Twenty years ago, while spending my JYA in London, I accompanied my flatmate, Julie, to Ireland for spring break. We flew then-fledgling Virgin Atlantic from Luton (outside of London) to Dublin. We rented a car and drove around Ireland for a week.
For the record, I have never met a bigger U2 fan than Julie. Ever. This trip to Ireland didn't just signal a heritage visit for her, either (she's 110% Irish). This trip to Ireland was meant to trace every single step that each member of U2 had ever taken. I'm no longer sure how each place we visited is connected to the band, but I can assure you that at times our trip had a life of its own.
We saw some amazing sites—most of which an not U2 related—and an incredible landscape.
Our itinerary took us from Dublin to Galway on the west coast. We followed the coast, stopping to crawl on hands and knees to lean over the very windy and stunning Cliffs of Moher (county Clare). The Cliffs, pictured above, was a site for a promotional video that U2 shot prior to Unforgettable Fire. We drove along the breathtaking Ring of Kerry (county Kerry). At Kenmare we cut east to the small market town of Macroom, which has a cool gate to the city. On our way to Cork, we kissed the Blarney stone. On our way back to Dublin, we visited Youghal, a quiet fishing village, and the Waterford factory.
Before we reached the Dublin city limits, we made one last very special stop in Bray (county Wicklow)—to knock on the door of a man known locally as Paul Hewson. We had Hewson's address from a reliable source**, but still had to do some asking around to find his unusual home, a Martello tower. Jules had read a Rolling Stone interview in which Bono stated that he would invite in for tea anyone who could find his home. We found his home and knocked on the door, to no avail. Bono was busy in Dublin doing a press junket for what would be U2's breakout album.
Finally, we celebrated St. Patrick's Day 1988, in Dublin, during what I believe—though wikipedia begs to differ—was the city's 1,000th anniversary. St. Paddy's Day was crazy with a big parade and drunk people—lots of drunk people—hanging off statues and streetlights. Not exactly the solemn, religious holiday I had been told the Irish practice. Later that week we hit every Dublin club in which U2 ever played and saw Van Morrison, the Chieftains, and U2 play live. Free.
St. Patrick's Days since then—even those spent with the Scanlan's gang—have paled.
*Long live Ireland
**Jules had a boyfriend who worked for Island Records
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