Luck of the Irish

Fine, maybe 82 degrees is not that hot. The problem izzz, the online temperatures do not reflect the heat on my back at the hottest parts o the day, and they're usually off by a good 5+ degrees anyway... but moving forward!

So, guess where I was this past weekend?? Ireland!! (That's the River Liffey to the left!!) And all weekend I was saying to myself, I'm in friggin' Ireland?!?!? As luck would have it, it did NOT rain, although the forecast was absolutely full of raindrops and cloudiness. So I got a sunny, if windy and chilly, weekend in Dublin, reuniting with a friend I've known since pre-school... and I'm about to be 25, so this is the longest running friendship that's not kin.

Thoughts on Dublin...











It really reminded me of Boston... in a good way, because I didn't always like Boston. My first impressions of Boston were bastante mal, but after I started exploring the city, feeling more of its energy and taking in whatever beauty I could find, I kinda started to like it, and the people who made it come alive. Needless to say, I didn't have a whole year in Dublin, just three days, but stepping out onto O'Connell Street gave me major flashbacks of Massachusetts Avenue in Cambridge/Boston.

There were other areas like Trinity College, that reminded me of Harvard in a major way, and the surrounding/outlying neighborhoods that sort of reminded me of the outter edges of Boston. Again, I was loving the diversity, although sticking out in a crowd is something I've become so accustomed to that I feel a little odd when no one walks by shouting "guapa" or when old people walk on by, instead of stopping, stunned, in their tracks. I walked through city streets and saw tons of statues and monuments in the heart of the city - from the Spire on O'Connell to the Tart with the Cart, the Hags with the Bags, and a nighttime stroll through Trinity College.

Outside of Dublin, I got acquainted with the Wicklow Mountains, Powerscourt Estate, Glendalough, and several (that's an understatement) flocks of sheep and lamb. I especially enjoyed a random sighting of a billy goat and two little ones following it. The Wicklow bus tour that took me to all the aforementioned naturaleza definitely satisfied my inner hippie.









Then yesterday, my third day there, I took a tour of the Guinness storehouse to see what many call the pride of Dublin - Guinness stout and draft. Later I walked towards the shopping zones (it's a problem, I know. My first job in life was in retail...it's like a magent for me): Grafton, Abbey, and Nassau Streets, looking for souvenirs, postcards and a ring. I decided I'd look for a ring, and ended up with not only that, but some perfect mugs, an amaaaazing bracelet, and un monton de postcards (because I'd already finished writing out the eight I purchased the day before...).

Afterwards, I went to the International Bar because I'd seen a sign outside for a comedy show. Emphasis on comedy show. What I ended up seeing was called: The New York Monologues, and was a play about a high school class in 2051 recounting the history of 9/11 in the U.S. I felt a little conflicted about their depiction of events, I guess because I wonder if that's how people view the U.S. from abroad. Whatever it was, I decided it was ultimately a good production, well-acted, and clearly it hit a nerve somewhere in me, which I think any quality piece of work has to strive to and succeed at doing.

After the play, I wandered around the north and south sides of the River Liffey before journeying to the Cobblestone, a bar on the other side of town where a group of women had gathered to play and sing traditional Irish music. I was reminded of how lots of times in Bollullos, and quite possibl all of Andalucia, people get together and sing flamenco music, or Sevillanas. We made it back to my friend's place by 11pm or midnight, and my throat soon realized the healing effects of a "hot whiskey"... who knew? The next day was the trip to the airport, flying back to Sevilla, a bus tour of the so-famous city that I just can't bring myself to fall in love with, an enlightening conversation with a Sevilla tour guide from Senegal, and al final the bus trip back to Bollullos, and a change-over in Almonte to ride with the freshest bus driver out, Manolo. I mean he's married and still flirting shaaamelessly. Nothing new. The Andaluz clearly kept it scandalous while I was gone.

All in all, a quality trip. Introspective, exploratory, familiar in a foreign sort of way, and a reunion on many levels. I never expected I'd be in Ireland, let alone Dublin or Wicklow, but I'm very glad I went and got to see more of the world and in a way come to terms, at least for a while, with the adventure that is my life. I'm tempted to say this is not exactly the dream I had envisioned, but then I remember that I have always wanted a job that allows me to travel - even if the traveling has nada que ver with my actual trabajo - y aqui estoy;) Muy bien hecho, if I might say so myself.