My dream trip to Ireland ☘️
Letting go of inherited beliefs
I had wanted to visit Ireland for many years due to my interest in Irish authors and my love for the outdoors. Unlike most Americans, I rejected any notion that this would be a trip to “find my heritage”. Most of my relatives left Ireland in the 1880s. My great-grandparents on all sides were the first to be born in the US, most of them in Philadelphia, between 1897 and 1905. Thus, I had always identified my family culture with “Philadelphia” and not to any foreign country that my ancestors left over 100 years ago.
What I didn’t realize, though, was that I was looking for something on this trip. I wasn’t quite sure what, but I buckled up my seatbelt in our campervan and kept my eyes peeled.
Ireland far surpassed my expectations in terms of access to nature. Every day we ventured out into the countryside only to be met with pure awe. We cycled in Westport, surfed in Kiladoon, did beach yoga on Achill Island, and hiked miles along the coast. In the summer, the sun doesn’t set until 9:30 and it stays light out until 10 PM, so the days felt deliciously long. We spent the evenings after dinner walking the beach or listening to music at the local pub.
My favorite hike was Slieve League for its diverse landscape. We walked past sheep nestling their napping baby lambs along the cliffs, in wonder of the stark contrast of the wild ocean against the green cliffs. We walked past a lake perched by the edge of the sea, nature’s very own infinity pool, clouded under the misty morning. The fog cloaked the top of the mountain until we descended into the bog and listened to the tiny waterfalls trickling down the hill.
We also saw lots of wildlife! Waking up with the sheep in the morning was my favorite thing. They are such gentle animals. We also saw cows, a special Connemara pony, horses, birds and even puffins! The tour guides at The Cliffs of Moher let me borrow their binoculars so I could see the puffins, a sight way more spectacular than I imagined it to be.
Plus, the food in Ireland was delicious. We started with the staples: roast and potatoes, then slowly explored the nuances. I loved the wholesome brown bread and warm fruit scones with Irish butter. After rainy and windy days on the trail, a hearty bowl of soup filled me up: rich beef stew and caramelized onions, creamy celeriac soup, and my favorite, seafood chowder. This isn’t the the chowder we’re used to in Boston: it’s chunky lobster, shrimp, and white fish in a clear broth with little cream and lots of dill. We enjoyed delicious clams in lemon butter broth, oysters sucked down in salty brine water, and many pints of cold Guinness - a chocolate milkshake of beer. Our favorite dessert was berry cobbler with cream.
After a few days, I started experiencing flashes of familiarity. For example, sharing a beer and some Irish cheddar cheese on rye crackers with Mr. Brenna in the campervan reminded me of my family gatherings in Philadelphia. The sounds of the Irish flutes and whistles reminded me of playing my flute in the campus practice rooms at my Irish Catholic university with my best friend.
The Irish grandads I saw dressed like my grandparents - total gentlemen in plaid button-up shirts with sweaters overtop and slacks. The Claddagh Ring Museum in Galway instantly brought me back to middle school. I remembered the folded wool skirts of my Catholic school friends, twisting their rings and bragging about positioning their rings to show that they were single or taken. Once I stepped inside Morans Oyster Cottage in the countryside outside of Galway, I felt like I was in my grandmother’s house in Bucks County, Pennsylvania. Her crab dip tasted exactly the same, and her floral dishware and teacups were on display in vintage-painted wooden cupboards.
These glimmers of familiarity made me realize that although I don’t feel strongly connected to modern Irish culture, there will always be certain scenarios in which I feel comfortable because of the cultural norms. Unlike in Italy, where I’m grasping to make sense of things, at home, I know what to say at a funeral, what to serve at a cocktail party, and when to put on an extra coat. Beyond societal structures, I also feel most comfortable in the mindset I’ve inherited from my family.
