The Ancestral Homeland(?)

Sunday, August 6, 2023 – Kenmare to Galway

We were back on the road Sunday. First on our itinerary: the Cliffs of Moher. We set out early, and it’s a good thing we did—by the time we arrived, the parking lot was nearing capacity. The cliffs were as stunning as expected, their dramatic drops and sweeping views over the Atlantic were captivating. However, the sheer number of visitors was a stark contrast to the quieter, more intimate experience Aaron and I had visiting cliffs in County Donegal a few years back. Still, crowded or not, the Cliffs of Moher are a sight that’s well worth the visit.

From the cliffs, we continued north along the scenic coast to Ballyvaughan. As soon as we parked the car on the edge of town, Chrissy spotted two donkeys in a nearby field and bolted out of the car to take pictures. Meanwhile, I took a moment to engage in the less glamorous tasks of setting the parking brake and locking the car. Two older women sitting on a nearby bench watched the scene unfold. Gesturing toward Chrissy, I joked, “You’d think we don’t have donkeys in America.” Chrissy heard me and said “are you making fun of me?” The ladies chuckled, and one responded warmly, “Those are cute donkeys. You do what you want and don’t pay any attention to him.” Laughter all around—another simple yet cherished moment with strangers.

“Bally” means “town,” so Ballyvaughan translates to “Vaughan Town.” A couple of years ago, I asked my mom to help trace the Vaughan family history. We tracked our branch to Canada but lost the theread and couldn’t find a link to Europe. Apparently the Vaughan name originated in Wales and the Vaughans branched out to England, Scotland, and Ireland. Since I have a deep affinity for Guinness and Jameson and not nearly as much of a taste for scotch or gin, I’ve decided—completely scientifically—that we must hail from the Irish Vaughans. I don’t need to be confused by DNA tests or any other evidence that might indicate otherwise.

Ballyvaughan, then, must be my ancestral hometown. It’s small, and being a Sunday, most places were closed. Still, we managed to find ice cream and Guinness, ensuring a proper visit to the homeland. We also came across a building labeled J. M. Mooney & Sons. It’s likely the Vaughans and Mooneys intermingled long before Chrissy and me.

After bidding farewell to the hometown, we headed toward our final stop of the day: Galway. Little did we know when planning this trip that Monday was an August bank holiday and we’d arrive on the final day of Galway Race Week, an annual horse-racing event that draws massive crowds. The city was bustling, brimming with energy.

Despite the crowds, we enjoyed exploring the Latin Quarter nightlife district and capped off the day with a delicious meal. The combination of lively streets and good food made for a memorable ending to a day filled with natural beauty, donkey encounters, and a personal connection to the Vaughan Irish history.