Today I experienced a brief moment of sadness as I tried to remember specific moments from my trip to Ireland this summer. But luckily, as a photographer, I don't have to remember everything myself. I have visual cues can go over as many times as I need.
Still, sometimes I think about my summer and it doesn't seem likes its mine. Did I actually move to Ireland for two months? Was it really me who worked for an amazing Croatian photographer in a converted fire station? Did I really splash my feet in the waters at Glendalough? Some of it feels so surreal, but there are a few moments I distinctly remember. Those moments definitely don't feel like they happened to someone else.
My ankle still gets stiff on occasion, so of course I remember Cormac telling me "four pints of Guinness and it'll be grand" as a cure for my Gaelic football injury (maybe the secret is to already have four pints in you, so you don't notice when you fall). I also very specifically remember getting groceries in City Center and being several long blocks from my bus stop when it started pouring. Also happened to be the day I forgot my umbrella. But after about a month and a half I started thinking like a local. Most of the time it doesn't get worse than a "Dublin drizzle," and if it does get worse than that your best bet is just to hide out in the nearest store, because it's going to come down sideways anyway.
But beyond the ankle injury and getting stuck in a deluge and any other unfortunate events that occurred, I remember how much I loved Ireland. I remember eating fish and chips on a bench under Christ Church. I remember spending way too long in the rare books store on Duke Street. I remember riding the DART with Dragana and Tom to Dun Laoghaire. And watching the mist roll over the rocks on the Ring of Dingle. And holding the barn owl, Pickles, at the falconry school. And surprising myself by winking at the cute drummer of a band performing in the street of the Temple Bar area. And watching a German guy ride a unicycle and crack flaming whips. And I remember every dog I met because I was missing my own so much.
I love adventuring and exploring, but living in a different country (even if it's only for two months) is a little scary. So, if you're going to be alone and nervous in a foreign country, make sure you're in Ireland. Of course there's so much to do and see, and the whole county is beautiful, but more than anything the people make it welcoming. I had so many little moments of contact with friendly strangers just wanting to help give directions or offer advice about the best pubs.
I hope that someday you get the opportunity to go to Ireland, because it is truly a magical place. If you do, be prepared to have lovely conversations with strangers. Know that you will be eating loads of brown bread with the most delicious butter on the planet. You will have to learn how to "hurry up and wait," but it's worth it. And you should know that you will miss it terribly when you leave and you'll be wishing you were sitting by the window of a pub, watching the rain and sipping on a Guinness. Until next time, may the road rise up to meet you.
