Solo staycationing in the era of COVID-19.

Even now as I write this, I’m jealous of my past self, so I can only imagine how envious people are going to be reading this. I apologise in advance. We’re now two weeks into a national lockdown, though several counties had faced stricter restrictions than my home county of Leitrim did. That being said, myself and most of the people I know have more or less been in a personal lockdown since March.

Bar a few trips to friends in Dublin when restrictions lifted during the summer, I’ve barely been anywhere besides local walks and grocery runs. Stark contract to the start of 2020 when I was living in London, working in a busy co-working space that I would ride a crowded Tube to, and socialising in some of the most poppin’ spots. It almost feels like a different lifetime now. You can read more about my lockdown misery here, should you feel like depressing yourself!

Speaking of misery (always a great way to start a paragraph!), it, along with deep sadness, anxiety, frustration, boredom and a few other negative emotions were pretty much all I was feeling as COVID-19 cases in Ireland rose. Suddenly I began to deeply regret my decision to not avail of a “staycation” while I could’ve during the summer. A few days away in West Cork or Wicklow would’ve been lovely, but it was too late for that now, and I was restricted to Co. Leitrim.

At first, this sounds worse than it is. Although Leitrim isn’t the most hip and happenin’ spot noted for its thriving nightlife, a busy sociable holiday was the last thing I wanted. To be honest, paying to go away for a few days and do nothing but sleep and read and sit quietly on my own always felt like a waste of money. And maybe it’s lockdown, or maybe it’s turning 30 that’s changed me, but suddenly, doing all of the aforementioned sounded perfect.

After two nights of barely sleeping and feeling particularly claustrophobic, I called Lough Rynn Castle just outside of Mohill in Co. Leitrim. Embarrassed that I was inquiring about last-minute offers on a hotel 8 kilometres from my house, the receptionist immediately made me feel at ease and like it wasn’t the most ridiculous call she’s answered that day (even though it probably was). She told me the price and I quickly made the toss up between it being the silliest money I’d ever spend, or the most worthwhile. Well readers, I am pleased to tell you it was the latter.

I packed up my overnight bag and off I set for my big “holiday”. My dad waved me off and my mother made me promise to call that night to let her know I got settled in okay, and off I set for my 16-minute journey. Exciting scenes, adventure and freedom awaited. Down. The. Feckin’. Road. *eye roll*

To my joy, I had been upgraded to a lakeview room in the main house that had recently been redecorated with embossed wallpaper and bead-trimmed velvet curtains. Sure enough, a view of Rinn Lough could be seen through the old-timey paned windows. You could’ve easily mistaken the room for the set design of a period drama, and I was more than happy to channel my inner Keira Knightly for the next two nights.

I settled in and unpacked my essentials (not just one skincare mask, but two. My Voya travel candle. And my “I don’t really know if I believe in them, but they’re worth a shot I guess” crystals). I ran a bath, listened to a Deliciously Ella podcast, wrote in my journal and leafed through my book of choice; Pierce & Ward’s A Tale Of Interiors. Apart from the waiter delivering my room service, I didn’t see a single person for the rest of the night. You’d think that after months of rural Irish lockdown, I wouldn’t want this, but whaddaya know, I do!

That uninterrupted silence and time to regroup was what I desperately needed. And I don’t think I was alone. Lockdown has been incredibly tough on all of us, and many of us are quarantined in household set-ups that are unfamiliar to us. Not only are we staying at home, but everyone around us is too. Do the math, and it basically equates to none of us having any alone time for months on end. And as an the most INFJiest INFJ, this has been one of the aspects of lockdown I’ve found most challenging.

The next two days were spent wandering the stunning walled gardens, listening to Folklore on repeat and drinking coffee alone. Or, as you might say, living up to all of my stereotypes! As I’ve gotten older, I’ve fallen more and more in love with nature walks. There’s something about seeing things you know to be beautiful not in bloom all the time that makes me think that this life is okay. Maybe it’s not wonderful or what I wanted right now, but by next spring a little bit of colour might grow?

Another thing that caused my mind to wander was thinking back to how I used to visit the gardens as a child, and my dad would jokingly offer us 10p if we could climb the tallest tree there. At least I hope he was joking. Or how I used to babysit there as a teenager and throughout my college years. Meeting couples in their thirties who lived in glamourous places like Dublin or London was not only an exciting experience, but a formative one too. I fancied myself as the “resident Mary Poppins” and spent most weekends there, babysitting for kids whose parents were down the hall at a wedding reception or having a nice grown-up dinner. Whatever people in their thirties did.

And just like that, I am now the one booking hotel rooms, I’m 30, and I’ve lived in both Dublin and London. Instead of tucking their children into the luxurious bed, I tucked myself in. What a glow-up, eh?! I guess sometimes retracing old ground to see how far you’ve come is constructive. Taking a beat to write down how you’re feeling without being interrupted or distracted by “real life” is beneficial. And hopefully sharing it on your website in hopes that it will give readers something to think about maybe doing for themselves once lockdown ends is helpful?

(I should hope it goes without saying that this post was in no way sponsored or requested by Lough Rynn. My past work with the media has, luckily, brought me away to some of the most gorgeous venues on their dime. But for this, I paid and was happy to do so.)