It Took an Irish Rainstorm to Remind Me of the Kindness of Strangers

Why the Emerald Isle is still one of my favorite places I’ve ever been

When I talk to people about my travels, they often ask what my favorite country I’ve been to is — and my answer is usually Ireland. Sometimes this is followed by me laughing and saying, “Actually, I nearly died there. But I can’t wait to go back.” My friends then stare at me in disbelief, shocked that I would want to return to a country where I had not one but two life-threatening experiences.

In the spirit of total honesty, I didn’t actually almost die. That was only my perception at the time (as well as the perception of the friend I was traveling with). It’s a bit hard to explain without just telling the whole story, so here goes.

We flew from London to Shannon, Ireland, and took a cab to our bed & breakfast. We were immediately amazed by the incredible lushness of the countryside surrounding us, and I know it’s a little bit cliché to say this, but this month’s writing challenge is about green, so I’ll say it anyway — I had never experienced this much green before in my life. The pictures don’t do it justice (but I’ll include one below anyway).

That first day in Ireland went off without a hitch, and we had a fantastic meal at a local pub/restaurant (people really don’t talk about how good Irish food is enough). After a bit more sightseeing, we once again returned to our bed & breakfast, tired but happy.

The next day things took a turn for the worse. We had booked a tour to see the Cliffs of Moher from the nearest city (which wasn’t actually very near at all), Limerick. Since we hadn’t rented a car, we decided to take a bus to Limerick, which had a stop about forty-five minutes away by foot.

Unfortunately, it was raining pretty heavily. Undeterred, we set off at dawn…and were immediately attacked by the B&B’s guard dog. I love dogs, but this dog was not some friendly golden retriever. Actually, I’m not exactly sure what breed it was; we were too busy running away and screaming (quick PSA — that’s not what you should do if you’re attacked by a dog). The B&B owner ran out and restrained her dog, who was still trying to lunge and bite us as we cowered pathetically at the edge of the property. The B&B owner apologized profusely, and said that she hadn’t expected any of the guests to be up so early. We told her that it was fine, and we wouldn’t be going out so early the next day. As we walked away down the lane, we tried to shake it off. I remember laughing and saying something along the lines of, “well, let’s hope the rest of the day goes better.”

It didn’t. As we continued the trek, the rain went from moderate to pouring. By the time we got to the bus stop (a small sign on a pole in the middle of nowhere, not a building in sight), we were drenched despite our rain jackets and boots. Still, we’d found the right place with ten minutes to spare, and we were looking forward to our tour.

Ten minutes went by, and then fifteen. Our hearts sank. Was the bus just late? Our tour left from the meeting spot in Limerick at 8:30 sharp; we didn’t have tons of time to wait around here in the middle of the countryside. We certainly couldn’t wait an entire hour for the next bus to show up if this one wasn’t coming.

Feeling more and more hopeless, we discussed the possibility of getting a cab. It would be expensive, but not more expensive than losing the money we’d spent on the tour. We called a couple of cab companies, but only one answered, and they weren’t available. It was a Sunday, after all.

Next, we talked about just returning to our B&B, but the weather had turned even worse, and we weren’t entirely sure whether we’d make it back without getting hypothermia (plus, we were still scared of the dog). Then again, we might get hypothermia standing waiting for the bus too. We were stuck between a rock and a hard place.

A car drove past, then turned back and pulled up to us. The man driving asked if we were alright. “Isn’t there supposed to be a bus to Limerick that picks up here?” we asked. The man chuckled ruefully. “Yes,” he said, “there’s supposed to be. But it hardly ever comes.”

He paused for a moment, then offered something a bit unbelievable. “You’re getting soaked. Get in, I’ll give you a ride to Limerick.”

Immediately stranger danger warning bells went off in my head. But my friend climbed into the car, and against my better judgment I followed her.

As we began to drive even farther into the countryside, I started feeling even more panicky. We didn’t know where we were going — for all we knew, we could have been headed for some deserted barn-turned-murder den. The countryside was gorgeous and our driver kept up a pleasant stream of conversation, but I couldn’t enjoy either because of the crippling anxiety. I think we were only in the car for 30 minutes, but it felt like hours.

But the countryside started to be dotted with houses and other buildings again, and then finally we were in Limerick. The driver let us out in the center of town and wished us well on our journey. I tried to offer him gas money, but he refused. He said he’d done his “good deed for the day.”

As he drove off, I found myself staring after him, amazed at his generosity and kindness. Despite what we’re often taught, and what’s reported on in the news, there are some truly good people in the world (though I still wouldn’t recommend getting into a car with a stranger).

So the end of the story is a happy one. We made it to our tour, which was great (see photos below). For the rest of the trip we had both better weather and better luck with buses — though after talking to more locals who confirmed that the bus stop we’d tried to go to was at the best of times unreliable, we didn’t try that one again.

Going to the Cliffs of Moher made me realize even more why Ireland is referred to as the “Emerald Isle,” and as unpleasant as the rain had been, I found myself feeling grateful for it. After all, the rain is what allows Irish soil to be so fertile, resulting in that vibrant green (I feel like there’s a metaphor for life somewhere in there). Other places I’ve gone have had plenty of trees and vegetation, but often they’re a lighter, almost yellowy-green. Ireland was a deep, rich green.

So yes, despite everything (or maybe in part because of it?) Ireland is one of my favorite places in the world. I’m even considering moving there…we’ll see.

Thank you to Adrienne Beaumont for inspiring me to write about Ireland with her article All Things Green and Irish (and for making me want to try a literary pub crawl the next time I’m there!):

Additionally, I loved seeing Rhonda Carrier’s beautiful photos from Northern Ireland:

Also check out Scott-Ryan Abt’s story about his experience with green during a road trip around Tanzania:

And if you’d like to take part in the March Monthly Challenge too, here are the guidelines. I can’t wait to read more of your stories about Ireland and all things green!