Ireland: Day 6
A Farewell to the Fields, and Full Circle to Dublin
I was genuinely sad to leave the milk parlour this morning. After waking to soft golden light and mooing cows, I took a quiet sunrise walk across the farm with Leo the sheepdog and an entourage of kittens, pheasants (yes, pheasants!), and about a hundred curious cows watching from the fields.
Before heading off, I had a heartwarming chat with Giovanni, the landowner. An Italian war veteran born in Napoli, Giovanni moved to Ireland decades ago as a young doctor. He was called out to this very farm to treat a sick cow—and ended up falling not just for the cow’s owner, Clare (now his wife of over 30 years), but also for the land and the country itself. He never left. There’s something so poetic about healing something small and gaining a whole new life from it.
With a fond “Piacere” and “Ciao,” I left County Carlow behind and made my way toward Glendalough (pronounced “Glen-da-lock”), nestled in the Wicklow Mountains National Park. This ancient valley is one of Ireland’s most beautiful and historically significant sites—home to a 6th-century monastic settlement founded by St. Kevin. Known for its “two lakes” (the name Glendalough means just that in Irish), the area was once a sacred pilgrimage site and still holds a certain spiritual pull, even with the modern crowd.
And oh, the crowds. I had completely forgotten it was a bank holiday. It was full-blown tourism central—families, hikers, school groups, selfie sticks. I wandered the ancient Monastic City (yep, that’s its real name), saw the famous round tower, and walked from the lower to upper lakes, eventually reaching a tucked-away waterfall. After all that, I took a well-earned Guinness at Casey’s and decided I’d had enough of the crowds.
Onward to quieter roads, I followed the scenic route through Laragh, ducked into a charming antique store (thanks, Mum and Dad), and then made the drive up to Sally Gap, one of Ireland’s most cinematic drives. At the top, I visited Lough Tay—also known as Guinness Lake—named for the estate owned by the Guinness family and its striking resemblance to a pint: dark waters and a creamy white sand shore at one end. Nature’s branding, perfected.
From there, it was a smooth drive into Dublin. I stopped at Avoca (because who can resist a final bit of Irish shopping?), and arrived at The Hendrick for my last overnight on the island.
Although I’d heard that Dublin has changed a bit in the last year—more chaotic, a bit edgier—I decided not to let that hold me back. I met up with Eimear, the niece of one of my mum’s friends from Adelaide, and someone who had helped me plan this trip from afar. She turned out to be a total gem—brilliant, hilarious, a pharmaceutical scientist by day and accidental tour guide by night. We bonded instantly over our love of Ireland, Canada, and Australia.
We kicked off the night with cocktails at Bar 1661 (arguably the best in town), then headed to Krewe for spicy Creole food and cross-continental storytelling. Eimear taught me about Irish history, politics, and the nuances of the Irish language—and I left with a new friend and a heart full of gratitude.
And then… it was time. A 4 a.m. alarm, a silent goodbye to The Hendrick, and a final journey to the airport. I said farewell to Sinead—my trusty rental car and loyal travel companion for over 1,036 km. She carried me through every twist and turn of this wild green island, and I’ll miss her dearly.
I traveled east to west not just as a directional choice—but as a means of returning to something within myself. There was an old part of me that needed to rise up, be seen, and be gently let go. And somehow, this country made space for that.
Ireland is a land of stories—beautiful and brutal. Its landscape is stunning, but its past is heavy: famine, colonization, mass emigration. There’s a deep sorrow in the soil, a melancholy that lingers in the wind. And yet, there is so much joy, resilience, humour, and magic here too. I leave with a profound sense of compassion for this place—and for myself.
What a journey. What a gift.
Key Takeaways & Travel Tips from Carlow to Dublin:
Soak in the slow mornings: Sunrise farm walks, friendly sheepdogs, and heartfelt chats with locals (like Giovanni’s love story) are the soul of rural Ireland. Don’t rush them.
Glendalough is stunning, but plan ahead: This sacred valley is worth a visit, but arrive early or avoid bank holidays if you’re seeking peace over crowds.
Sally Gap is a must-drive: This scenic route through the Wicklow Mountains leads to Lough Tay (aka Guinness Lake) is a surreal and striking sight not to be missed.
Dublin deserves a good sendoff: End your trip with dinner and a cocktail at Bar 1661 and Krewe, and connect with locals if you can. As you can tell, stories flow freely in this city.
Savour the symbolism: From monastic ruins to long drives across the country, Ireland invites personal reflection. Travel here isn’t just about sights, it’s about transformation.
Farewell, not goodbye: Saying goodbye to your rental car (and the journey it carried) might feel like the end, but the stories and shifts you experienced will travel with you long after.
