On our first night in Galway, as Sisters #2 and #3 and I wandered around, a friendly stranger (are there any other kind in Ireland? Save for the drunk thug on our bus from Galway back to Dublin who spent a good portion of the time yelling into his phone about Bridget, the woman of the house, and some fooking money that had been taken off the table)
ANYWAY, a friendly stranger noticed us craning our necks this way and that as we took in the street scene outside our hotel, poking in and out of restaurants and shops on the vibrant, bustling street, and called out:
“You can’t get lost in Galway.” He paused, thinking a moment. “You might get drunk, but you can’t really get lost.”
Turns out, he was quite right.