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'If you ever go across the sea to Ireland
It may be at the closing of the day
You can sit and watch the moon rise over Claddagh
And watch the sun go down over Galway Bay.'

Arthur Colahan, 'Galway Bay', 1947

Approaching Galway city from the east, the train passed along Galway Bay. The powerful sun reflected on the wet sands left exposed by the retreating tide as the fishermen, identifiable only by their black outlines, returned home. Farther out, the sun traced a mystical pathway across the gentle waves, inviting the train's passengers to escape their earthly problems in the quest of the eternal fire.

Those who accept the sun's daring invite miss out on the attractions of one of Europe's fastest growing cities, and the fourth-largest city in Ireland, after Cork, Dublin and Limerick. Galway's lively atmosphere was the attraction to us students having recently finished exams - the city has traditionally attracted a bohemian mix of street performers, artists, musicians and young people, the latter due to the presence of the university.

Coaches and trains disgorge their loads at Ceannt Railway Station, which leads onto Galway's landmark: Eyre Square. The square is currently being restored and, amidst the chaos and dust of which arises from building work, an imaginative work of art which is supposed to represent a 'hooker', a traditional Galway sailing vessel.

Galway has a compact town centre which lies between Eyre Square and the River Corrib. From Eyre Square, the meandering main street which has changed its name several times, is a haven of traditional pubs and modern restaurants, sought after by both tourists and Irish.

Galway grew from a small fishing village to become an important walled town when the Anglo-Normans captured territory from the local O'Flaherty's in 1232. The Irish word for 'outsiders' or 'foreigners' is 'gaill' which may be the origin of the city's name in Irish: Gaillimh.

Galway at the time was something of an outpost in the 'Wild West'. In 1396, Richard II granted a charter to the city, which effectively transferred power to fourteen merchant families or 'tribes'. This led to the name 'City of the Tribes', by which Galway is still known. These powerful families were mainly of English origin, and frequently clashed with Irish families in the surrounding areas. At one time, the city's western gate bore the prayer and warning 'From the fury of he O'Flaherty's, good Lord deliver us.' Galway remained prosperous due to its loyalty to the English Crown. However, the arrival of Oliver Cromwell (an Englishman who fought against the English royalty) marked the beginning of the city's downfall. Many important buildings were damaged, and Dublin and Waterford received much of the sea trade upon which Galway had built its success.

After depositing our bags in our hostel, conveniently located beside Eyre Square, we set out to…buy a towel! Yes, a member of our party was travelling with a suspiciously-small bag, and under cross-examination, the reason became clear. In fact, we were lucky to escape from the hostel, as the handle fell off our door, locking us inside!

After trailing down the pretty main street, we stopped to eat a delicious meal in a pizzeria. On our way, we passed Lynch's Castle. Parts of the old stone house, now a branch of Allied Irish Bank, date back to the 14th Century’s most of the present building, said to be one of the finest town castles in Ireland, dates from around 1600. The Lynch family were one of the most powerful of the 14 ruling Galway 'tribes', and members of the family held the position of mayor no less than 60 times between 1480 and 1650. Lynch's Castle has a number of fine stone features on its façade including the coats of arms of Henry VII and the Fitzgeralds of Kildare, as well as gargoyles, which are unusual in Ireland.

The Lynch aisle in the Protestant Collegiate Church of St Nicholas of Myra, located a few metres from Lynch's Castle, is said to be the resting place of James Lynch, a mayor of Galway in the 15th century who condemned his son, Walter, to death for killing a young Spanish visitor. None of the townsfolk would act as executioner, and the mayor was so dedicated to upholding justice that he personally acted as hangman.

This church is not only Galway's most important monument but also the largest medieval parish church in Ireland still in use. Under Cromwell's rule, horses were stabled in the church, and the church was severely damaged. Fourteen other Galway churches were burnt to the ground. The two church bells date from 1590 and 1630.

Our trek continued to the banks of the River Corrib, and it was easy to imagine the town in a busier, more vibrant time. We spotted the Spanish Arch, one of the few remaining portions of Galway's formerly extensive city wall. It appears to have been an extension of the walls through which ships unloaded their goods - often wine and brandy from Spain. We stopped and gazed on a flock of about fifty, peacefully drifting swans on the opposite shore. The opposite shore was the Cladagh, once a small fishing village.

