Yes, believe it or not, there are cons to traveling. At least, there are to me. But don’t worry, it’s only in Deep Stuff. Don’t read that part if you don’t want.
Fun Stuff.
February 21st, a friend and I zipped over to the Galway Coach Station after our 1pm class. Because Belfast is in Northern Ireland, we needed to catch a bus to Dublin and then connect to another bus from there. When we arrived in Dublin, we realized we were waiting at the wrong stop for the Belfast bus, and with only ten minutes to departure time, ran for it to where we thought must-hopefully-maybe-right? be the correct spot. Luckily, it was, and the bus was still there. When we arrived in Belfast, since we were in the UK, our phones weren’t working yet. We got a little lost on the way to the Hostel without a GPS in parts of the city we weren’t sure were good or bad. It was… let’s say, thrilling. Very Hollywood-esque, our two snafus of running to a bus that would soon be leaving and speed walking through an unfamiliar place with luggage, lost and very jumpy. Eventually, we found Botanical Backpackers and settled into the cutest hostel with the coziest vibes. Being the economical college students we are, we brought along some spaghetti to make for dinner instead of eating out.
Our first Hostel experience! 
Gourmet, right?
The next day, we booked a bus tour to see the Giant’s Causeway. We got to stop in the town of Carnlough, see a Game of Thrones site (which, admittedly, meant nothing to me as a non-viewer), ride along the Antrim Coast, and explore Ballycastle’s beautiful views. Sadly, it was far too windy to cross the rope bridge and it was closed.
Don’t mind my squinting eyes. It was windy and they were watering.
When we got to the Giant’s Causeway, the intense winds only increased. I’m not going to lie: it was strong enough to pick me up off my feet more than once. They had to guard off certain portions of the Causeway because of this; either way, though, it was a great sight. The visitor’s center provided fun animations of the myth behind the Causeway. If you’re not familiar with the tale of the Irish and Scottish giants, I would look it up. It’s good fun (If you don’t know, I’m being sneakily Irish with this phrase. My flatmate Ruairi says it a lot, and it’s osmosis-ing into my vernacular).
I seriously cannot stress this enough: it was windy.
The next week, we set off at 1:30am on a Thursday morning to travel to Edinburgh. It was a long day considering our wake up time to get to the Dublin airport, but me-oh-my was it worth it! The city itself is absolutely gorgeous, and the feeling of being there is truly indescribable. My friend and I kept turning to each other and saying, “Am I really here? Is this not a movie that I’m watching?” As someone who has traveled mainly within the United States, it is something of an out of body experience when you see places you’ve only experienced from the other side of a screen.
We started the morning with a trip to the Elephant House, AKA a local spot where JK Rowling did a good bit of Harry Potter writing in her undiscovered days. The bathrooms were filled with graffiti of HP quotes, my favorite being “This way to the ministry” just above the toilet, if you can spot it.
After that, we did an underground vaults tour and listened to all the haunting tales of those lost to its secrets. Good thing it was a 1pm tour, otherwise I may have gotten spooked. We had dinner at Mamma’s Comfort Foods where I enjoyed some very good mac ‘n’ cheese. It was, as advertised, comforting.
The following day we traveled through the Scottish Highlands to the infamous Loch Ness. There, we did an hour long boat tour through the peaty waters. Sadly, we didn’t see Nessie. Happily, we had fun trying to lure her to the surface with our expert wilderness animal calls.
Our last full day consisted of a two hour exploration of Edinburgh Castle, where we got to see the actual Scottish crown and jewels! Unfortunately, no photographs permitted. But I have to say, if you ever get the chance to go, it was one of the biggest history-coming-to-life moments of my life. The castle itself was huge and beautiful and full of things to look at, including a dog cemetery from the 1800’s for the fallen pets of Scottish regiment. We also popped into the Camera Obscura Illusion museum, which was – as the kids say – trippy.
Deep Stuff.
The Galway Cathedral did their annual Solemn Novena leading up to Lent. I was only able to attend a couple of the masses, but it was wonderful. Ash Wednesday was so incredibly blessed and though I have an intense 40 days upon me, I know it’ll be made of great growth and surrender.
During my time abroad, I’ve been working on (with the grace of God) my prayer life. One way I have been trying to make it more consistent and authentic is by 1). having a certain amount of prayers I do everyday and 2). retraining my thoughts to be prayers (e.g. instead of thinking “this is really hard,” praying “God, I’m having a really hard time”). It’s a process with lots of failure, but the aim is to always revert to prayer and speak with God throughout the day – to have a little cell in my heart where Jesus and I are always in communication, as St. Faustina would say.
Here’s the challenge. Being abroad means traveling. Traveling means busy days from start to finish and never being alone. I’m used to a routine of prayer in the morning, midday, and at night – especially since some of the prayers are meant to be said out loud. Being in another place with another person and exploring this and that make it very difficult to uphold that commitment. During my trips, I mostly had to go through everything just before bed – which I don’t like, because I want to be praying throughout my whole day.
Though I had so much fun, in a much deeper part of my soul, I felt vacant. Nothing in my quantity of prayer life was different; I was still reciting all the same prayers and doing the readings. This was the difference: planning my day around my prayer vs. planning my prayer around my day. When I fall into the latter, something in me feels off, dull, empty.
This is a realization of great joy. This means that in my spiritual journey, prayer has become so intimately part of me that my soul aches for it when it is gone, even if only for part of the day. I share this not to boast, but to rejoice! I can see now exactly what the challenge is like, traveling and praying. Now I know what to expect and how the enemy will try and pry apart my peace. Spoiler alert: not going to happen. Though I will certainly fall short again, (in all things for the rest of my life because I am human and a sinner) I know that I’ve got a Heavenly Father and Mother taking every single step before I do. And Faustina too: my Lenten buddy.
Galway Girl 