2026 Summer travels — The Ireland Update

Dear friends, 

This (extended) message was started a few days back from my dorm room at Trinity College in Dublin, Ireland. If you do not have the time or want for the full update, know that I am now safe and sound back in Minneapolis! 

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Though I was in Ireland for only a short while, the stories and experiences I have had there are enough to fill (several) books. But first, let's backtrack to my last update, back to when I was writing you from London only seven days ago!

After I left the war museum, I went back to my London apartment and got packed. I have the layout of my bag down to a science, with little room for error. Once most everything was tucked into place, I dressed in my only clean(ish) dress and went out on the town for my last night in the UK. I saw Six the Musical, and I had a rockin’ time. Six is great because it is so short. The curtain rose at 8:00 p.m., and I was en route back to my flat by 9:10, mindful of my early morning the next day. 

Saturday was a long day of transit. Two trains to get to Heathrow terminal 2. A short flight to Shannon Airport. A long (long) line at the car rental desk. With shaking hands, I made my way to the lot, where I was pleasantly surprised to find that driving felt fine. Truthfully, I think I had a harder time adjusting to driving on the right side of the road again after getting home from New Zealand last summer than I did getting (re)acquainted with the left this go-around. 

It was a two-hour drive to Killarney. The weather was a bit damp perhaps, and the roads got increasingly narrow the farther I got from the airport. And so by the time I got to town, I was very tired (and hungry, and grumpy). The hotel was on the main street, which would have been very cool, if only I could find a place to park my car. And for a few terrifying moments, I thought I was going to have to try to parallel park my rental. Thankfully, it only took two calls to the front desk to find out there was a lot behind the hotel — it was just hidden in a maze of alleyways. 

My time in Killarney, and thus my time feeling overwhelmed by the city streets, was only brief. I woke up the next morning, left my things at the front desk, and caught a bus a short distance to the Gap of Dunloe for a day hike. It was about seven miles through the pass, followed by a two-hour boat ride back. The best way to fix a bad attitude is to get outside, I find, and it was a breathtaking adventure. One made all the more exciting by a time crunch. There was a football match on, and thus the bus and boat operators gave us less time than usual to get back to the meeting points. It turned a leisurely stroll into a bit of a workout. My tour group all arrived at the boats sweaty and out of breath! 

And we had the best boat driver! He told us all about the game — a championship between local legends Kerry and down-on-their-luck Mayo. The last time that Mayo won this title was back in 1951, when celebrations became rambunctious and disrupted a nearby funeral service. A local priest cursed the team for this behaviour, declaring that they could not win another championship title while any of the current squad lived. The final member of the 1951 team passed away this year, thus lifting the curse. Mayo finally won the All-Ireland Senior Football Championships once more.

And once I was back on the road, I learned to be grateful for the game. I was driving about 1.5 hours south next, and I mean it when I say there was no other traffic out and about. None. I made it safely and stress-free to my accommodation on the cliffs of Portmagee. 

This hotel might have been a bit of a splurge. But when in my life am I going to be back in Portmagee, Ireland? It was another tiny home (referred to as a “pod”). It had a full kitchen and a cosy bed. It had a nice shower and a lovely garden. But the best part, and the reason I chose it to begin with, was the view. The front wall overlooking the cliffs was one large window. From the bed and from the couch, you could stare directly over a steep drop and directly out at the fierce sea. All night long you could hear the waves crashing. It's a fantasy lover’s dream. 

The purpose of my being in Portmagee was a boat ride with landing on Skellig Michael, an island about an hour away by sea. Landing at Skellig is notoriously difficult and dangerous, however. Around a third of tours are canceled or changed at the last moment to an “eco-cruise” around the island. I spent all night awake and anxious about my odds. 

I dressed on Monday in rain gear and a warm sweater. About ten minutes before I was due to leave for the pier, I got an email saying that my tour had been delayed an hour. It was good news — the fact that it was not canceled outright meant that the skippers still had hopes for later in the morning. I arrived at the pier to find a large group of tourists, all dressed in rain gear like myself, waiting anxiously. We talked nervously and played on our phones. 

