An unplanned route. A house on wheels. A country full of stories. New friends we met along the way. And two unforgettable weeks wandering Ireland’s wild beauty.
In April 2019, after months of hopping between continents and juggling logistics for other parts of our journey, Ireland was almost an afterthought.
We hadn’t planned a route, booked campsites, researched attractions, or even made a list of “must-sees.” Worst of all, we were heading there during Easter, who knew how busy it would be?
But there was one thing we were sure about:
We wanted a campervan and the freedom to explore.
So that’s exactly what we did.
For two weeks, we followed winding coastal roads, crossed counties without even realizing it, stumbled into local celebrations, explored ancient tombs and mystical stone circles, and met people who became friends. We baked in our tiny camper kitchen, chased sunsets from campgrounds, braved storms, and squeezed through impossibly narrow Irish roads with sheep watching us as if we were the entertainment.
This is the full story of our Irish campervan adventure, day by day, coast to coast.
We landed in Dublin eager to switch into road-trip mode. Our first day was simple: walking around the city, soaking in the architecture, and raising our glasses to the journey ahead.
One of my favorite things about arriving in a new place is simply observing, discovering the tiny details that make a city unique. For example, Dublin’s name comes from the Old Irish “Dubh Linn,” meaning “black pool,” referring to a dark tidal pond used by the Vikings. It’s wild to think that this vibrant, modern city was once a Viking settlement.
We didn’t make big sightseeing plans; everyone was too excited about starting our campervan adventure, and coming straight from Iceland, we needed a bit of time to adjust. So we wandered, looked around, and enjoyed just being present.
The next day, we picked up our campervan. Six months earlier, we had traveled through Australia and New Zealand the same way (check our blog post about it here), and as soon as we stepped inside our new “home on wheels,” that same rush of joy washed over us. Campervan life suits us, the freedom, the spontaneity, and the feeling that each morning can begin somewhere entirely new. Little did we know at the time how much this passion for van life would shape our future travels.
This is one of the things I love about writing these posts years later: you can see the evolution of a tiny idea into a significant change.
But I’m digressing… back to Dublin.
Newgrange wasn’t in our original plan (because we barely had one), but a woman at the visitor center insisted we go. Thankfully, we listened.
Newgrange is older than both the pyramids of Giza and Stonehenge, dating back to around 3200 BC. Its most astonishing feature is its perfect alignment with the rising sun on the winter solstice, a moment when sunlight floods the inner chamber, illuminating stones that have stood for thousands of years.
We also got in for free because the visitor center was undergoing restoration, a lovely little surprise. It’s funny how, when something is meant to happen, everything seems to fall perfectly into place.
The kids found endless fields to run around in, reminding us once again that adventure lives just as much in their imagination as in the places themselves. I’m always amazed by how differently each of us experiences the same spot. There’s no better or worse way to explore, only the way that feels right to us and the way we’ll remember it years later. Every age brings its own way of seeing the world, and that’s part of the magic.
Leaving Dublin, we crossed into Northern Ireland, which is part of the United Kingdom, something that fascinates many travelers because you change countries without even realizing it. The road signs switch, the currency changes, yet the landscapes remain just as green and dramatic.
Driving a campervan through Belfast is… not recommended.
Parking was almost impossible, so we ended up leaving the van in a secured lot where we could also sleep and explore the city using public transportation.
That first evening, we met another family traveling around by campervan, originally from the Isle of Man. Our kids clicked instantly, and so did we. We spent hours chatting while the kids played, eventually remembering we should have dinner too. The next day, they headed home, and we set out to explore Belfast.
Our main stop was Titanic Belfast, built right on the site where the Titanic itself was constructed. The museum is extraordinary, emotional, immersive, and deeply connected to the city’s shipbuilding heritage.
A fun detail: the two massive yellow cranes at the shipyard, Samson and Goliath, are now among Belfast’s most iconic landmarks.
We also stepped aboard the SS Nomadic, known as the “mini Titanic” because it was designed by the same architect and once ferried first-class passengers to the Titanic on its final voyage.
Even though we didn’t walk much of the city itself, Belfast left a strong impression, modern, resilient, and full of stories.
Leaving Belfast, we joined the stunning Causeway Coastal Route, following the shoreline toward Northern Ireland’s northern tip. This drive is famous for good reason: rugged cliffs, rolling green hills, tiny villages, and one unforgettable view after another.
Fun fact: this route passes close to the Giant’s Causeway, formed by 40,000 interlocking basalt columns; legend says Irish giant Finn McCool built them to walk to Scotland.
We passed several castles along the way, but Dunluce Castle was the one that stopped us in our tracks. Perched dramatically on sheer cliffs, it looks like something straight out of a fantasy novel. Standing there, trying to imagine how anyone could have built a fortress in such a precarious spot, was awe-inspiring.
