ultra gaelic

I asked my colleagues what to do over my weekend in Galway. Consensus was to visit the Aran Islands, a group of three islands in Galway Bay that have developed an insular (literally!) culture with especially well preserved Irish language. Wikipedia will tell you much more. I was told that Inis Mór (the largest of the Aran Islands) is is a bit touristy, so I should instead go to Inis Meáin.

Indeed, once the bus took us to the ferry terminal, I realized I had definitely made the right choice … if by “right” you mean “not what everyone else is doing”. All the backpackers and assorted young people hopped onto the big fancy boat headed for Inis Mór, while just a handful of us got on the other boat, which went to the two smaller islands. Took a seat on the top deck and noticed a couple of guys carrying big boxes of produce on board. I started wondering whether the little bit of dried fruit I had in my backpack would last me all day till my return trip.

Inis Meáin was the first stop, though it was never announced and there was no sign at the dock. I asked one of the guys running the boat if it was “Inish Main”. He corrected me: “Innish Man”. He asked if this my first time there. I told him it was. He said, “Next time go to Inis Oírr [the third island]. It’s better.”

I had been warned that there might be people greeting the ferry at the pier looking to sell touristy trinkets. However, all I found were a few locals greeting others getting off the ferry. Hmm … the day was looking to be even more of an escape than I imagined.

So I followed the road from the pier, which went past an incredible number of plots of land enclosed by stone walls. Most just had grass in them, but a few had farm animals.

There wasn’t much signage, and what was there was only in Irish (per government policy in the Irish-speaking regions). Using my rudimentary Irish skills, I made out that there was a shop and a library. The shop, though, didn’t have much of anything in it. Once in a while you’d see a car, tractor, or, more likely a small motorcycle.

I continued walking with the goal of seeing the prehistoric fort at the top of the hill. I wandered around quite a bit but couldn’t figure out how to get to it by public right of way. I did, however, explore quite a few roads, from which I found some nice views and some more farm animals:

I passed a little museum in the house where John Millington Synge spent a few summers that was open in the off-season only by appointment. A mobile phone number was given to call in case you wanted to visit.

I saw a sign for “clochán” and decided there must be something worth seeing there. I followed it around a house, but it looked like I ended up in someone’s backyard. A guy working in his yard said, “Keep going”, so I followed some paths but wasn’t sure exactly what I was looking for. I tried going further up the hill to the fort, but I ended up in the plot of land adjacent to this:

so I decided to turn back.

I eventually ran into a mother and grown daughter, who came out for a day trip of their own. They spent the first part of the day looking for a public toilet (answer: there is none in the off season!). Since they both speak Irish and knew a bit about what to look for, we together found out how to the top of the fort.

We all went looking for “clochán” again and decided that this was probably it:

We returned to the road for some photos

and found a chatty old man stopped by on his scooter to talk:

(Once he found out the others spoke Irish, he switched to that.) He grew up on the island and left in his late teens to go work in Yorkshire. After a year of working there, he made enough money to build himself a house on the island. (His sister sold the family house, so he needed one of his own.) Even spent three years in America at one point.

He explained that the “clochán” is a prehistoric house. People would stay warm in the winter by putting hay in the doorway. He also told us how to get to Synge’s Chair and the cliffs beyond it.

Here’s Synge’s Chair, the place where he’d sit and do his writing:

beyond which was areas that had not yet been cleared of stones to build walls:

I guess the whole island used to look like that before they built the walls!

Beyond that, though, is something worth the whole journey:

They said what we found is more impressive than the Cliffs of Moher.

On the way back to the ferry terminal, we stopped by another store which the Irish women had found earlier in the day (when it was closed for lunch). The selection of goods was quite funny: lots of non-perishable goods, a freezer of ice cream, a very few pieces of produce in a refrigerator display case, and some movies available for rental.

See more photos of Inis Meáin.

This entry was posted on Sunday, April 25th, 2010 at 10:52 am and is filed under photos. Both comments and pings are currently closed.