Some folks had knee wraps on, others brought walking sticks. Everyone had serious hiking boots — it seems we all got the same email. Skellig is one of those far-fetched bucket-list destinations. It is a sight that is somehow worth climbing more than 600 stairs for. One where there are no handrails or safety features. Thus, preparation is key. Physical fitness, proper gear. For myself, I held my blood thinner the night before in anticipation of a fall.* I brought my knee brace for the way down, and packed a lot of sweets as motivation for dealing with the terrifying heights. 

At 10:00 a.m. there was still no green light from the crews at the island. And because it is so far away, the tour company decided to put us all on a boat and see what the water looked like when we got there. The boat ride was no laughing matter. There were twelve seats on the back of a midsize vessel. We were given heavy rain ponchos (mine with a broken zip) but no life preservers. I have no pictures from the boat; my hands were preoccupied clinging to the bar under my seat. 

The water was choppy. The whole boat rocked and swayed. I can feel the waves again now, writing this. It was an unforgiving environment, yet there was also so much life! We saw many, many birds, and I even caught a few glimpses of dolphins leaping from the water as we approached the island, still without word whether we were landing or not. 

When the skipper stepped out to toss the buoys, my heart leapt from my chest. As I stood up to disembark, the not-so-helpful man I had been sitting next to remarked with a grin, "Careful, this is where the fatalities happen." I glared in response, far too nauseated for his dad joke. The boat pulled up to a steep, rocky outcrop lined with a narrow set of stairs. There was a handrail on the other side—a very far reach from where we stepped off. I imagined that it would not be all that difficult to miss the steps altogether and end up crushed between the railing and the rock. 

The skipper was the next to speak, "wait for me to give the word, then quickly step across."And then it was my turn, and then I was on the island. And suddenly the place I had dreamed and read about was under my feet. And wouldn't you know it, the first place my legs brought me was the latrines. 

After a bathroom interlude, it was time for the safety briefing. 618 stairs up, no handrail. Remember to watch where you step, stones may be loose. If you are tired, take a break. Keep your phone and other distractions put away. Remember that you have to come down the way you came, and that because of the heights this can take much longer. If you reach the top, please no picnics in the monastery, it's disrespectful.

Oh right, I have not told you the best part. Because at the top of this staircase, into the clouds and into the mist, there is a monastery that dates back to the 6th century. Monks used to live and work on this island, used as a remote place for meditation, prayer, and transcription. Now, in 2026, it is taxing and dangerous to get to even with motor boats and life vests, yet the monks used to row for six to eight hours each way. There was no ‘nice’ staircase for them to ascend, and all of the stonework was done by hand. 

And in addition to the monastery, please mind the grass – it is where the puffins nest. Puffins everywhere. They flock to Skellig between late March and early August to mate. Each puffin returns to the same nest with the same partner. Once a year. And to think I got to be a witness. Then, in recent times, think Star Wars, think Skywalker. (And yes, I had a few productive conversations about filming for my larger research projects!)

So after a long boat ride back to Portmagee, I disembarked and staggered my way back to my pod. I was so tired and seasick that I could hardly walk in a straight line. I took a nice long, hot shower and crawled into bed. Where I stayed, still rocking with the waves, until the next morning. 

I took my time packing and loading the car. I slept terribly despite my luxury accommodation, my flight to Dublin did not leave from Kerry Airport until 6:55 p.m., and it was only about an hour-and-a-half drive. I stopped along the way at Cronin’s Loop, a 7-km hike. It was my last few hours outside in nature for this trip, and it far exceeded my expectations. Fantastic views of Ireland's highest mountain, Carrauntoohil, without the pesky mountain roads.  

I went around the loop and back with no issues, and got the car filled and returned to Enterprise. I arrived in Dublin via plane at 8:00 p.m., found dinner, and went to bed in my dorm at Trinity College. 

I only had two days in Dublin, and by this point I was rather tired. I spent my time touring around many of Bram Stoker’s old haunts and studying fantasy and history in the same ways I did in London and Oxford. Marsh’s Library, Christ Church Cathedral, the Old Library — just to name a few. 

And now on day seven in Ireland and day 43 abroad, I am finishing this post from the final airport. My flight to MSP is in about an hour. I am so looking forward to home and family this evening. And yes, I bought the fiancé the largest tub of his favorite Maltesers the duty-free shop had to offer. 

Thanks for following along on this adventure, and for sticking with me on this extra long update! 

Until the next time.

Yours in jetlag,

-HK