7 giorni di pieno sole

Departure from Forlì airport with a 5-minute delay. Thanks to the Ryan booking with immediate boarding, we manage to sit near the window, and during the flight we glimpse the unmistakable shape of Venice, the Alps, the cliffs of Dover, and the Irish meadows around Dublin. A smooth landing; after picking up the suitcases we head to the Hertz counter to pick up the car. From there they point us to a shuttle that takes us to the depot in 5 minutes. Once the formalities are done, they hand us the keys to a very spacious black Ford Focus. After the usual checks, Francesco gets in the car and starts driving: "Ahhh it's all reversed… ah no, the pedals are the same… first gear is the same that way, then the turn signals, ah no, those are the wipers… and the turn signals??? Ok, calm down. How funny, there are stickers reminding you to drive on the left. Good, I've got it.

Let's put it in reverse and… TONK the first of many head bumps against the window." We merge into Dublin traffic and, following the other cars, driving turns out to be calmer than we thought. We stop for lunch at a kind of highway rest stop, then set off again towards Kilkenny. After leaving the M50, the traffic becomes much lighter and the scenery improves considerably; a succession of green meadows with horses, a few sheep, but above all cows. At 5:00 pm we arrive in Kilkenny and, with broken English, we manage to book our first night in a B&B. After a nice shower we go out to visit the town. From the B&B, in two minutes we find ourselves strolling in the splendid Castle park. An enormous public park, full of people enjoying the beautiful spring day.

Lots of kids playing hurling, according to Erika, but couldn't they just take a ball and kick it around a bit? The town center is really lively; along the main streets there are various shops (especially pubs…) all painted in different colors: a real spectacle. At 7:30, driven by hunger, we go into a place and order an Irish stew and a very good pint of Kilkenny. Once full, we wander around the town a bit more, then decide to go into a pub. We cross the threshold of Kyteler's Inn and finally realize we are truly in Ireland. We sit down to listen to real traditional Irish music, sipping the foam of a creamy Guinness, captivated by the atmosphere. Only the next day did we discover that the pub was built on what is believed to be the house of the witch Kyteler… our first day on the green island couldn't have been more Irish than that.

We wake up in the morning well rested, and as soon as we open the room door we are overwhelmed by the unmistakable aroma of sausage. We look at each other worried: the night before, caught up in the atmosphere, we had ordered the FULL IRISH BREAKFAST from the landlady. Once downstairs, we eat everything the lady offers us. Over the following days we would discover that such an abundant breakfast allows us to have lunch very late in the afternoon. We dedicate the morning to visiting Kilkenny. St. Canice's Cathedral is the most spectacular we will visit on our trip. Entirely built of gray stone, it is surrounded by a veritable cemetery with the graves of all the most important people of Kilkenny as well as the various prelates who succeeded one another over the years. We go in (paying, since it's an Anglican church).

Inside, the spectacle is provided by brightly colored stained-glass windows, a just-restored wooden organ, and Kyteler's slab… imagine that. The visit continues with the Catholic churches: St. Mary Cathedral, imposing from the outside, and the Black Abbey, as black outside as the interior atmosphere is purple, thanks to two beautiful stained-glass windows. At 11:30 we stock up at the DUNNES Store (open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week… now that's what you call efficiency!) and then set off again towards the west…. TONK, damn window, I'll learn to turn my head the other way to reverse. We plunge again into the greenery; helped by the map and a good sense of direction, we avoid the bigger roads and stay on secondary roads, so we can stop constantly to admire the scenery. At 3 pm our stomach demands attention and we stop for a break in Ballina on Lough Derg.

An enchanting place where we discover that if you ask for a coffee in Ireland they bring you a big soup bowl of dirty water and a little jug of milk for the modest price of 2.30 each… Argh. We drive north along part of Lough Derg, then head determinedly west, and around 5 pm we finally spot the ocean. We decide to stop and look for lodging in Liscannor, a little village of four or five houses, with a pub, a luxury hotel, but above all the Carrig House B&B of Shirley and Maurice Glennon (if you ever happen to need to stop for the night in that area, go there). A quick shower and then to the pub to eat fish&chips and drink Guinness. Here they don't play music, so after eating we go out to walk along the coast and savor the air rising from the ocean.