The only downside to this gorgeous route? Many scenic parking areas were closed to campervans, a recurring theme throughout Northern Ireland. Sometimes we had to admire the views from a distance, but even then, the landscape was breathtaking.
We ended the day in Portsalon, home to one of the world’s most beautiful beaches (as named by The Observer). Even the cows seemed to have front-row seats to the perfect sunset.
This was the moment our spontaneity finally had a name: the Wild Atlantic Way.
Stretching along Ireland’s entire western coast and part of the south, this route became the backbone of our trip.
Fun fact: At over 2,500 km (1,550 miles), the Wild Atlantic Way is one of the longest defined coastal routes in the world, no wonder it felt endless in the best possible way.
We didn’t plan stops. We didn’t choose destinations. We simply drove, sometimes slowly, sometimes nervously, along narrow roads framed by ancient stone walls, sheep and cows wandering freely, and sweeping ocean cliffs that made us gasp.
Green fields rolled endlessly toward the horizon. The ocean danced beside us. And every so often, an old stone bridge or crumbling tower appeared out of nowhere, like a small reminder of Ireland’s layered, centuries-old history.
We spent the night in Portnoo, ending the day with sunshine and sandy feet.
The water was freezing, of course, but that didn’t stop the kids from running straight into it.
One thing we’ve learned through our travels is that “driving days” are rarely dull. Sometimes the magic lies in simply watching the world pass by, seeing landscapes shift, light change, and realizing you’re somewhere completely new. Even without a destination, the journey itself becomes the experience.
Donegal gifted us one of the sweetest, most serendipitous moments of the entire trip.
We had stopped for groceries, and while walking through town, a woman approached us and asked if the kids wanted to join the community Easter Egg Hunt happening in the nearby forest. We had absolutely no idea it was even happening.
She personally walked us there.
The forest was dotted with tiny fairy doors, which felt perfectly fitting since Donegal is part of one of Ireland’s largest Gaeltacht regions, where Irish folklore, fairies, and traditional stories are still very much part of daily life. The kids ran freely between the trees, and I kept expecting an actual fairy to pop out… honestly, it wouldn’t have surprised me. It was a truly magical Easter surprise.
Later, we passed Classiebawn Castle in Mullaghmore, a dramatic, fairy-tale-like castle perched above the sea. It sits on a privately owned estate, so it’s one of those places you admire from a distance, which honestly makes it even more mysterious. We then made our way to Claddagh House B&B in Ballina. Louise had responded to my Facebook post a few days earlier, kindly inviting us to park our camper in her backyard. Her B&B was full, but her yard wasn’t.
That evening, we experienced true Irish hospitality: tea, conversation, laughter, and endless playtime with her two labs, Hannah and Molly. It felt like visiting family.
And to this day, we’re still in contact with her. I’ll always be grateful for her kindness and open heart, especially because everything was booked for Easter and, thanks to my brilliant planning (great job, Sarah!), we had nowhere else to park that night. Louise truly saved us!
Downpatrick Head was the definition of wild Ireland: dramatic cliffs, a roaring ocean, and wind that nearly carried our jackets away.
Fun fact: Downpatrick Head was once a place of pilgrimage, and Saint Patrick himself is said to have founded a church here. You can still see the ruins near the cliff edge.
One of the most fascinating features is the blowhole called “Poll na Seantainne”, a huge circular opening in the ground carved by centuries of waves crashing through tunnels below. It wasn’t active during our visit, but knowing the ocean was thundering beneath our feet definitely added to the thrill.
The highlight, of course, was Dún Briste, a massive sea stack rising out of the water like a giant stone pillar. The kids, especially Luca, kept trying to figure out how to reach it. (For the record, there is absolutely no way to get there, and that’s probably for the best.)
The hike along the cliffs was exhilarating and a little nerve-wracking for me, but the kids loved every second.
Later, the drive to Silver Strand Beach stunned us with sweeping views.
Still no cinematic sheep-crossing moment, yes, I’ve clearly watched way too many movies set in Ireland, although we did have a sheep leap dramatically into the road. Close enough.
We checked into Salthill Caravan Park, a peaceful spot overlooking the ocean and just a short drive from Galway. We chose this campsite very intentionally. After a week of terrible sulphuric hair from Iceland, we desperately needed a proper hairdresser. (Three hot springs + three kids who insist on going underwater every time = disaster. I still feel bad for the poor hairdresser who had to deal with the knots, the smell, and the texture.)
Within minutes of parking, Luca threw a ball into the water, only to realize there was no beach to retrieve it from. Campervan life always comes with a bit of comedy.
