Exactly right. I have fallen in love. It was really only a matter of time, to the motification of my father, and his fears of my going abroad have yielded unmeasureable fruit. A feeling I had only comprehended in literature but never truly understood. Until now.
I have fallen in love with Ireland. I don't believe in love at first glance, but I guess I will have to make an exception. Obviously. It really shouldn't be such a surprise. I'm not sure anyone could go there and not be smitten eventually. The craziest part about it (well, not THE craziest part, but it's up there) is that I only saw Dublin and Dublin port harbor.
(haha bet I had some of you guys going and about gave Dad a heart attack)
After my first two days of holiday were spent in London with my friend Leah whom I met in a mask design class from Agostino, I woke up bright and early Monday morning to spend nine hours traveling, taking train, then tub, then train again, then another train, and then finally a ferry in order to reach my destination. The ferry was a whole new experience; sitting peacefully with a sandwich, observing the sea and sky blend together, and being able to watch the slow process of creeping up on Ireland. And thus I arrived, feet on the ground of at least half of my ancestors, with only a map bequeathed to me by a nice bus driver and no information about where my hostel was. Eventually, I got there, greeted by and older Irish receptionist whose name I can't remember since my Australian friends I met there and I took to calling him Dad. The Irish are known to be witty, and that is very true, for not even two seconds in the room and all the receptionist are having good fun with my name. Luckily, the years living in my family has prepared me for such encounters.
My hostel was situated in the Medieval/Viking section, conveniently located next to the Temple Bar section, where I spent my nights (responsibly) attending pub crawls with my newly acquired friends and making new ones. Tuesday I took a walking tour, getting detailed insight on the history of the country, buildings and people. I spent a good hour in the National Museum looking up most of the family names I could remember, and afterwards I wandering around, declining the urge to buy some Starbucks and making the greatest discovery of all - sour patch kids. Now in a previous blog I mentioned the lack of these delicious treats in Italy, however upon entering a candy shop called Happy Pill (mostly because the store's name made me giggle), I discovered a whole bag of them. There were also Reese's, which I also almost bought, but I made myself choose one and I chose sour patch kids.
The rest of my time I spent just wandering around Dublin, taking my time and absorbing my surroundings, mostly in the various, beautiful parks, doing some homework for photojournalism and sketchbook, and going to a few of the museums including the National Leprechan Museum. It could be viewed as a waste of my time to not have traveled in the country and see all Ireland's glory, but in taking my time, I was able to known Dublin more than just the surface and find some very beautiful spots.
But now I am back in Italy, making chicken broth and eating strawberries, waiting the arrival of roommates and enjoying the remainder of my holiday.
Until Next Time!
Ciao!
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