We go back to the room to watch the sunset go down, and by evening outside it's pitch dark, then a fog like we'd never seen isolates us from the world…

Wake up, breakfast with eggs and salmon, view of the Cliffs of Moher. We pack up our weapons and baggage but not the adapter, which will stay there in Liscannor, like our heart… we head towards the cliffs. Parking 8 euros, ugh… but the beautiful day and the spectacle of the Cliffs are worth every cent. Photos are never enough, and despite the barriers preventing us from getting close to the precipice, we still manage to find a gap and, like all the tourists there, we take the opportunity to fully savor the thrill of that plunge into the ocean. At noon we move away from the Cliffs and race north along the Atlantic. It takes us more than three hours to cover the 80 km from the Cliffs to Ballyvaughan. Every place is worthy of a photo stop; the view of the Burren, a rocky plateau that plunges into the sea after 2 days of nothing but green meadows, takes our breath away.

In Ballyvaughan we have lunch with the usual sandwich, and not content, we go into a pub and order 2 more coffees (ugh… 5 euros this time!). At 3:30 pm we set off again towards Galway, but after two days of tranquility, the impact with a crowded, traffic-filled city, as well as the unexpected heat (27°C), is not the best. Anxious, we cross all of Galway and decide to continue in search of a B&B for the night. In the end we stop in Barna. What seemed like an unfortunate choice turns out to be quite good on the whole. The B&B is nice and the hospitality excellent as always. In the evening we have dinner in the hotel restaurant with some delicious smoked salmon on brown bread and a pint of Guinness to wash it all down. After dinner we stay at the port admiring the sunset in the company of a fishing boat that has just come in.

Given the beautiful day that lies ahead, after the usual abundant breakfast we quickly head to Rossaveel to catch the ferry to the largest of the Aran Islands. Once there, on two bikes, we begin our tour of the island… we start slowly to let the crowd of tourists go ahead so we can enjoy the tranquility of those places. At a certain point Erika, caught up in the excitement, shoots down a path determined to go dip her feet in the waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Never was a choice more spot-on; we find ourselves on a small beach all to ourselves where we can fully enjoy the cold ocean. Part of that beach came home with us, a beautiful memory of our trip. Pedaling and pedaling, we ride along a good part of the island until we reach the fort of Dun Aonghasa. If the Cliffs had enraptured us, this place is simply breathtaking.

As good Italian tourists, we even manage to get scolded by an inspector who appeared out of nowhere and politely invited us to get down from the walls we had climbed to take photos… Back at the entrance we gobbled down a slice of chocolate cake, a sugar boost to face the trek back to the port. In the end we arrive exhausted, but the bike tour of the island is something you absolutely must try; we do not recommend the minibuses instead (there are tons of them waiting for the tourists disembarking from the ferry). They drive at insane speeds along these little roads and I don't think you can fully enjoy the views the island offers. At 5:00 pm we take the last ferry, after having tried in vain to have a conversation with the crew of a fishing boat that had just come in (we didn't understand a word of what they said but we kept nodding happily…) and we return to Rossaveel.

Once back in the car, for the first time we find ourselves in difficulty. In this part of Ireland they don't know what English is and all the signs are written in Gaelic (damn it…) and so, exhausted from the effort, we reach a tiny village in the middle of nowhere and stop at what is more a mini-hotel than a B&B. We have dinner at a fast-food place where hygiene was not contemplated, we drink a pint of Guinness in the only pub in the village among men intent on watching the Champions League final, and in the end we take refuge in our room to plan the next day's itinerary.

After the usual abundant breakfast we set off towards Clifden and Connemara. We drive along the coast again and the scenery is never the same. We stop in Roundstone for a break. We set off again, but once again the beautiful day and the sea at hand make us want too much. We stop at the edge of a small white beach and dip our feet in the ocean once more: a sublime sensation.. At 1 pm we arrive in Clifden and, after a quick visit to the church, we drop our bags at a B&B in the center and, on Jim's recommendation, continue our tour along the Sky Road, then reach Kylemore Abbey and return through the valley of the Twelve Pines. The Sky Road is another place with breathtaking scenery, the fitting farewell that the ocean wanted to give us.

