By Diane Hartman
When I made my first of four solo trips to Ireland I had no idea what I was getting myself into. For years I had longed to visit Ireland after falling in love with its music, Celtic spirituality and culture. I didn’t understand why, but Ireland felt like my spiritual home. I didn’t know anyone there and, although there were rumors of my family having ancestry there, nothing definitive had been researched at the time.
Finally I decided that I was tired of waiting for the right time and the right person to travel with me. I threw my fears and finances to the wind and purchased a one-week fly-and-drive package into Shannon Airport that included a manual transmission rental car and vouchers for Farmhouse Bed & Breakfasts.
This first trip was all about fighting my fear of driving Ireland’s narrow, twisting and turning roads. I had underestimated my ability to drive on the other side of the road while shifting gears with my left hand. I also entered a roundabout the wrong way just outside Limerick, not realizing that counterclockwise is the American way of entering a roundabout, but the European way is to enter clockwise.
Much confusion ensued including shouts of “Woman, yer going the wrong way!” I was both the driver and the navigator in the days before navigation systems became the norm, which would have been exhausting for anyone, but especially for an introvert. I taped directions to my dashboard and hoped for the best, but I had to make frequent stops to ask for assistance when I wasn’t sure if I was on the correct road.
The people I asked were gracious and eager to help. Some even invited me into their homes for tea. They told me how brave I was to be traveling alone, but I felt totally safe in Western Ireland. (I’d have been more guarded in a big city such as Dublin.)
On my second trip the following summer, I stayed for two weeks and had enough sense to pay a little extra for an automatic transmission car. I still had to drive on the other side of the road, but not having to shift with my left hand and press on the clutch freed up some of my energy.
I drove throughout Counties Clare, Galway, Mayo and Sligo exploring the unimaginable beauty of the Atlantic coast and the inland villages in Yeats and Joyce country. Still, I was lonely at times and found myself talking into my tape recorder while driving to quell my negative thoughts.
The main difference on my second trip is that I had been introduced by mutual friends to some people in County Clare who ended up becoming great friends. It was wonderful to have friends to visit with to help break up the solitude of traveling alone.
Still, meeting people, be it new friends or just conversing with a stranger in a pub, is exhausting for an introvert. There was the constant tension of having to pace myself and yet explore as much as possible within a two-week time frame.
I wanted to see what Ireland was like in the winter so I travelled back for a one week stay after Christmas. I travelled within the counties of Clare and Galway, visited my new friends and stayed at inns within walking distance of pubs providing me with the opportunity for more sociable evenings.
As with my other solo trips to Ireland, I enjoyed having the freedom to do what I wanted when I wanted. However, I discovered that Irish winters, though milder, are as dreary as the winters in my home state of Indiana. The only advantage was that it was the off-season and the roads were free of traffic, making the driving much easier.
A few years later I received a teacher creativity grant that allowed me to stay in Ireland for almost a month. I took a photography workshop in County Clare and enjoyed long visits with my friends before turning in my rental car and traveling by bus to County Cork for a writing workshop in the Beara Peninsula where I wouldn’t need a car.
Taking public transportation, be it by bus or van, freed me from the stress of driving, but having to haul my luggage, determine bus schedules, handle transfers, and arrange to travel to a remote village by taxi-van for the workshop created its own stresses. I was confused about which bus to get on when I transferred, almost missing the bus, and my suitcase kept tipping over on the stern-looking woman sitting across from me on the crowded three-hour van trip to the Beara Peninsula.
This part of my trip was all about forming a tight-knit community with a small group of writers from Europe and the United States. We ate breakfast and dinner together, but we observed quiet hours during the day to write or explore the village. We shared our writing after dinner before making a nightly journey to the village pub.
This arrangement was just the right balance of solitude and community. Having to rely on others for transportation allowed me to take a day trip with a local photographer to explore the hidden treasures in the gorgeous countryside and to take a memorable trip with the workshop director, who also became a great friend, to the West Cork Literary Festival in Bantry.
I found that traveling solo in western and southwestern Ireland as an introverted woman was safe, and I would recommend it to anyone wanting to travel solo. I never felt harassed or in danger. The friendliness of the Irish people made conversation easy, and I was constantly in awe of the kindness of strangers.
Of course I was aware of my surroundings and selective about whom I engaged with, but being an introvert, while taking extra energy, didn’t interfere with my desire to meet interesting people and enjoy all of the good things that traveling in Ireland has to offer. I can’t wait to go back.
ABOUT THE BOOK: At 58, Diane Hartman was no stranger to heartbreak. A childhood shaped by her father’s suicide, followed decades later by a painful divorce, had left her feeling lost and unsure of what came next. But with her children and pets cared for, and a quiet longing that she could not shake, she finally listened to the voice inside her and booked a solo trip to Ireland.
In “Getting Lost On My Way: Self-Discovery on Ireland’s Backroads” (She Writes Press, September 30, 2025), Diane chronicles the soul-searching journeys that led her through Irish villages and misty cliffs, with her grief lingering in the background. Prompted by a famous Irish poet and philosopher to write not just about where she traveled, but how it changed her, Diane sets off with a journal, a deep love of Celtic culture, and a desire to begin again.
What she finds isn’t a perfect fairytale, but instead confusing road signs in Gaelic, wrong turns and unexpected disappointments. But there are moments of grace too, such as meaningful conversations in music-filled pubs, a long-awaited meeting with the sister of her favorite Irish musician, and a growing sisterhood with other creative, resilient women who reflect pieces of her own story.
“Getting Lost On My Way” is a deeply moving and often humorous story of a woman choosing to step outside her comfort zone and finding meaning, connection, and healing along the way. Follow Diane on Facebook and Instagram, and subscribe to her Substack.
