As soon as we got off the bus, Kila and I both had some exploring we wanted to do. Wandering through the city was one of them, but I wanted a sweater and a claddagh ring, after recently losing the one my mother bought me at the bar eating dirty ranch wings… which is another story in itself, and Kila wanted to find the Spanish Arch.
The claddagh is two hands; symbolizing friendship, holding a heart; symbolizing love, with a crown; symbolizing loyalty. These are three ideals I have lived by my whole life, and ones that my ancestors lived by dating back almost 300 years ago. The town of Claddagh is a small fishing village right across the river, in Galway making it semi inportant to me to get my ring there opposed to anywhere else. It was more meaningful, hopefully then I don’t leave it on a table.
The Spanish Arch however, we were looking for this huge Arch, for about twenty minutes, about to give up, I saw this artwork on this house right next to the river we were wandering about. It is a facing looking out of the windows, and next to it the bridge. I told Kila, I bet that tiny thing is the Arch, and what do you know, sure enough it was. Built in 1584, the Spanish Arch was designed to protect the quays. Before being called the Spanish Arch, which contains no Spanish significance, it was called the “Blind Arch”. Even before that it was called Ceann na Bhalla, which means “head of the wall”. Appropriately, it is next to a painting of a head on a wall of a house, now apart of the museum.
In the end, our adventuring came with great successes. I got my ring, and Kila got her not so archy Arch.
Not all who wander, are lost.