Every city and county in Ireland has a nickname. For example, Armagh is called the Cathedral County, while people from Carlow are the Fighting Cocks, from Cork (from whence we Mahonys originate) are the Donkey Eaters, and those from Donegal are the Herring Gutters. The more contemporary nicknames are not as creative, but perhaps clearer. Dublin is the Big City, Limerick is Stab City, and Galway is Party City. This weekend, I went to Galway. I took the bus out with my lovely housemate Caitie on Saturday morning. We found an art store, and yarn and food and buskers galore. She went back on the bus that evening, and I stayed overnight in a hostel just off of Eyre Square. It was super fun, and I met a whole load of Canadians, and befriended a backpacking physics major from Germany named Tobias. The rest of the housemates joined us on Sunday afternoon, and we all walked around exploring together before sharing a cab back to Ballyvaughan that evening. We brought Tobi back with us so he could see more of the countryside (instead of just the big cities with train stations) and now he is camping in our yard. Galway was fantastic - almost all the central streets are foot traffic only (Fußgängerzone, my new favorite word in German). The following photo is directed at Kent Van Note, and is unfortunately NOT the hostel I stayed in because it was full. But I almost stayed there, so... good enough.
What they don't tell you, is that when they say "Party City" they mean specifically bachelorette parties. Here they call them "Hen nights" and Galway is apparently the one single destination for every girl ever about to get married, ever, to get ridiculously drunk and embarrass herself and her future children. Literally the entire city was swarming with herds of women dressed in ridiculous costumes, sashes, tiaras, glitter, and cowboy hats. Every fifth female you saw was wearing a banner reading "BRIDE" with the other four masking their resentment with a maniacal will to be celebratory. The ladies weren't the only ones partaking in the shit show that weekend - we went for pints on Saturday, and grabbed a table at the top of the stairs. We were about halfway through our respective Guinnesses, when a young man sprinted up the steps, promptly vomited all over the floor, and proceeded to fall down in it. Needless to say, we relocated. Excitement!!
What they don't tell you, is that when they say "Party City" they mean specifically bachelorette parties. Here they call them "Hen nights" and Galway is apparently the one single destination for every girl ever about to get married, ever, to get ridiculously drunk and embarrass herself and her future children. Literally the entire city was swarming with herds of women dressed in ridiculous costumes, sashes, tiaras, glitter, and cowboy hats. Every fifth female you saw was wearing a banner reading "BRIDE" with the other four masking their resentment with a maniacal will to be celebratory. The ladies weren't the only ones partaking in the shit show that weekend - we went for pints on Saturday, and grabbed a table at the top of the stairs. We were about halfway through our respective Guinnesses, when a young man sprinted up the steps, promptly vomited all over the floor, and proceeded to fall down in it. Needless to say, we relocated. Excitement!!
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