The prickling excitement began with a hint of green in the Atlantic Ocean as we sailed into the vibrant harbor of Dublin, Ireland. The cry “all hands to docking stations!” was announced, and as our proud ship made contact with the harbor side, we received a warm welcome of pelting rain. Our brightly colored rain gear must have caught the attention of many, for within a couple of hours, a jolly old man with wispy white hair came riding up on his bicycle with a cordial smile and an exuberant personality. He proceeded to enthusiastically ask questions of those crew members on gangway watch for the next forty-five minutes, followed by an in-depth history lesson on his patriotic pride and love for his country. After he peddled away, a few whispered that perhaps he was a true leprechaun, come to give us an Irish salutation.

To our enjoyment, we experienced other instances of national pride throughout our five-day stay in the beautiful city. One example of this was our informative guided tour, led by a feisty Irishman. Together, we wove through the bustling streets as he kept us entertained with his animated opinions and distaste towards all threats against his nation’s fierce desire for sovereignty. A few of the riveting sites we visited that day included the renowned Trinity College, historical post office, and many a heroic monument to past leaders.

For many, the excitement never ended, because each day was filled with a new adventure! The first night was a whirl of color and spirited music. On one occasion, a hubbub of happy pub goers swept a group of us into a lively Irish Jig amidst the busy cobbled stone streets of the Temple Bar District.

                One aspect of our port program that will stay in many of our hearts for years to come began with piling into a sizable bus and heading out into the countryside. After traveling past many lush green pastures of grazing sheep, we finally arrived in the humble farmyard that would become our home for the day. Our big, sleepy eyes were wide with interest as we clambered out into the drizzling rain and headed for the shelter of the rustic, wooden barn. Greeted by the friendly smiles of the farm hands’ flushed and weather beaten faces, we spent the rest of our day exploring various aspects of traditional Irish culture. By the end we could have easily passed for a group of locals, especially after trying so hard to abandon our Canadian accents in favour of adopting the rolling, and almost musical, sound of the Irish tongue.

Delicious soda bread was made with great gusto (in some cases, flying eggs were the special ingredient), and smelly, pink pigs madly dashed after. To the beat of the Irish drum and the singing of the lively fiddle, we did a vigorous folk dance. At one point things got so lively that we were startled by the pounding of one hefty foot that may have thumped a little to hard into the rickety floor boards…faster and faster we went until our hearts were beating joyfully and our souls were ringing in tribute to Irish heritage. With faces flushed, we headed out doors for a traditional game of Hurley that sent many of us into fits of hysterics due to a few near encounters with grazing cows that came as a result of our lack of hand eye coordination. Luckily, we all survived.

Next, we came witness to the impressive results of a farmer’s quick orders to the sheep dogs. They bolted across the muddy field to the pen of fluffy white animals that bawed out their protest, trying hurriedly to escape the acute eyes of the approaching collies. Many felt a pang of fear as the sheep came thundering towards the ring of soaking wet, yet curious students that we had formed. Although the wall of wooly backs came to a frenzied stop for a moment or two within our human corral, chaos soon returned as they jostled about and flung themselves over our barricade, tumultuously galloping in the opposite direction of our shocked faces.

A tractor ride to an oozing bog of sephia peat moss marked the end of our satisfying day spent visiting Causey Farm. With a procession of hesitant, cold feet, we made our way into the centre of the squelching mound. Soon, however, all caution was thrown to the wind as we proceeded to cover ourselves (and one another), in ceaseless amounts of peat mud. After one last dance, we gave a merry wave to our gracious hostesses and newly made puppy friends, (which many of us tried to smuggle back) and headed back to our floating home, the stunning S/V Concordia.

The rest of our days on the green isle were filled with delicious food, numerous shopping excursions (especially to the woolen sweater stores), and misty train rides to the lovely city of Galway. Some of us went on a hike in the rich area of Howth, while others hit the runway of a classy Dublin fashion show.