Scott’s Spots: Lahinch

Set the Scene

On day three of the Irish Road Trip as detailed in the post Irish Dream, we descended upon Lahinch. It was everything you could ever ask for, and less: Nearly empty town. Rain. Extreme fatigue. No room at the inn (Translation: despite Sean and I being late to everything we have ever done, we managed to get to the hostel before our beds were available). Yep. Living the dream. For a visual representation of the mood for most of the group, please direct your attention here. Despite sleeping for parts of the car ride (a routine of mine), I caught a second wind when we arrived due to the way Lahinch captured my heart.

Our hero took in the misty cliffs overlooking the sea with awe. Not even gloomy weather and perpetual fog could dampen his fascination with this town.

The Corner Stone

After wandering for a bit, your intrepid travelers stumbled upon a pub called The Corner Stone. A haze of rain misted the streets as our hero’s posse settled into the cozy, empty pub.

While there, they played an Irish card game called 25 (similar to Euchre but with a thousand more rules) and downed some pints. Scott won, his name etched into the ceiling, town hall, and hearts of the people, for his heroics. Fantastic company, a come from behind victory in 25, delicious Pints, a bumping playlist on the radio in which our hero had no choice but to shazam every song, and Good conversation/bonding within the group. Boom goes the dynamite.

When the time came to check into the hostel and nap, the band of brothers left The Corner Stone in good spirits. A couple hours of rest later and they returned to The Corner Stone for dinner before a night out on the town. Your hero couldn’t get enough of this spot, and it didn’t take much convincing to get the gang back there again.

This afternoon in Cornerstone, intended only to pass time until we could check into our hostel and nap, was one of the highlights of my trip. I felt such contentment and inner peace. I felt truly happy. The rest of the road trip was dazzling, no doubt about it. It was delightful to get to take in the Dublin pub life, to party in Galway, and to make The Cliffs of Moher the backdrop to one of many Scott Kardel photoshoots. Despite the glitz and the glam in other spots of the trip, however, Lahinch charmed me like no other city in Ireland. With the exception of the glorious hour and a half of surfing I did in Lahinch the following morning, my time in that city is nothing special to read about–blissful, yet ordinary.

People travel the world for a plethora of reasons: wanderlust, adventure, a desire to see new places and gain new experiences are among them. Lahinch offers none of that. There is nothing particularly impressive or noteworthy or unique about it. You can go anywhere and you’ll find a Lahinch. You can go to any town and find a Corner Stone Pub. You can (and I think SHOULD if you have the means) travel far and wide to find adventure. But you can also wake up and find it every day no matter where you are. Lahinch was a reminder of that. It reminded me that for as spectacular and worthwhile as travel is, you don’t need to leave home to be happy.

With the right perspective, I think anything, and anywhere, can be an adventure. As expected, the “marquee” moments of my time in Ireland were awesome: Cliffs of Moher, the Guinness factory tour, the legendary Irish pubs, Galway, etc… All fantastic, and worth all the praise people give them. Being the social creature that I am, the very best thing about my time in Ireland was the people: Reuniting with Sean, meeting Martin, David, Jess, Evan, Mariah, and sharing it with Paul. I was quite sad to say goodbyes after my last night in Dublin. But in relation to the country itself, one of the best times in Ireland, for me, was the least extraordinary time. You can get on a plane to see the Cliffs of Moher and count on them to impress. And you should! I can’t recommend it enough. But between every Cliffs of Moher and Guinness factory tour, there is a Lahinch. If you find yourself in Ireland, I can’t recommend this hidden gem enough. Not because it is a tourist wonderland, but because it isn’t.

Our hero gazed out the window as Lahinch passed out of sight, making way for the green, hilly meadows of iconic Irish lore. So much was yet ahead of him, but he wouldn’t dare forget the small, unextraordinary surf town that charmed its way into his heart. Until next time.