Galway itself is vibrant and full of life. Fun fact: Galway is officially known as Ireland’s Cultural Heart, famous for its festivals and the sheer number of musicians who fill its pedestrian streets every day. And yes, we heard plenty of them while wandering around town.
We didn’t rush through museums or major attractions. Instead, our mission was hair rescue. We found a kind, patient hairdresser who bravely took on the kids’ sulphur-damaged Icelandic hair. A few treatments, a lot of brushing, and probably a silent prayer later, everyone smelled normal again, maybe even better than normal.
Afterward, we wandered the busy streets, listened to street performers, peeked into wool shops (Galway has some of the best), enjoyed lunch, and headed back to our campsite refreshed and clean. Sometimes the simplest travel days are the ones you remember fondly.
That evening, while cooking at the campsite, we heard someone speaking Italian. We turned around and met another traveling family, this time from Milan, and soon discovered we were heading in the same direction. The kids were about the same age and clicked instantly, and just like that, our unplanned adventure gained new friends and travel companions for the next few days.
This is what we stopped to visit on this travel day, a full mix of castles, caves, and iconic Irish landscapes, each with its own story to tell.
Dunguaire Castle
Located on the shores of Galway Bay, Dunguaire Castle dates back to 1520 and is considered one of the most photographed castles in Ireland thanks to its postcard-perfect setting. The castle was named after the legendary King Guaire of Connacht, whose royal palace once stood nearby.
In the early 20th century, the castle became a gathering place for Ireland’s leading writers, including W.B. Yeats, George Bernard Shaw, and J.M. Synge, making it an important site in the Celtic Revival movement.
With its curtain walls, narrow staircases, and cleverly designed murder holes, the tower house gave us a vivid look into medieval life. The furnished rooms helped the kids imagine what living inside a stone castle must have been like centuries ago.
Aillwee Cave
Next, we made our way to Aillwee Cave, one of Ireland’s oldest discovered cave systems. It was found in 1944 when a farmer followed his dog, who was chasing a rabbit, only for the dog to lead him straight into a vast underground world. Inside, we explored winding passages, underground rivers, and a surprisingly powerful waterfall. One of the most fascinating parts was seeing the bear hibernation chambers. Before Ireland’s forests were cleared, brown bears roamed the land, and this cave was once a winter den.
Fun fact: Some of the calcite formations deep inside the cave are estimated to be over 350,000 years old.
The kids, of course, loved the idea that bears once slept right under their feet.
Cliffs of Moher
Finally, we arrived at the legendary Cliffs of Moher, and Ireland gave us the full dramatic experience: sideways rain, powerful winds, and dark clouds swirling over the Atlantic. Honestly, the weather made the cliffs feel even more awe-inspiring, like something out of a movie.
These cliffs stretch for 14 kilometers and reach heights of 214 meters (702 feet), dropping straight into the ocean below. They are also home to one of Ireland’s largest seabird colonies, including puffins during breeding season.
The visitor center was excellent, warm, well-designed, and full of fascinating exhibits that helped us understand the geology, wildlife, and history of the cliffs. We spent extra time inside to dry off… and to recover from the wind trying to blow us away.
After a very wet but memorable day, we continued south and settled into a peaceful campsite in Doonbeg, grateful for hot showers and dry clothes.
We boarded the Killimer–Tarbert Ferry, a quick and easy 20-minute crossing that saved us over 130 km of driving around the Shannon Estuary.
Fun fact: This crossing has been operating since the 1800s, making it one of Ireland’s longest-running car ferry routes. Today, it serves as an essential link between County Clare and County Kerry, and it’s especially popular with campervans and road-trippers because it cuts so much time off the journey.
You drive onto the ferry, stay in your car, and someone comes by to collect payment. It’s simple, smooth, and a fun break from driving.
Once across, we made our way to Ballybunion Beach, where the sunshine finally returned. The kids ran wild, climbing dunes, exploring the ruins of the old castle, and being barefoot (of course).
Another fun detail: Ballybunion is known for its seaweed baths, a local tradition for over a century, believed to help with circulation and skin health. We didn’t try one this time, but it’s definitely something to come back for.
It was one of those simple, happy afternoons that make travel days feel like mini-adventures of their own.
We spent time with our new Italian friends celebrating their son’s 18th birthday, a milestone made even more special by the fact that we were all thousands of kilometers from home, sharing a kitchen in a campsite. We even managed to bake a little cake in our campervan (proof that anything is possible with enough determination… and a tiny oven!).
Meeting them was such a gift. The kids bonded instantly, and so did we, turning those few days on the road into laughter-filled adventures. These are the moments full-time travel gives you, instant connections that become lifelong memories. But as always with travel friendships, there eventually comes a moment to say goodbye. They headed back home, and we continued on our route to finish our final days in Ireland.
