I have a love/hate relationship with most social media. When I first signed in to Facebook all those years ago, I thought it was fun to connect with old friends from long ago. It answered the occasional question bouncing around my head - “I wonder what he/she is up to these days?” Then there were the connections to people I’ve never met but have seen me on QVC. Much of it has been fun. However, there is also the seedy underbelly of the social world loaded with conspiracy theories (“here’s the one thing they don’t want you to know”), bullying, and angry keyboard warriors taking out their own frustrations with life on somebody else. When I spend too much time online, I can feel my anxiety start to rise, so I try to limit my time on these sites as best I can.
But when it came time to gear up for a recent trip to Ireland, Instagram became my new best friend. The trip was a getaway for my wife and me. Both of our daughters would be out of town on their own adventures and we have an Irish friend who sent an invite our way. We made a similar trip 18 years ago, and stayed at this tucked away oasis in the southwest corner of County Cork. On that adventure, we stayed with our Irish friend Amanda and her husband Bill, and all of our excursions were based on their tips and my ability to navigate an Irish road map. It was great fun as we cruised through rolling hills of never ending green not quite knowing where we were going or if we ever actually arrived in the right place.
This time around, I decided to incorporate a slight level of strategy, and in the weeks before we left, I stumbled upon some Irish themed Instagram pages with things to see and do on the Emerald Isle. They were glorious. Now, before I go any further, let me explain a bit about my idea of a great vacation, because it might differ from what you are looking for. I’m not a sit in the sun with a boat drink in my hand kind of guy. First off, I’m pretty pale, so more than 30 straight minutes in the hot sun means I’m in trouble. If I’ve got my shirt off, I look like a walking stick of chalk, and that blazing sun unleashes it’s fury upon me. My Irish and Slavic ancestors were not people who tanned. Neither am I. Secondly, sitting in a chair all day long might be relaxing for some. For me, I get bored. Let’s go do something.
I also don’t want to get roped into the tour guide led sightseeing tour where I’m in a massive pack of people checking off a list of the things that I’m supposed to see. Don’t get me wrong, when I’m in Paris I’ll glance up and see the Eiffel Tower. If I ever get to Rome, I’m sure I’ll stroll past the Coliseum, but I want to move. I want to do things. I want to get lost and explore. For me, that’s where the fun is. The closest “touristy” thing I did in Ireland was done on my final morning there. Our hotel was 2 blocks from Trinity College in Dublin, so I thought maybe I’d check out the Book of Kells. The pictures looked pretty cool, but when we got there, nah. The college quad was packed with tourists standing in line with their mandatory QR codes waiting to be scanned for the next tour that was starting in 20 minutes. My wife and I strolled right by.
So what did we do instead? I’m glad you asked (ok, you didn’t, but I’m writing this thing and that’s where we’re going).
Thanks to Instagram, I found a tiny coffee shop called Cafe na tra that looks out over the coast of the Dingle peninsula in a town called Dunquin. The directions are pretty simple. Drive to what feels like the end of the earth, then go a little further. After you pass the 37th sheep you see, turn left and you’re there. On a beautiful late morning I had coffee and a strawberry crumble. My wife grabbed a latte with a scone. Serenity swept over us. Then, I grabbed this great pic of a little bird who thought he’d like to share some of my snack. My wife and I were 2 of about dozen people at this coffee house in the middle of nowhere. We were well out numbered by the sheep and of course these little birds. It was great.
A few days later, we were in the port town of Kinsale walking through these fairytale looking streets. It felt like we were in a Dr. Seuss book, and the local food was magnificent.
Then it was into the Avondale Forest in County Wicklow where we scaled the Treetop Walk and rode a pretty awesome slide all the way down.
Finally, the road trip landed us in Dublin with a swim in the frigid Irish Sea at an area called the Forty Foot. A local guy in a wetsuit insisted I’d feel great after I made it through the first 30 seconds in these chilly waters. Well, I made it through those 30 seconds, but I suspect he was much warmer than me. He was the one in the wetsuit. I wasn’t, but it was still a good dip.
There were some other great moments that were just spontaneous with no credit given to those fun videos I found on Instagram. I watched a Gaelic football match on the tv in a pub. I have no idea what the rules are, but it was a good time. My wife and I momentarily crashed a hen/bachelorette party in Kilkenny. We watched fireworks explode over Kilkea castle as we stood on the fringe of a wedding reception, and we met a County Cork man walking his cows across a winding rural road. I could understand about 2 out of every 5 words he spoke, but we smiled and laughed like old friends.
It was a glorious time in one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen, and I thank Instagram for helping me find a few wonderful little treasures I would have otherwise missed. So if you’re looking to explore the unknown, social media is a great place to get those ideas percolating, and may the road rise up to meet you. May the wind be always be at your back, and may the sun shine warm upon your face. Slainte