Final Reflections of Dingle Way
We were only on the Dingle Peninsula for 8 days, but when we took the bus back to Shannon Airport it felt like we were leaving roots behind. At the Boston Airport, we were immediately barraged by news coverage of the 2016 presidential campaign. Eric and I’s instincts were screaming at us to “go back!”
By the end of our vacations we’re usually ready to go home. But this trip was different. It was the longest vacation we had ever taken and it was in a place far removed from our home and workplace. We had very little exposure to the outside world (no TV, little internet) and the bulk of our trip was spent outdoors in remote locations. The people of Dingle ran the gamut of jolly, content and cantankerous — but they all seemed to have a peace about them…a sense that they were happy with their place in life.
Transitioning from this to our busy, consumer-driven American life was like stepping out of a paradise directly into a war zone. I was shell-shocked.
But by far the most life-changing part of the trip was the TYPE of travel. Relying solely on our feet to take us from destination to destination was such a wonderful way to experience another place. The itinerary showcased the best landscapes and town life, and the inns were all unique and charming. We felt like pilgrims, not tourists, and there is a BIG difference between the two.
A pilgrim concerns themselves with the journey, while the tourist concerns themselves with the sights and experiences.
I’ve always known I didn’t like high tourist destinations, but I never knew how much I could enjoy entire days of seeing absolutely nothing that would be covered in a travel guide. I mean come on, no one would buy copies of Fodor’s if their top suggestions were walking through pastures with sheep and small towns with limited dining and potty options. But when you remove the touristy sights, you’re left with the “normal” and that’s when you feel like a local. And THAT kind of travel is my drug of choice — I simply can’t get enough.
