Sometimes your plans go to sh*t. Even the most type-A planner personalities are not immune to some of the absolute shenanigans that can hit you out of left field when you’re traveling. When these proverbial wrenches are thrown into your plans, sometimes the best path forward is to just go with the flow. That was the case for my friend and I on our Ireland roadtrip. An unexpected Iron Man shattered our original plans, but led us to the Cliffs of Moher.

And it was one of the greatest experiences.

This is that story!

The time we got the Cliffs of Moher all to ourselves because an Iron Man ruined our original plans.

The Cliffs of Moher. How did we end up here? I’ll tell you exactly how.

My friend and I arrived in the Dublin Airport at 11:27pm — too late to rent a car for the evening. We certainly had not accounted for THAT. With no where to go, and no accommodation in place, we decided to bunker down for the evening in the only place we could think of: baggage claim.

Our previous dwellings consisted entirely of cheap Amsterdam hostiles, so this was only one step… down. We posted up for the night wrapped in sleeping bags on airport benches, clutching our few belongings for dear life. Terminal 1 bayybeeee.

We awoke the next morning and hurried to the rental car station. Our original plan had been to spend a few days in Dublin, and eventually make our way north to Belfast.

Upon finally reaching our first campsite at 9am, we learned that Dublin was apparently hosting an Iron Man??!! And, because of the race, nearly the entire city was shutting down in anticipation. We had no back-up plan, so we asked the campsite owner where he recommended we should go.

“Ay, that would be the Cliffs and the South of the island!” He replied.

We looked at each other and shrugged in agreement. And that was that, our new itinerary was set — we were no longer going North. Instead we would head east to the Cliffs, and eventually loop back along the south of the country back to Dublin.

So off we went!

Driving horizontally across the county, through the fields and farms, blaring the Rolling Stones and snacking on Hunky Dorys. We had surprisingly beautiful weather, and rolled the windows down to catch the fresh air blowing past.

Four hours later, we arrived at the Cliffs of Moher — a place we had not originally intended on visiting. And that’s the beauty of improvisation and adapting. When your original plans to go sh*t, you open the opportunity to explore new places you might have otherwise missed.

Our original “itinerary” excluded the Cliffs of Moher. We were concerned we would run into large, overwhelming crowds (nearly 1.5 million people visit the cliffs each year). But, when an Iron Man demolishes your original plan, you have to adjust.

Luckily for us, it began raining just as we arrived at the cliffs.

I know what you’re thinking: how can we possibly consider getting poured on lucky?

Normally we wouldn’t. But a little rain meant no one else was there. Getting to explore one of the natural wonders of the world completely on our own was indescribable. A true once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

While our visibility was limited due to the blanket of fog stretching in front of us, it added to the magic. Almost like we were dropped straight into a fantasy or Lord-of-the-Rings-esque novel.

We spent nearly four hours hiking along the cliffside — zigging and zagging along the winding path. It’s always humbling to come face to face with ones own limitations. Standing on the edge of the cliff and gazing down into the churning waters below, you truly realize how small you are compared to the nature that was here so long before us.

The Cliff’s pathway is lined with rock cairns — small and large rock stacks arranged thoughtfully by travelers beforehand. I like to think these cairns were placed by others out of awe, and fun, and respect. We rarely have to look far to find beauty around us. It can come in the form of magnificent cliff faces, sapphire waters, intricate rock piles, or even tiny purple weed flowers growing on their own amongst the green.

Our trip at the Cliffs ended with a last-minute picnic of smoked and truffle gouda cheeses (carefully packed and brought with us from Amsterdam the day before) and Irish soda-bread we picked up at a convenience store on our roadtrip (the fact that you can buy soda bread at a convenience store here is enough in itself to convince me to move to Ireland).

That particular combination of cheese and soda bread is probably sacrilegious, but in that moment, it was complete perfection. Gordon Ramsay would approve. We laughedwhile we ate – recognizing how silly we looked, sharing old memories, and vowing to savor every moment we have on this adventure.

Eventually, we made our way back to the town of Doolin.

Google told us there was a small campsite on the outskirts. We pitched our tent on the east side of the site, next to a small bubbling creek and an old castle ruin. It was our first night ever using the new tent, and we could not think of a better destination for it’s first trip. We named the tent ‘The Donk’.

We still had a couple of hours of daylight left and eventually stumbled upon a small pub called Jack Monday’s. Despite the drop in temperature outside, the interior of the pub was warmed with a crackling fire, and was buzzing with conversation. Live music filled the air, and we could literally feel our spirits rising again. There was an energy to this place that was truly palpable.

It was at Jack Monday’s that we were taught by Dan, one of the bar patrons, how to correctly pour a Guinness “the Irish way”. We spent the next several hours chatting with Dan and the pub owner. The band began to play ‘American Pie’ – and we all got up out of our chairs to sing and dance.

It’s not often that we get to escape our every day responsibilities to explore somewhere completely new. Why spend any amount of the precious time we have on the road trying to perfect of control the unknown.

Sometimes, the best approach is to just throw your entire itinerary directly in the trash.

If you do, you might just end up eating gouda and soda-bread sandwiches on the edge of a cliff, or singing ‘American Pie‘ with strangers in a bar in Limerick, Ireland.

That’s all, folks!

I guess the moral of the story is ‘go with the flow’. When your original plans to absolutely to sh*t, that’s when the fun begins. There’s no telling where you’ll be swept off to next!

Have you ever had an itinerary or travel plan go belly up? Drop a comment below to share your experience!

If you’re visiting Ireland any time soon, check out my Southern Ireland Roadtrip guide here!