Ireland My Way

By Sharon Schultz

The first time I visited Ireland was in 2018. My brother and I landed at Dublin Airport and from there drove north, cut to the west, then traveled south on the Wild Atlantic Way. I fell in love with the rugged and raw natural beauty that is the West Coast of Ireland. I’d planned to go back the following year and explore the Wild Atlantic Way, maybe stay in a cottage in one of the remote villages by the sea, but that was the year that a pandemic changed everything, especially travel.

During the COVID years, I longed to return to Ireland and consoled myself with learning all I could about the country, including the language. The following year, the Irish Railroad Workers Museum in Baltimore offered Irish language courses taught by an Irish language instructor via weekly Zoom classes. I have been studying Irish for three years now.

Last year, during my online studies with Irish Language Learners, I learned of an award funded by Ireland’s Department of Tourism for American language students to attend summer language courses offered in one of the few Gaeltacht areas in Ireland where the old language is still spoken fluently. I checked into the award program, and discovered I was already semi-qualified. I met the rest of the requirements and in March 2024 I applied to attend a weeklong Irish summer course in June and July. I was granted the award! The course, accommodations, and travel expenses would be paid for! I registered for classes at Oideas Gael (http://www.oideasgael.ie/en/), the Irish Language Learning Center, in the tiny seaside village of Glean Cholm Cille (https://www.irishtourism.com/glencolumbcille), population 210, in Southwest County Donegal, Ireland.

Two of my Zoom classmates also registered for the summer language session and we became traveling companions and roommates during our stay in Ireland. Amelia Ditch and I traveled together from Dulles Airport to Dublin Airport where we met up with Kate Lee, our classmate from the UK. A three-hour bus ride took us to our first stop in Ireland, The Abbey Hotel in the heart of Donegal Town. We spent the night here and, the next morning, finished the last hour of our journey by bus from Donegal to Oideas Gael in Gleann Cholm Cille. 

The drive along the Irish Coast was filled with breathtaking views of the sea as we traveled along some of the highest elevations in Europe. Delightfully, the Oideas Gael campus was perched high atop one of those cliffs, affording students stunning views and the roar of ocean waves crashing on the beach.

Amelia, Kate, and I bid our bus driver farewell and checked in. Our accommodations for the coming week was a lovely cottage just beyond the village, that we shared with three other women attending the Irish cultural program. The cottage was set back in the hills with views of sheep grazing in fields and cliffs with waves crashing below. 

The Irish Summer Language Program began the night of our arrival in the village with an orientation held at the school. While there, students were placed in one of eight levels of instruction, based on their experience and fluency with Irish. Our daily class schedule was full. Morning sessions were from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m., then a lunch break. Afternoon classes were from 3 to 5 p.m., followed by a dinner break and an evening program from 8:30 to 10 p.m. that featured Irish musicians, poets, authors, and songwriters. It was a grueling schedule that involved a lot of learning, and a lot of walking. But so worth it!

The instruction was superb! Never have I seen more dedicated teachers so passionate about preserving the Irish language. Today Irish is spoken only in small, remote villages called Gaeltacht. Many Irish from my generation were taught the language in public schools, but if you don’t use it, you lose it, and they did. As an American student of Irish, hearing the language spoken every day in its native environment, both in school and in the village, was incredibly beneficial in helping me better understand and retain what I have learned and have yet to learn.

In addition to the wonderful staff at Oideas Gaul, the villagers and shop keepers in Gleann Cholm Cille were just as kind. We came to know them, to understand their wit as we frequented their establishments, settling into daily routines even if only temporary. Along the main road to this tiny, self-sufficient town, we found everything we would need. There was a market with every necessity imaginable, a mechanic and garage, a church, school, and graveyard, a gift shop, a coffee shop, a firehouse, a bus stop, and several pubs, where the music and Guinness flowed. We became a welcome part of the village during our stay.

On our final night at Oideas Gaul, we were the cultural program. Each class was asked to present a cultural performance in Irish before staff and fellow classmates. That evening there was music played, songs sung, and literary masterpieces read. The “G.O.A.T.” was had by all amid heartfelt farewells and promises for meetups next year.

Amelia, Kate and I set out early that last morning for Dublin Airport via bus. We would catch the bus in Gleann Cholm Cille and do the hour ride back to The Abbey Hotel in Donegal 

where we would catch another bus to the airport, three hours away. It was a simple reversal of our arrival path, yes? 

The public transit bus to Donegal would be waiting for us at 7 a.m., at the bottom of the hill, across the street from the corner pub. At 6:45, Amelia, Kate and I headed down hill with our luggage. The bus was waiting but when we showed our tickets, the driver said he wasn’t going to Donegal. That bus would be around shortly, not to worry, it’s all on” Irish” time, he told us. 

The bus to Dublin arrived. We stowed our luggage underneath and climbed aboard. The bus driver informed us that he had an unscheduled stop to pick up a passenger before we went to Donegal and, would we mind? He promised us we would arrive in plenty of time – “Irish” time – to make our bus connection at The Abbey Hotel, and off we went.

The scenic bus ride to the seaport village of Killybegs and back was well worth the detour, and no harm done, we all agreed. But then the bus stopped to let off the passenger right where we had started, across the street from the pub on the corner! 

            The driver got out of the bus and started tinkering with something under the hood. A man drove up, got out, and he started banging under the hood. Our driver told us the bus had broken down and this man was taking him to get another one! Off they went, and so did Amelia and Kate – back to the cottage for an unscheduled visit – while I remained on the bus minding it and our luggage. 

               Not surprisingly, we missed the bus from Donegal to Dublin. Our bus driver told us that we were on “Irish” Time and that it was all right, another bus would be along soon enough. He wasn’t wrong.

                This trip to Ireland was illuminating on so many levels. I feel more confident in learning Irish. My goal is to speak, read, and write Irish fluently. Even after three years of study, the summer program gave me a greater understanding of this beautiful, ancient language. It also fulfilled my bucket list item, to live in a small Irish village by the sea.

Sharon Schultz is a retired freelance photojournalist and proud Bay Boomer.