The City of No Signs

October 19 North of Galway

Galway is useless. Gray, busy, and full of drunk kids. And why aren't there any damn street signs in the entire city? No joke. Bloody stupid. I got so seriously lost last night, I ended up getting a ride in the back of a Gardia (the cops), but even they took me to the wrong place. I didn't want to get back into the cop car, so I just said it was the right place and wandered more in the city of no signs until I found the hostel, salmon weir.

But Galway isn't good for much. Drinking. That's about it. We found a pub that actually had an affordable ale called the Hole in the Wall Pub, but was offset with guys swinging from the rafters and broken glass all over the floor. It was like walking on the crunchings of peanut shells. There was a night club called CP's (Couch Potatoes) with hordes of sweaty nubile youngsters dancing to insanely loud tunes.

Note: The hostel Archview is the most heinous nasty foul lodging I have ever been to. Full of Nihilist socks, dreadlocked filth, and the deathsmell of unwashed Poles.