The population of Galway is about 100,000 and Galwegians proudly say it is the third largest city in Ireland. Those in other towns dispute this. However, the downtown area is alive with people no matter what time of day so it did seem like a busy European city. Calgary could learn something from this.
I wandered along the River Corrib above the weir and discovered what I believe may have been part the original walls of city, built in the 1600's. As I fiddled with my camera to change my lenses, a squall blew up and lashed against me. I took shelter behind this wall now covered with trees and moss. A few minutes later, the sun shone again. I decided the weather was much like Calgary's, wait five minutes and it will change.
Not able to cross the weir (obviously deemed too dangerous for the public), I returned to the Salmon Weir Bridge that leads to the Cathedral. I had spotted some gardens next to the river which I wanted to see but these were also closed to the public. An old white house stood beside the weir so I made my way to that. Turns out the Ministry of Fisheries owned the building and again public were not welcome.
Retracing my steps, I discovered a stone structure with a plaque sitting in the middle of a small field (Fisheries Field on the grounds of the National University of Ireland). It turned out to be a lime kiln (heat turns limestone into quicklime) used in 1820 (during an outbreak of cholera) to build a hospital and make the whitewash used to sanitize its walls.
My next destination was the monument to Christopher Columbus which I'd read was near the waterfront. Turns out I had passed it the day before but it was such an insignificant marking I'd missed it. I then walked under the Spanish Arch on my way to the Galway's modern harbour. The wall was originally part of the city's fortifications but in the 18th century, when the Long Walk was built, arches allowed people to move along the waterfront. Glen ate in the tiny restaurant near the arch but since they didn't serve Guinness, we never returned.
The Long Walk isn't that long and I have since learned that what I thought was the old harbour is actually the River Corrib. I guess if I'd tasted the water, I might have known but the obvious tide threw me off. After watching longshoremen load scrap metal onto a ship, I made my way back into town passing a tiny restaurant called McGinns on the Quays which looked inviting. The 19th century building was the birthplace of Padraig O'Conaire who wrote about Irish emigrants living in England.
It was noon when I reached the hotel. By one o'clock there was still no sign of Glen so I texted him. Turned out, the group had planned to work until at least 2:00 but either he had forgotten to tell me or I hadn't heard him. He said I could eat their leftover sandwiches but I thought that a bit crass so again had soup and a sandwich in the hotel restaurant.
When Glen's session was over, we walked along an arm of the sea which flowed passed the hotel called Lough Atalia (lough being Gaelic for lake). Partway down the walkway, we came to a white cement structure on the shore. Turns out it was a holy well associated with the Augustinians and its waters cured ear and eye infections. We had neither so didn't try the water bubbling from the ground from the well and flowing into the sea.
Following a circuitous route, we wound our way back to the town's centre passing a greyhound racetrack and city hall. Glen had only seen the square at night and I only in the rain so we enjoyed it together. We then wandered the downtown eventually coming to St. Nicholas church. We went inside and saw the ancient tombs set in the floor, some crusading knights from the 12th or 13th century. Outside the church was a wall where, in 1493, a the mayor took justice into his own hands and hanged his son for murdering a visitor. His name? James Lynch Fitzstephen. Galway claims this is the source of the term, lynching, but most attribute it to an American Revolutionary called Charles Lynch who mete out justice against British Loyalists.
We returned to the hotel so Glen could check his email and debated staying there for supper until I mentioned McGuinns. The gregarious owner welcomed us warmly. We found that most in Ireland think we're American. He was no exception but he knew enough about Canada to make us feel at home. We ordered a bowl of Galway Bay mussels to start and ate them as the natives do, without a fork. The finger bowl with a slice of lemon was a nice touch but I kept thinking of the movie Shrek 2 where Shrek thinks the finger bowl is soup. It made me giggle. Tuesday's special was a fillet of hake and if you bought one entree, the second was free. Neither Glen nor I knew what hake was but it turned out to be delicious and tasted much like cod (it's from the same family). We washed it down with a couple of pints of Guinness then Glen had a meringue dessert while I drank a very stiff Irish coffee. How cliché, eh?
Comments for this post
