I know you didn’t think the next lengthy installment of my newsletter would be anything but an exhaustive look back on my trip to Ireland. I will be talking about this trip until my last, dying breath. And I’m not sorry about it!!
For those of you who don’t follow me on Instagram, yes, it’s true, I did go abroad. *holds for applause* Not only did she go abroad but she went to a foreign country and didn’t even pack a bikini!! That’s growth, people. This is kind of a Big Fucking Deal because the last time I left this country was 10 + years ago when I was still calling trips “spring break” and thought the epitome of culture was vacationing somewhere with a swim up bar.
I’m sure it surprises you to learn that I’m not internationally very well-traveled. Before this trip I had been to approximately 3 countries: Australia, New Zealand, and Mexico. Australia and New Zealand sound cool but I was 19 and spent the majority of my time in those countries defending bandage skirts as fashion and complaining about the fact that there were no penny draft nights.
Mexico was the aforementioned spring break trip, though I was actually a year out of college at that point and just aggressively in denial about it. I spent the majority of that vacation paranoid that the ice cubes in my frozen mojitos were going to result in a gestational Mt. Vesuvius.
Let’s just say I had a lot to make up for. I wanted Ireland to be the trip that rebranded my traveler persona. No longer would I be the American Tart* wreaking transatlantic havoc by butchering common pronunciations and embarrassing the locals with my gross American habit of always talking about how much to tip.
And yet sometimes, even with the best of intentions, you can only be yourself. I guess I’m just in my American Tart era. So, here is a look at the tartiest things we did on the trip:
1. Having a travel plan that matched every college sophomores’ in the country
Look, truthfully, we asked for this. We planned this trip during early March specifically because it aligned with my spring break. As an educator, I was giddy at the thought of having an entire week, student-free, to travel. It did not occur to me that also my students would like a week without me and my nifty writing assignments to travel. The result was that our trip was overrun with under-developed frontal lobes and bro-tanks.
I have never seen so many unaccompanied minors in my life. My god there were so many college kids. They were on our flight clogging up the overhead compartment spaces, on the back of our Cliffs of Moher tour bus talking loudly about their hangovers, and on our hiking excursions sending me into cardiac arrest with their platform ugg boots. Why they were all traveling to Ireland I’ll never understand. They should have been in Cancun drinking bottom shelf tequila out of each other’s navels like normal 20 year olds! But alas, they were not, and given that I heard the words “I was 16 at the start of the pandemic” (a chilling omission uttered on the bus leaving the Aran Islands) our American Tart rating grew just by sharing the same air as these people.
2. Asking for a carafe at brunch
The Irish might be getting fucked up at brunch** but they certainly aren’t going to lower themselves by asking for a price-efficient, shared drinking option for the table. I’ve never been more embarrassed than when we, fresh off a red-eye and ready to see the sights, made the mistake of asking for a carafe of mimosas at brunch. The look of horror on our waitress’ face suggested that we might as well have asked for a funnel and her heaviest pour. I think her exact response was “um, yeah, we only serve alcohol by the glass here…” to which we all immediately considered throwing ourselves into oncoming traffic. You live, laugh, love, and sometimes you learn!
3. Going full thirst trap to see a sacred religious text
I think the picture says it all, but here I am at 9:30 in the morning wearing leather and a crop top that says “I like to read but I’m still hot” and treating one of the oldest collegiate libraries in Ireland (established in 1592!) like the backdrop for my own personal Skims ad.
4. “Honey, you look tired”
This whole day was an exercise in the enduring spirit of the human condition. We made the mistake of scheduling a Guinness tour/tasting and Jameson tour/tasting on our second day in Ireland. Sounds fun and flirty, right? In actuality we were held hostage for 60 minutes by a sadistic Gen Z bartender named Circa. Have you ever been force-fed whiskey by a 5 foot nothing girlie pop sporting near perfect winged eyeliner and a positive attitude? ‘Cause I have and let me tell you that shit will humble you.
Some of it was our fault—we did spend the day before said tastings getting absolutely obliterated—and to say we were hungover would be a kindness. Fruit flies had more critical thinking skills than we did. At one point my traveling companions even sprawled out on the floors of the Jameson Distillery and waited for death to claim them.
This was around the time when Circa entered the scene, took one look at us, and visibly recoiled (though that could have been our stench! Who can say!). “You look tired, girls” she said and inched closer to the youth and vitality emanating from the finance bros on the other side of the room. “You look tired” was both and insult and a compliment. We did not look tired we looked like Kelly Kapoor after a juice cleanse.
She spent the rest of the tasting making several references to those in the room “who might be feeling vulnerable” and suggested those people actually not partake in the drinking at all. I would love to see Circa, who apparently was raised with a glass of whiskey in her fist, aggressively drink in her 30s. Call me when you have the metabolism of a slug and then we’ll talk who looks tired, mmkay!
5. Almost losing life and limb in the Aran Island
There comes a moment during every American Tart’s travels when they wonder if they might become the next Natalie Holloway. For us that moment came when we were hustled into a strange man’s van who promised to show us the wonders of the Aran Islands and instead led us on a death march through the island’s unforgiving terrain.
Our tour guide, who simply went by P. Oliver, seemed about as interested in educating us about the island as he was in his personal hygiene. He didn’t so much give us a tour as he did park at random, abandoned areas and begin hiking without any instructions or encouragement to follow him. The hikes were perilous. He didn’t seem concerned that half of his tour group was dressed in platform uggs and crop tops (looking at you Emma, Kennedy, and Kennedy’s sister) and the other half considered Pure Barre their primary source of cardio (hi, it’s me). At one point he led us to a very large, very tall circle of standing rocks and just started climbing. And we followed!! We literally scaled a crumbling rock structure 60 ft tall and were just like “okay, P. Oliver, you crazy rascal, we’re coming!”
But, ya know, at least we got great content out of it:
These are, of course, just the low-lights. I’m sure I embarrassed our country more times than just the above. But this isn’t my wedding album so I’m not going to hold you hostage for the next 2-6 hours as I intimately describe every detail of my trip. I’ll save that for my paid subscribers!
Until next time!
xo,
Ry
**Notes & Afterthoughts**
*American Tart: a noun meaning a person who both embodies stereotypical American qualities while simultaneously bringing shame upon the nation for acting on those qualities. The most famous example of an American Tart is Wallis Simpson, the socialite divorcee and certified strumpet, who broke the British monarchy like an iPhone screen after three days in my possession by getting her lover King Edward VIII to abdicate his throne.
You can also exhibit American tart-y behavior without being an American Tart at your core. Those who exhibit such behavior merely don the American Tart persona like a coat, seemingly subconsciously and against best intentions, the moment they cross border lines. Examples of this are Lindsey Lohan casually trying to snatch children from the streets of Mykonos because she feared they were being trafficked (in reality they were just out for a stroll with their parents), and fictional twins Melanie and Allyson Porter (played by icons Mary Kate & Ashley Olsen) spitting out escargot in front of French dignitaries in Passport to Paris.
** Yes, our first stop after a red-eye to Dublin was brunch. No, I’m not including that on the list though it is inherently very tart-y behavior. That’s not so much me being an American Tart as it is me creatively expressing myself through sparkling wine. I won’t apologize for being a brunch enthusiast!