"There Are No Streetlights, So Make Sure You Don't Fall in a Bush"

After the Cliffs of Moher, we made our way to the tiny village of Doolin in Clare. Our hostel was little more than a house; our group of 40 pretty much filled the entire space, and the only employees were the man who owned it and two Swiss students studying abroad.

That night, Caroline intended to take us to the only two pubs in town. As we headed out, she warned us that there were no streetlights in Doolin. "So walk carefully" she warned "and don't get so drunk that you end up in the bushes".

The first pub, McGann's, was warm and inviting, in contrast to the temperatures outside, which teetered somewhere in the mid 30s. We stayed for awhile, listening to music and chatting, before a group of us decided we were too exhausted to go to the second pub and headed back to the hostel.

On the way there, I looked up, gasped, and stopped in my tracks. "Guys!" I gasped. Because I had never seen so many stars in my life. The lack of streetlights, accompanied by the fact that we were in the middle of nowhere in Western Ireland, meant that there was nothing to block the stars. Instantly, the group of us decided we were going stargazing.

We put on every layer we had brought with us, and trekked out to the damp backyard of the hostel. Gazing up, we talked about everything and anything, periodically interrupting each other with cries of "shooting star!" with a "son of a bitch!" to follow when one of us had missed it. It was freezing, and after a little while I lost feeling in my toes, but it was totally worth it.

I don't know why nature is on an entirely different level in Ireland, but if I could transplant my entire family on this island, I'd have no reason to leave. It's painfully beautiful, from the stars to the cliffs to the sea, and I'm never prepared for how awe-inspiring each sight is. I could spend forever here and still be gobsmacked every time.