We then dive into Connemara and reach Kylemore Abbey, a enchanted and spellbinding place (but these nuns want a bit too much money…) The return journey through the meadows gives us unexpected encounters with sheep walking calmly in the middle of the road. Another enchanted glimpse of this Ireland that every day has amazed us and given us ever-new emotions. In the evening, convinced by now that we had figured everything out, we go into a restaurant and order two starters thinking they'll be enough… the upshot was a big rip-off for two simple appetizers… saddened, at 8:30 we find refuge in a pub that, just before closing the kitchen, offers us two plates of delicious fish and chips. Reassured, we go out and enter another pub that had caught our attention with a sign saying live music, and what had started badly becomes one of the best evenings spent in Ireland.

Sipping a true Irish coffee served to us with a broad smile, we listen once again to traditional music while a local guy improvises as a dancer…

We enjoy our last Irish breakfast and at nine we're in the car heading to Dublin: time available 4 hours + 30 minutes of grace… One last coast-to-coast run through the green. At 12:30 we're in the Dublin area and when we're by now sure we'll reach Hertz on time, we find ourselves stuck due to roadworks on the M50. We hand over the car at 2:15 pm but a very kind Hertz attendant changes the drop-off time and everything is fine again… We sadly say goodbye, with a few tears, to our dear Ford Focus that carried us for 960 km along the roads of our first Irish vacation. Back at the airport, a new courtesy bus takes us to the Bewleys Hotel. After messing up the room and resting, thanks to public transport we find ourselves catapulted onto the crowded O'Connell Street.

As good tourists, map in hand, we do a first loop: along the Liffey to the Half Penny Bridge and back through the trendiest neighborhoods. In the end, tired and hungry, we ring our friend Ronald's bell (I'm loving it!). It's 6 pm and this is our lunch. We wander a bit more and finally around 9:00 pm we go into a pub and order a portion of smoked salmon accompanied by the spiciest plate of nachos in the world… thank goodness Guinness exists…. Exhausted, we go back to the hotel.

We go down to O'Connell Street and go into a bar for breakfast… Once again we are stunned. They don't prepare the Irish breakfast just for us poor tourists who want to experience the Ireland we imagined… they eat eggs, bacon, sausages, beans for breakfast every day… Totally dazed in what is a veritable canteen, we just get a couple of coffees and two muffins. The city tour continues with St. Patrick's Cathedral. Beautiful outside, as disappointing inside. The next stop is the Guinness Storehouse, for a Guinness lover an unmissable destination. After going around every corner of the museum and discovering every secret of producing Ireland's national drink, we down two pints of Guinness and spend almost an hour in the shop. We quickly pass by the Jameson Distillery, by now too late for a visit, and lose another hour in an Irish souvenir shop.

After so much walking we go back to the pub from the previous evening and for the first time we try a good soup of the day. While we are busy finishing the postcards to send, Erika foils at the last second an attempt to steal her purse containing all the documents and a good part of our money. The man sitting next to us had carelessly stretched his hand as far as our chairs, covering it with his coat. To our shouts he responds with a "sorry" and walks off… Our vacation saved, we head to a fitting conclusion with a long walk along Temple Street. In those final hours we find again the Ireland that had somewhat abandoned us upon our return to Dublin. The bands playing along the street and the noise spilling out of the pubs fill our hearts. Naturally, our last Guinness could only be drunk at the Temple Bar. Sadly, we get back on the bus and return to the hotel.

We spend the wait for our departure writing postcards and finishing our little notebook of memories. At 6:10 sharp, Ryan Air flight 9456 lifts off from Irish soil and even the sky is sad; so many little droplets fall, reminding us that Ireland gave us 6 days of full sunshine and leaving us with a big question… but where was the rain?