There is an entire culture of such attitudes in Galway ascending to the surface differently amidst the myriad of incongruous lifestyles and contrasting occupations.  One local worked sparingly, juggled in the street for change, and frequented the vast expanse of pubs.  He planned to attend a performing art school outside of Ireland but Ecstasy kept him too removed from reality to realize that the days were quickly becoming years.  Another young man stopped through Galway on his way from Spain back to South America.  He planned on being in Galway for less than a week; one last stop before returning home to the country of his birth. When I spoke with him he’d been working odd jobs in the city by the bay for two years and had met an Irish girl who planned to travel to South America with him when he left.  Both of them were jovial, effervescent people and both of them were always in the pub; barely keeping their heads above the water line of both drunkenness and self imposed poverty.  Attempting to save cash in the graveyard of ambition of Galway kept them unproductively in the pub scene and consistently unable to keep hold of that elusive extra pound.

My neighbor was a dishwasher who came to Galway to study English and travel the countryside.  Outside the restaurant where he worked I asked him about his Claddagh ring, its crown covered heart pointed in; the sign he belonged to a woman.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” I asked him nodding at the ring and trying to make friendly conversation.

“And a baby.” He said, shooting me a quick glance.  After a moment he looked back at his outstretched fingers, pulled them tensely into a fist and exhaled a cloud of smoke from his Virginia Gold hand rolled cigarette.  Rolled smokes are harsh on the lungs but also cheap, and anything to save that elusive extra pound.  So, did this sense of despair in those not actively seeking goals transfer to those that appeared ambitious?

Coincidentally, the presence of the National University of Ireland-Galway may actually perpetuate the idea that the city is a prime spot to waste time.  But a new way of looking at life in an extremely dynamic country has brought about a change in goals for young Irish students.  The students at NUI-Galway have a much healthier attitude of education than their peers in the U.S.  Many of them have absolutely no idea what they want to do with their lives and don’t pretend that college is the most important time to make such weighty decisions.  The college years are a time to learn just as much about oneself as one does a particular discipline and the social interaction available to students in Galway are unequaled in Ireland. With over 60 percent of the nation’s population under 25 and an apparent concentration of that percentage in a city smaller than some U.S. universities, meeting people isn’t a problem.

It seems a shame that college isn’t more about what you want to study than what you want to do.” One student commented to me regarding the American system of higher education.

There isn’t the same sense of urgency imbedded in Irish University students as their peers in the U.S.  They realize that they’re in school to learn as much about life as they do about academics and such feelings combined with the Irish government’s offer of a free university level education for academically qualified students leaves them ample opportunity to do so.

The storm eventually passed over and as the sun returned, I continued my journey through the steamy streets.  A rush of people who seemed particularly settled into the speed of the Galway lifestyle crowded the road around me; pouring out of pubs, headed to work or to class - all looking intent on arriving somewhere. So perhaps the critics were wrong, perhaps those who appear to be treading water in places like Galway, whether they are students or not, may be confident in their ability to have an impact on the world without feeling the need to rush out into the storm before they’re ready. After all, the easy going nature of the Irish is what brought me to the county, and then to Galway, in the first place. I was only passing through and before I knew it, the town embraced me and an accidental tourist became an intended if not temporary resident.

When I finally arrived at Biquets, a French wine bar near the center of town, my friend was waiting, and she was much drier than I. We sat down at the bar to a nice glass of Bordeaux (an increasingly more common availability as Ireland has become Europe’s largest new consumer of wine) and raised our glasses for a toast.

“Here is to the good life” she said, “for those who have the sense to know how and where to live it.”

I paused at the thought of what she’d said, “For those who have the sense to know how and where to live it.”

An older woman behind us raised her glass and looked into the distance over our table - perhaps caught in some distant memory when she first uttered those words.

“Thank god for dreamers” she whispered, her voice muted by a rough smoky cough.

We returned the toast, raising our glasses to meet hers and I drifted off for a moment wondering if I would ever be able to set aside my dreams in order to assimilate to the “good life” of Galway City - and it struck me that I probably wouldn’t.  Perhaps that attitude goes against the youth culture of my peers in Galway, but I have no desire to lose site of where I’m headed; not even to wet my lips in the felicitous Irish pub scene.  For every dark sweet drink of Guinness has both a bitter and sweet side.

As my friend saw my face she relaxed a bit, set down her glass and took a long satisfied look at me.

“In time, you’re going to fit right in here lad.” She said.

I smiled at her wondering if she was able to read my mind.  Maybe she was right; maybe I would find my place in the culture of Galway; it was after all the cultural hot spot of Europe’s newest paean of success. But despite my love for the gregarious Irish and my fascination with their intrepid progress in the face of ageless hindrances - after I tire of the constant showers of the West Coast, I won’t duck into any more pubs. Neither will I pontificate beneath any more awnings - I’ll just buy an umbrella and move on through the storm.