I have wanted to visit the Aran Islands for years, and this week was finally the moment. I had two days off work, and decided to set out after work on Sunday evening, in order to make it up to the ferry in Doolin for the morning ferry boat. I had read up on all three of the Aran Islands, and decided to set out for the largest island, Inish Mor (which means Big Island in Irish). I was all ready: my camping gear packed, my ferry ticket to Inis Mor purchased, my camping lined up for the two days. Because I worry about these things, I decided to print out my ticket while at work so I didn’t have to rely on a digital version on my phone. That is when I noticed it; the ticket read Doolin to Inis Maan (Middle Island in Irish), not Inis Mor. How did that happen? What was I to do!

My coworkers pointed out that since I was going out on a Bank Holiday Monday, Inis Mor was going to be packed, and so maybe I should consider Inis Maan instead of trying to change my ticket. I looked into it, and the more I looked at the island the better I liked the idea. The clincher was when I saw the description on Google Maps, “Tiny island with wildflowers and ruins.” That is really all I need for a good adventure, wildflowers and ruins, so I decided that this was meant to be.

My ferry, after dropping me off on Inis Maan.

The next morning, I showed up at the pier for the ferry and was shocked at the stream of cars and people coming in. It seemed that all of Ireland was heading onto the ferries to go out to the Islands. There were three ferries carrying a total of 750 people heading out to Inis Mor, but only my boat detoured to Inis Maan on the way. They pulled in to the harbour, tied up the boat, hoisted the walkway. and off I stepped. Me and…no one else. Just me. Feeling guilty about detouring the other 249 people aboard my ferry, I confirmed that yes I was getting the ferry back that evening and that I would be there at the appointed time, and off I set on my adventure.

The quietest of the three Aran Islands, Inis Maan is a beautiful spot to explore. Small green fields surrounded by high stone walls fill the northern half of the island where the pier is situated. I walked through this pastoral landscape up to where the village lies in the center of the town. Just above the village on the highest spot of the island is the ancient stone ring fort Dun Conor. I walked through the small fields to the entrance to the fort, and once the cow already in the entranceway made her way through, I did the same.

Ring forts are common throughout the west of Ireland, and they never cease to delight me. Built between 500AD and 1000AD, these huge stone structures are a physical reminder of how long this land has been occupied. In the very spot where I was standing, humans have been living, farming, protecting their families from outside forces, for many ages, and their monumental work in building this structure remains for us to see over a thousand years later. Most ring forts are round, but Dun Conor is more D shaped, likely to take advantage of the natural rock escarpment along the western edge. I enjoyed exploring the structure and the two clochans, or stone structures, within the large inner portion of the ring fort, sharing the place only with the herd of cows, all of whom were now grazing on the succulent grass within. I mentally thanked whatever computer glitch had given me a ferry ride here instead of to the more famous fort on Inis Mor, now being visited by 749 other ferry goers.

I next walked along the Western edge of the island, to Cathair Synge, or Synge’s Chair. Author J.M. Synge spent time on Inis Maan at the end of the 19th century, and he would walked out to this quiet spot to sit within the shelter of the stones overlooking the cliff, the ocean, and Inis Mor beyond. This part of the island gives way to the limestone pavements peculiar to this part of the world, with no soil present except in the grykes, the fissures in the limestone. Within these small fissures an abundance of wildflowers grow, and the area appears strangely barren while simultaneously teaming with biodiversity just beneath the surface of the ground.

Knowing the ferry would not wait around for long for me, I began my journey back to the other side of the island. I passed through the town, and found many of the houses had vegetable plots in their front gardens. Potatoes and cabbage were the most common, but broad beans, beets, and even some cucumbers and tomatoes were growing. Spectacular nasturiums overtook several gorgeous gardens. Throughout my day on the island, I met several other visitors, and a number of locals. Residents on the island speak the Irish language, and it is reassuring to hear Irish as the dominant language at least in this remote spot.

With weary feet I finally made it to the pier, with time to spare before the ferry arrived. Although several other people also appeared just after me, they were waiting for another boat, for when my ferry docked and set out the gangway, once again I was the only one to enter. I was grateful to the family who made a seat for me by holding their child on their lap so I could sit down, and I was even more grateful just a few minutes later to jump up again to look out into the water, when the same family spotted a pod of dolphins leaping in the wake of our ferry boat. Wildflowers, ruins, a quiet island populated with quiet locals, and dolphins prancing in the spray- it was the perfect adventure!