Studying abroad offers a unique lens through which young people view the world, distinct from family vacations or guided tours.
Last summer, my experience in Rome Connection, a two-week summer study abroad program for first-year students, set a high bar, and I eagerly anticipated my next two-week summer program abroad, Travel Writing in Ireland.
My expectations were simple: Guinness, fish and chips, the Cliffs of Moher, and pub culture. Yet, I quickly learned that travel writing demands more than just observation; it requires handling the unexpected, the frustrating, and the deeply personal.
My time in Ireland unfolded through three intense experiences that reshaped my preconceived notions: the reality of pub culture, the profound solitude of the Cliffs of Moher, and the unsettling feeling of being an "American" abroad.
For many young travelers, Ireland’s pub scene is a primary draw. I discovered a preference for Guinness with a shot of blackcurrant, a detail a bartender wryly noted was typically for first-timers. This immediately highlighted a subtle, yet persistent, feeling of juvenile awkwardness despite being well past the legal drinking age. It was a strange sensation, feeling out of place in a space meant for adults, constantly reminding myself that I was old enough.
My first night in Galway offered a stark contrast in pub atmospheres. Coyotes Late Bar, with its sticky floors, dim lighting, and mix of bachelorette parties and young people in Western wear. It felt jarringly like spring break at a Nashville bar.
My friends and I quickly moved to Skeffs Bar in Eyre Square, a completely different world of warm lighting, leather seats, and live music that blended country and Irish covers. Here, the energy was infectious, and fitting in felt effortless. While not uniquely Irish, it was a night where genuine connection and enjoyment flowed freely—a reminder that the best travel moments often arise from unexpected, authentic connections, even if they're with a crowd singing along to Noah Kahan.
The undisputed highlight of my trip was the Cliffs of Moher, a fixture on my Pinterest vision board and it surpassed every expectation. The wind whipped my hair and stung my eyes, yet the views were breathtaking.
What truly elevated the experience was my decision to venture off alone after the visitor center, walking for half an hour towards the sea stack, past O’Brien’s Tower. With classical music drowning out the crunch of gravel and the chatter of tourists, I immersed myself in the landscape.
It was a moment of pure, unadulterated awe, a feeling of lightness as I gazed at the vast expanse I had only dreamed of. This solitary communion with nature was the peak of my trip, an experience I would suggest doing alone.
Yet, not all reflections were idyllic. Feeling like an "American" in a foreign country is rarely a compliment. I aspire to be a seasoned traveler, adept at navigating new cultures, but in Ireland, I often felt reduced to a stereotype.
The most jarring instance occurred at a club in Dublin, a popular spot for young American adults. The bouncer’s opening question, "Do you like Donald Trump?,” immediately set an uncomfortable tone.
My instinctive "No, never!" was the only acceptable answer, yet it underscored a pervasive sentiment: a perceived pity for Americans due to our political landscape. This bias, the grouping with "inexperienced American tourists," was a frustrating undercurrent to my desire for unbiased cultural engagement.
I also made my share of mistakes—embarrassing, frustrating, and costly ones. The botched Leap card purchase in a bustling Galway SPAR, where an overwhelmed employee loaded $24 onto a Dublin-only pass, was a financial hit for five of us. Standing on the wrong side of the road at Malahide Castle for 45 minutes, or falling into tourist trap bars with $15 martinis, were all part of the learning curve.
It was easy to dismiss these as "dumb American" moments, but I’ve come to realize they are simply the inevitable stumbles of any human learning to navigate a new environment.
As Nathan Oates, English professor and director of undergraduate writing studies, wisely put it, these moments are "Part of the travel experience…"
My time in Ireland, with its diverse and sometimes strange lessons, has substantially shaped my understanding of travel. While I cherish the positive impact of studying abroad with peers, I also recognize that group dynamics can, at times, hinder individual learning and pure, unjudged perspective.
Ireland, in its stark differences from Rome and other countries I've visited, has solidified my yearning for future solo adventures. To truly learn from a new country, to absorb its essence without external influence, is now my ultimate travel aspiration.
Keira Bala is a videographer for The Setonian. She can be reached at keira.bala@student.shu.edu.