Despite weather alerts predicting a severe storm, we still drove to see the Drombeg Stone Circle, also known as the Druid’s Altar. We arrived soaking wet, but thrilled.
Fact: Drombeg is one of Ireland’s best-preserved stone circles, and on the winter solstice, the setting sun aligns perfectly with the recumbent stone, revealing its ancient astronomical purpose. The stones were mystical in the rain, and standing there imagining ceremonies from 3,000 years ago made the soaking clothes worth it.
When the weather turned even worse (Ireland wanted to make sure we remembered her!), we escaped to a movie theater and watched Wonder Park, lovingly chosen by Cosimo and Emma so Luca could enjoy it too. A perfect cozy ending to a very stormy day.
Since we knew the oven worked, we baked some muffins in the campervan that morning (and yes, we licked the batter). Then we headed to Blarney Castle, which turned out to be a pretty amazing stop.
The gardens felt enchanted, with lush paths, towering trees, winding walkways, and hidden corners that made it feel like we’d stepped straight into a storybook. The rain would disappear, then return, then vanish again, giving everything a soft, ethereal glow.
The kids invented “plant umbrellas.” Luca tried protecting himself with two sticks. It… did not work.
We spent hours wandering the estate, taking photos, exploring, and soaking in the history of the site.
A bit of history: The current Blarney Castle was built in 1446 by Cormac Láidir MacCarthy, the King of Munster. It’s actually the third castle to stand on this site; the first was a wooden fort from the 10th century, and the second was a stone structure that didn’t survive. This version has stood for nearly six centuries, witnessing battles, sieges, political intrigue, and generations of legends.
And, of course, there’s the Blarney Stone, famous for granting the “gift of eloquence” to anyone who kisses it. The tradition is centuries old, and while we didn’t kiss it ourselves, it was fun watching others bravely lean backward over the drop to reach it.
Between the myths, the history, and the magical grounds, Blarney Castle quickly became one of those places we wished we had more time for.
On our final day, we followed a roadside sign for a castle and ended up at Carrigafoyle Castle, a towering ruin with a dramatic, and very bloody, past. Built in the late 1400s by the O’Connor Kerry family, it once guarded the shipping lanes leading to Limerick.
Fact: In 1580, the castle endured a brutal two-day siege during the Desmond Rebellions. English forces attacked with heavy cannon fire, one of the earliest recorded uses of large artillery in Ireland, causing part of the tower to collapse and leading to a devastating loss of life.
Today, the remains stand silent above the estuary, windswept and imposing. The kids didn’t care that most of the structure was gone; they invented games among the stones, turning the ruins into their own adventure playground.
That evening, we reached Kilkenny, one of Ireland’s best-preserved medieval towns.
Fun fact: Kilkenny is often called “The Marble City” because of the polished black limestone used in many of its historic buildings.
The town’s narrow lanes, castle views, and vibrant pubs made it the perfect final stop on our trip.
Before leaving Ireland, we made sure to raise a celebratory glass, a Guinness for Mass and a Kilkenny for me.
Another fun detail: The beer Kilkenny was originally brewed by monks at St. Francis Abbey, right in the heart of the city, making it the perfect local toast.
It was the ideal ending to a journey that began with no plan at all, just curiosity, a campervan, and the open Irish road.
What began as an unplanned detour, squeezed between other destinations, barely researched, and booked during Easter of all times, became one of the most memorable chapters of our travels. Ireland didn’t need a perfect itinerary to impress us. It simply needed open roads, a campervan, and our willingness to follow wherever the day led.
From ancient tombs older than the pyramids, to windy cliffs and mystical stone circles…
From fairy forests and random castle stops, to strangers who became friends overnight…
From baking in a tiny campervan to hair emergencies and rainstorms that turned into adventures…
Ireland surprised us at every turn.
Along the way, we met people who opened their homes and hearts, from locals who guided us to hidden places, to fellow travelers whose children played with ours like they’d known each other forever. Those spontaneous friendships became some of the brightest memories of our trip. It’s amazing how quickly connections form when you’re all living on the road, following the same spirit of curiosity and freedom.
Ireland reminded us that some of the best journeys aren’t the ones planned months ahead, but the ones we stumble into, the ones shaped by kindness, spontaneity, and the magic of simply being present.
We arrived with no expectations.
We left with full hearts, muddy shoes, new friendships, and the kind of memories that stay with you for years.
Ireland, thank you for the stories, the storms, the sunshine, the sheep, the laughter, and the serendipity.
We’ll be back, next time maybe with a little more planning… or maybe not.
