Experiencing the Irish ‘Craic’
First Visit to the Old Country
One word sums up the feeling of Ireland: the slang word ‘craic.’ The translation doesn’t do it justice; it’s much more than simply “fun.”
Depending on the context, ‘craic’ can also describe an experience, a sensation, a feeling, or just an expression of a great time. Ireland has a soul, and the Irish love to share the joy of life. Always with a twinkle in the eye and a dry sense of humor.
My father was born and bred in Castlebar, County Mayo, on the west coast. Before the entire family upped and moved to England in the early 1950s, they toured around Ireland as a music band. Grandma was the singer; Grandpa on fiddle; Uncle Ernie played Sax and Clarinet, Auntie Margo guitar, and my dad played the keyboard—a musical family.
But times were hard, and, as for many Irish over the years, they were forced to migrate, looking for work. Successfully, I might add. I can’t say if any of our extended family ever returned to Ireland over the years, but I know that my dad never did, which I’m sure he regretted until his dying day (he passed away in 2018).
My wife and I have just returned from a short visit to Dublin, the first time I’ve been to Ireland in my sixty-four years. We only had time for two nights, so only one full day. But the experience, while short, is changing my life. I’m starting to get hints of the ‘craic.’ Perhaps it’s always been there in my blood, but without any context, it has remained dormant and ignored.
Our first port of call in our one and only full day in Dublin was to visit the Library of Trinity College Dublin. I had been wanting to see the Long Room for years. The first impression was of disappointment, as the vast majority of the bookshelves had been emptied, with all the books removed for cleaning, renovation where necessary, and storage in climate-controlled environments.
I needn’t have worried, though. The ambiance and the Book of Kills experience more than made up for any disappointment felt. The removal of the books is the precursor to the Old Library Redevelopment Project. I’ve no idea how long this is going to take, and I reserve judgment until I can see the results with my own eyes. I’m just happy I managed to see the Long Room in its original state.
There are many pubs in the Temple Bar area of Dublin, but the one that drew me in like a moth to a flame was the traditional Irish music. And this was in the middle of the day, a Friday Lunchtime. It was time for a quick pint, we thought. We stayed for well over an hour, and one pint quickly became two before it was time to move on.
Before we left, I wanted to thank the musicians. It was my birthday, and they had made it a day to remember. Big mistake. I wasn’t allowed to leave until the entire pub wished me a happy birthday. I was so embarrassed. As an introvert, I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. On the flip side, I couldn’t figure out what I was feeling; it was my first real experience of the ‘craic.’
With the music still buzzing in our ears, we strolled across the River Liffey to the General Post Office, the scene of the start of the Easter Rising in 1916.
Editor note: I had written a section summarizing the Easter Rising, going on to talk about the War of Independence and the brief Civil War. But it was completely at odds with the rest of this piece. However, if you are interested, I’ve included a link.
I find myself searching for that same ‘craic’ at home, back in The Netherlands. But, if it exists, it is buried so deeply as to be undetectable.
I’m already missing the instinctive feeling of connection to the people we met. Every single one was so friendly and welcoming. My last experience in Dublin was with our taxi driver on the way to the airport. The drive was only slightly more than half an hour, but I could have talked to him for hours.
Final Thoughts
We had talked about taking a trip to Ireland for many years, but each year, something else always took priority: visiting family in Scotland, a weekend trip to Paris, or vacationing around the world. Ireland and Dublin were always pushed to the back of the queue.
I’m grateful that I finally got to experience the land of my father. It would have been a shame to have reached the end of my life and missed out on the home I’ve never known.
We will be back soon. There is so much we didn’t allow ourselves the time for, and that’s just Dublin—never mind the rest of the country.