Ireland is the best place to have craic. 

Craic (pronounced “crack”) is Irish for “good fun” and is a central tenet of Irish culture. After endless years of struggle, brutality and famine under colonialism, the Irish place a high value on joy and entertainment. 

Walking through the streets of Galway, the cultural capital of Ireland and a coastal city that dates back to the 13th century, during my semester abroad, it’s difficult to not walk into a pub. Almost every establishment that borders the cobblestone streets of Galway is peddling Guinness and some chips, and more often than not, live music and dancing to go with it.

Buskers fill the cool night air with melodies as you walk to grab a pint or step inside one of the charming jewelers selling Galway’s traditional Claddagh rings. Seagulls screech as they glide overhead, floating on the wind toward the sea. If you follow them, they’ll take you through the Latin Quarter, under the centuries-old Spanish Arch and out to the Long Walk, which overlooks the majestic Galway Bay.

Being a quaint, walkable, waterside city, Galway did remind me a bit of Georgetown, which helped me adjust to this new setting faster than I expected. But it’s also different in some wonderful ways.

Here in Ireland, ice cream is served with a Cadbury Flake, the beach is suitable only for seals and the bravest of souls, lighthouses dot the horizon as fishing boats chug by and the swans are as numerous as the rats in Georgetown. 

Additionally, the ability to access other destinations from Galway astounds me. I could truly spend every moment of my semester just exploring these small streets, but being about a two-hour train ride from Dublin, where I can catch affordable flights to places like Paris and Madrid, was an unexpected bonus. 

While I’m excited to tour Europe as much as I can, Ireland itself is truly magical. The mountains and lakes of the Connemara region are charged with ancient history and deep-rooted mysticism, and trips into Belfast show a jarring political and cultural divide that highlights strife that has often struck the peaceful island.

I’ve always been entranced by the idea of Ireland, but touching its soft, warm grass and seeing its impossibly blue ocean crash against the 700-foot-tall Cliffs of Moher, I have fallen utterly in love with the Emerald Isle.

Not only is the landscape and cultural atmosphere here more freeing and open, but academics are too. Monday, Sept. 5 was my first day of classes, and despite registering for three Monday courses, I only had one class that day. One professor pushed back the start of the class until halfway through the semester for her maternity leave, and another decided to start the course on Tuesday. In most of my classes, I only have one or two major assignments and those are the only elements that determine my grade in the course. Compared to the rigor and stress of Georgetown, the relaxed attitude of Ireland towards academics has been a nice change. 

The most notable part of my Irish experience, however, is the friendships I’ve made so far. Students, just like me, have left their homes from all parts of the world in search of something new. This journey, the distance from home, binds us together and forms unique relationships. I’ve barely lived here a week and I’ve already traveled to other Irish provinces with my new flatmates, eager to fully immerse ourselves in the Irish experience. 

So far, Ireland is swell.