Thursday, 11 April 2013

And It's Good to be Home From Time to Time

For the Easter break I managed to book a cheap-ish flight home, so I got to go back to Ireland for more than a week, the longest I've been home by a long shot since I first moved away. Being at home stirs so many emotions. There's really nothing like walking down a quiet Grafton St., headphones in, soaking up the feeling of memories collliding with who you are now. I don't know if I could bear to live in Ireland again, the colloquial preoccupations and conservative undertones are too much for me, but it feels amazing to go back and play pretend for a few days every now and then.

While at home, I visited Bewley's no less than twice, made several Bus Eireann journeys, cycled my old faithful mountain bike I've been riding around the block since the tender age of twelve, cleaned out my bedroom, watched Intermission, and saw all of the people I love the most.

This shelf, this one shelf, contains so many sources of emotion that I can't even. I don't even actually care about or like the Furby, but that doesn't change its significance. Incidentally, Leo's aunt published Wicked the book (sitting below the book from Caroline I borrowed years ago but never read), from her own publishing house, and I am probably more in awe of this fact than most facts that exist today.

In addition, I went to The Giant's Causeway in country Antrim with my friends. We all wore matching 'feck off rain' tshirts and listened to terrible music. And got lost coming home. I had a whale of a time. The signage read 'The North', which we all found too funny, because everyone casually refers to 'The North' but I never in a thousand years thought they'd take it far enough so as to put it on the official road signs.

Everyone told me I'd be disappointed, that the Causeway is very small and unimpressive, but it was absolutely breathtaking. We climbed all over the rocks for about an hour, in what had to be the only sunny day Ireland has had in a year. I in no way exaggerate, it is amazing.

Sadly all good things come to an end, and the trip flew by. This is a picture I took of my room. I think it is fitting. If you ever have to go to Ireland for some reason, fly with Aer Lingus because they are the friendliest, kitchiest airline in existence. It is an absolute pleasure. So many 'sorry now love, would you mind just....' from the crew. Never flying Ryanair again after that experience.

Take care, be nice, remember to stay hydrated.

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