I don’t think my grandparents ever dreamed I would be able to live in a foreign country or be able to take long trips abroad! Like most people my age, my grandparents focused on duty, sacrifice, and hard work1 to make things better for their children and grandchildren. This is a wonderful thing to have been modeled. Hard work and sacrifice have led me to some amazing places. As grateful as I am to have these morals, I struggle with self-trust, anxiety, and overworking. Is this what I should be doing? Or is this what I really want to do?
After a few days in Ireland, I realized what I was looking for on this trip: permission from my ancestors to relax. I don’t need to push myself to my outer limits in every job I have. I don’t need to overplan every decision, worried about the impact it will have on me down the line. I don’t need to fear the “worst possible scenario”. I can start thinking about what might go right in my life. I can believe that things always work out for me. I can start trusting myself and relaxing in my own decision-making. It can be easy.
When I was walking on top of the springy bogs and gazing upon the mass expanse of the ocean, I felt the need to lie on the ground and say “thank you” to my ancestors. Between the sharp blades of green grass and the soft peat of the bog, I felt supported. I heard the sound of the waves crashing thunderously below my feet. I listened to the birds, right above my head, and I let go of the desire to make anyone else proud except myself. It’s time to rest.
What about you? What are the narratives and mindsets that you have inherited from your family? How do you align with them, or not?
Creatives in Ireland
As we drove through each small town in Ireland and nestled into the pubs full of musicians, I found myself wondering how Ireland produces so many great artists on such a small island of about 5 million people. One theory is that Ireland has been through lots of struggles. Famine, immigration, fighting for its rights against Britain and subsequent independence, and lots of Catholic guilt make it easier to express oneself through art. Storytelling and music have also always been part of ancient Celtic culture.
I have always felt specifically drawn towards Irish writers. Below are some of my favorite books, all written by Irish authors (You can follow me on Goodreads, if you like).
Sally Rooney, Beautiful World Where Are You
John Boyle, The Heart’s Invisible Furies
Claire Keegan, Small Things Like These
Colm Tóibín, Long Island
Roddy Doyle, Smile
Colum McCann, Let the Great World Spin
Mary Costello, Barcelona
I also love Irish TV shows and movies, and have some new favorite Irish actors!
Derry Girls (takes place in Northern Ireland, in Derry, but I relate to the girls growing up in Catholic School)
Bad Sisters - Sharon Horgan and Daryl McCormack star in this show! Four sisters start joyfully dreaming of killing their brother-in-law because he’s abusive to their oldest sister. If you loved the song “Goodbye Earl” by the Dixie Chicks, you’ll love this show.
Normal People - when I fell in love with Paul Mescal. Read my review of the show here. Adapted from Sally Rooney’s book by the same name.
Brooklyn - when I fell in love with Saoirse Ronan. Adapted from Colm Tóibín’s novel by the same name.
Fleabag - features Irish actor Andrew Scott, aka “the hot priest” who is also in the new adaptation of Ripley!
Anything with Cillian Murphy - from Peaky Blinders to Inception, I love this actor.
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Both me and my family also benefit from white privilege.
What a beautiful story about your travels in Ireland, Brenna! I loved reading about my adopted country through your eyes.
I'd like to comment on one thing. You wrote "As we drove through each small town in Ireland and nestled into the pubs full of musicians, I found myself wondering how Ireland produces so many great artists on such a small island of about 5 million people."
In regard to music at least, I have observed that children naturally learn to play musical instruments and sing because their parents and grandparents do so as well. It's just a part of their culture. In the U.S. and Europe, playing and performing music has become something for experts whom we pay to perform for us. The thought that we ourselves can make and share music with our friends, communities and strangers has been lost.
This isn't true in Ireland. I have often seen people stand up in a pub and share a song or a story. Some are better than others, but this doesn't matter at all. It is the fact that they are willing to contribute to the community that matters.
I felt so choked up and homesick reading this, Brenna -- relating to your experiences, missing Ireland myself, and missing my mum, a transplant from Cork, who's in Australia where I grew up. It's such a specific point of reference to be somewhere that you feel a familial and heritage connection to and then it be deepened through culture and the specificity of place. So grateful for your vivid storytelling and observations here.