Kilronan to Galway City via Rossaveel; Bachelor-party whipping boy

The ferry trip from Kilronan to Rossaveel was quick, but the bus ride from Rossaveel to Galway City was no fun - standing room only for an hour, but we passed the time chatting with two American couples and were offered a place to stay in Chicago.

On arriving in the city, we found our hostel for the night, a huge hotel-style factory hostel with easily four hundred beds. The place was bedlam - the common room was crammed with screaming American teenagers and I had to share the shower room with what sounded like an entire Australian rugby team. We escaped, shell-shocked and with splitting heads, to find Armin and his friend.

It being a holiday weekend, Galway was completely insane and full of stag- and hen-night parties. We hadn’t gone a hundred meters before being accosted by a very drunk and very obnoxious man with a bachelor party. He’d been whipping his friend, the groom, with a riding crop. The groom was a trembly, watery-eyed sort, very drunk and pretty clearly having a shitty time at the merciless hands of his so-called best man. The best man begged Sheryl to take a turn with the whip, but she was understandably loath to whip a perfect stranger and so she declined, but prompted by the miserable look of the groom, she offered to whip the obnoxious best man instead. The rest of the party thought this was a grand idea and the best man was a good sport, so he bent over and Sheryl lined up behind him with the crop and swung. Unfortunately her wrists weren’t up to it that night, and he barely felt it. Everyone was disappointed and called for a do-over. I’d decided that the best man needed a taste of his own medicine, though, and when he bent over and closed his eyes and Sheryl squared up again, I snatched the whip from her at the last second and put my shoulder into it. The howls had to be heard to be believed. Naturally I put the whip back in Sheryl’s hand but the best man was the only one who hadn’t seen it. The groom was nearly in tears of gratitude and hugged me and thanked me over and over. Smirking and having done our bit for justice, we repaired to an off-license and went drinking at the Spanish Arch down by the river, where we had a good time watching more very drunk people smash bottles, and where Armin stole an iPod from someone who richly deserved it.

Flourish

See the Photos for this Dispatch:

Chris Liberty - Dispatches from a Gentleman Adventurer
Being the internal dialog of a vagabond who chased his own tail across five continents for 4 years and 2 days from May 2008 to May 2012, in search of something that never really became clear.
This travelogue comprises 16,426 photographs and 402,515 words in 307 dispatches written from 335 places in 52 countries on 6 continents around the world.
Don't like using the map? Navigate through continents, countries and locations using the tree below.
Thrill to the exploits of our infamous sidekick Spidey (a small gentleman adventurer himself) in photo-essay form in his very own gallery!
Contact via Email:Contact via Email
Follow on Twitter:Follow on Twitter
Locations feed:Locations feed
Dispatch feed:Dispatch feed
Photograph feed:Photo feed