I don’t even know where to begin.
It’s strange being here. I’m torn between feeling perfectly normal and horribly out of place. The range of emotions I’ve felt has gone from crying for joy to frustration to disgust to loneliness to content. Here’s how.
The hostel I booked to stay in is located literally four doors from my old apartment on North Great George’s St. When I got off the bus to head to the hostel yesterday, I honestly felt like I was coming home after a long vacation. I walked past the same buildings, smelt cookies baking in the Subway in the Londis, didn’t look to cross the street, and greeted the blue off-license with a smile. North Great George’s looks the exact same. The colorful Adamesque doors are so welcoming and quaint. But I didn’t walk to my apartment. I knew that I did not belong there. Instead I stopped four doors early at the hostel.
By the time I’d changed, brushed my teeth and dumped my stuff in the luggage room, it was 9.45am 0n a Sunday in Ireland. Literally NOTHING is open before 10 or 11.00am on Sundays in Ireland. You can’t even buy beer until noon. So when I headed
People watching is probably one of my most favorite things to do while traveling. You learn so much about other cultures and humans in general. I saw a man on FaceTime with his family. He had no shame in making faces to his children and being all lovey dovey in front of the coffee shop. Two separate Spanish families began speaking to each other in rapid Spanish. The small boy kept giving his mom the cream fizz from the stir. Two English couples sat to my left talking about their trip to Ireland. It was so pleasant.
Around 11.00am I headed back into town. I wanted to check out all of my old hangouts. The first place
I did visit Stephen’s Green, but it was so crowded. Even on a gloomy buy dry November day it was packed with people. I wandered through Grafton St admiring the shops with Christmas decorations and trinkets. And around 12.30pm I ended up back at the hostel. As I walked back to the hostel, it hit me that again I was not going to my apartment. I would be on the same road, so the walk back felt totally normal, but the end location is what felt strange. I was at home, but I wasn’t at the same time.
At 1.30pm I walked over to Woolshed to meet Amore for lunch. Woolshed was one of my many
After lunch I headed back to the hostel. Jet lag had finally caught up to me. I officially checked in, crawled into bed, and was asleep a little after 4.00pm. I woke up around 9.00pm and did some school work and was back asleep by midnight. All to wake up AGAIN at 4.00 in the morning for a flight to Scotland, which did not happen.
I have been awake since 4.ooam and it’s currently 7.30am. I should be about to land in Edinburgh to see Aoibhin, but I’m not. I’m back in the hostel. Somehow I mixed up my travel dates. I thought I had tickets to Edinburgh for Monday when in reality, I bought tickets for TUESDAY. I got all the way to the stupid airport only to find that I cannot fly. I was so pissed at myself.
So here I am a perfect (almost) 24 hours later on my return trip to Dublin. I now have a whole extra day here, which is nice! I’m taking my travel date mix up as a sign that I need to take some time to work on school stuff. So that’s that. Here’s to another day in Dublin!