cash payment, and this can be tricky, given the cash limits on U.S. withdrawals. On the day we traveled to the Aran Islands, we had to be at Doolin to catch the ferry in the early morning. Thank goodness they accepted VISA because there wasn’t an ATM machine anywhere in Kilfenora where we stayed. (Quick note: We loved staying in Kilfenora. They have the best pub, Vaughn’s, which had an Irish ceili the night before. Imagine the entire town, aged 90 to 14, dancing at 10:30 at night. They did all sorts of traditional dances, and we had an absolute blast.)

But back to the islands. The weather was not on our side at first. The clouds were misty, almost obscuring our ferry view of the Cliffs of Moher. The Atlantic Ocean was almost black in color, and the boat trip over was very choppy.

Note the name of our boat. Gotta love it. We decided to tour Inishmor, the largest of the Aran Islands. The ferry ride over lasted about an hour and a half. At first I was afraid Inishmore would be a complete tourist trap, but truly, there’s no such thing. To truly enjoy the beauty of the Aran Islands, hire a jaunting car. We hired Kevin, our fearless guide, shown here on the far right with my husband and I. Kevin was quite the character. Like most islanders, his native language is Irish, not English. He had a wonderful accent, which reminded me of a pirates. I asked Kevin about some of the wildflowers blooming. “That be ragwort,” he said. “It be pizen for th’ horses. It’ll burn their liver. Bad stuff, it is.” Personally, I think Kevin was one of the highlights. It took about an hour to travel across the island, and here are some of the views we saw. Inishmor is truly a place lost in time. It was breathtaking to amble along the road, with Kevin’s colorful narrative, hearing the horse’s hooves upon the road. Along the way, Kevin would point out the ruins of a house or church, several hundred years old. My writer’s imagination would picture a medieval family, trying to survive on the island. Then Kevin would remark, “It be a fine shed. Put a roof on it.” A pragmatic man, our Kevin.

The trip across the island boasted narrow roads, stone walls made of limestone and granite, and the walls were covered in blackberry bushes. We took the horse up to Dun Aengus, a ring fort built in 1100 BC. The fort was right on the edge of the Atlantic.

Here’s a second view. If you want to see the full-sized photo, click here Part of the ring fort has already crumbled into the sea, but the vast majority is intact. The view of the surrounding countryside and ocean are just stunning. To me, this was better than the Cliffs of Moher because it still had the wild, untamed aspect. I could just sit and watch the view forever from Dun Aengus. And to imagine a dwelling still intact from over 3000 years ago was simply amazing.

We drove back, and Kevin was none-too-pleased at the mini-tour buses who overtook our horse and cart. A few times when children on bikes came too close, Kevin would say, “Beep-beep.” We ended our trip where I bought my Aran fisherman’s sweater. And to top it off, we got sunburned in 60 degree weather. Still, it was worth it.

If you want to see more pictures, here is our horse and cart. And here’s a Celtic cross. Here’s a view of a ruin and another of the countryside. Enjoy!