Cladagh used to have its own costume and dialect, as well as its own king. Although the traditional Cladagh of thatched roofs, Irish speakers and fishing boats disappeared in the 1930's, the Cladagh ring is still popular among the Irish. The rings, with a crowned heart nestling between two outstretched hands, signify friendship (the hands), loyalty (the crown) and love (the heart). If the heart points away from the body, this signifies that the wearer is looking for a mate; if the heart points towards the body, this means that the person is 'spoken for' or married.

Off we set to Galway's pubs, looking for maybe that special person to slide the ring on our finger. There was neither a shortage of men or women. The recent Irish ban on smoking in enclosed spaces (apart from hotels, guesthouses and psychiatric homes) has banished the smokers to the street. Now the street is the place to be seen - the cool congregate around large gas heaters, which incidentally produce as much emissions of heat as your average insulated, double-glazed house seeks to prevent! As one Irish politician stated during our stay 'It's illogical to try to heat outside!' Smoking is the new speed-dating: a quick chat during a five-minute cigarette tells you the basics about a person, and during your next 'quickie', you meet someone else! There's nothing like a shared ailment - the perceived alienation of 'the evil weed' - to bring people together.

Galway's finest nightclubs are a demanding lot. We were turned away from the first place due to one measly pair of runners, and from the second for an inadequate proof of ID (fair enough, that is the law - only passports and driver's licences accepted). No such problems at the next joint we seized up as the bouncer uttered 'You're alright girls. Go on in.’ After shelling out the hefty sum of €8 we soon realised why - this was the local under-18 population's night spot. We beat a hasty retreat.

A good night's sleep back at the hostel seemed like an attractive prospect. We were sharing our room with three other backpackers of undetermined sex. After the label 'Peter' was spotted, the thought of sharing with three guys was too hairy for some to stomach, so we convinced ourselves that 'Peter' was short for 'Petrina'. No such luck - 'Peter' was indeed 'Peter'!

Later that morning, a worry was expressed that one of the 'dudes' would rob us. As one of the guys had a very covetable iPod, it would have been more likely that we rob them! The chances of a good night's sleep were rapidly diminishing! Our bedroom looked out onto the main road, and an open window was necessary to prevent the temperature in the room rising to tropical levels. Groups of romantic serenaders sporadically burst into song below the window, or football chants, if they were English soccer supporters. Noisy cars whisked past, and we were awakened by the skid of tyres and a bang, as a car ploughed into a wall. Remembering my manners and where I was, I resisted the urge to jump out of bed and race to the window. The following morning, our macabre tendencies were disappointed upon finding no trace of the accident.

Enter a group of rowdy Scotsmen, who could not gain access to their room (and fortunately not ours). However, I wished they would (their room, not ours) as they discussed rubbish incomprehensible to my half-awake state or their double-drunk state. Finally, the Scots were able to insert their key into the keyhole, putting to bed my fantast of running down to reception and having them evicted.

Saturday morning dawned bright and early, as it always does for hostel breakfasts. Our three male friends promptly jumped out of bed, and raced to the nearest McDonalds, returning twenty minutes later with three bottles of water. The mystery was never revealed.

That morning sun shone brightly on the newly washed cobbles, and swept away all the excesses of the night before. A little market tucked away in a side street offered organic eggs, herb bread and bright daffodils gaily dancing in the breeze. A walk along the banks of the Corrib showed the river in all its splendour - a shimmering waterfall descending from a garden exploding in a maze of colour, the famous Salmon's Leap, the dominating mass of Galway's Cathedral. The Cathedral, dedicated in 1965, is a mix of styles and ideas. Even its proper name is a mouthful: the Catholic Cathedral of Our Lady Assumed into Haven and St. Nicholas!

A Japanese tourist was feeding a large flock of ducks, as her companion took pictures. The ducks swam happily around, except for one aggressive duckling, who attempted to pull out the tail feathers of every duckling. A mother swan sought scraps for her cygnets, and their hunger sated, sailed regally away, a queen, followed by her fluffy grey subjects. As a little boy conducted an animated conversation with two ducks, we imagined that their animated quacking was the enthusiastic demand 'Bread bread bread bread!'

Galway is a beautiful city, a curious mix of new vibrancy and old traditions - narrow streets, old stone, excellent restaurants and heaving pubs. Its history is just visible enough to appease the weekenders, but scratch at the surface and a history is revealed, that like the English, will make you want to stay for good few years.