Finding Firenze: Parting Shot: Ireland

Instead of making up excuses for not posting while in Ireland, I'll just go ahead and finish the final chapter of my semester abroad.

The road to Ireland was a rough one. After southern France and the dinner I found my life wholly consumed with finals, and namely paper writing at that (which provides me with the slightest of excuses for not wanting to write anything, this blog included, for a while after I hand placed the final period on my final page). Yes, I'll admit that my creative juices seem to flow best under the pressure of deadlines— and no, this habit will probably never change—so when it came time to bust out seven papers and three in-class essays it also came as no surprise that I came down with a pretty bad fever in the middle of it all. Unfortunately this was also the time that my apartment-mate from first semester (back in that lovely town of Spokieville) came from her study abroad program in Granada, Spain, for a visit.

Fevers and frantic studying aside, I left Italy just a few days before Easter. After spending a wonderful final dinner with friends at Il Gato e La Volpe, spent most of my final hours in Florence packing up all my stuff and adjusting to the idea of finality. Now, I'll admit that I hate packing. I wait until the very last minute (like so many other things apparently) to toss my belongings into my bag and I inevitably forget something. Always. So it came as no surprise that I found myself stuffing and folding into the early hours of the morning. Four moths of my life were crammed into two rather heavy bags. When I finally laid down to sleep for the last time in my skinny twin bed at Soggiorno Laura, I knew that I was ready to go on to my next adventure: traveling solo around Ireland.

I convinced my parents to let me stay a little while after the GIF program ended last September and decided to fly out of a different country for my return home. Without any plans whatsoever I randomly picked Dublin as my exit city and promptly turned my attention to more pressing issues like enjoying the rest of the fall semester. I hadn't thought about Ireland at all until the majority of my friends traveled there for spring break to enjoy the festivities of St. Patrick's Day. It became more real that I would be visiting the Emerald Isle at the end of April, but with finals and other school trips in between I did little planning until two weeks before I left. I frantically searched for tickets and accommodations instead of writing final papers and settled on a cheaper flight out of Rome the day before we were supposed to pack up from the pensione since my finals wrapped up a day early. I didn't realize how strange it would feel being the first of my friends to leave. While they made plans for their final hikes up to Piazza Michelangelo, I was figuring out how to make my way from Florence to Dublin all by myself. I felt slightly daunted at the prospect of jetting off on my own without a familiar face for reassurance.

Early the next morning, my roommate Nicole walked me to the train station and I headed down to the Eternal city for the last time. Although I had no time to toss another coin into the Trevi, I knew I would be back someday. I remember the exact moment that guaranteed my return. It came after I arrived at the airport.

Mildly exhausted from a slight panic that I missed the train that ran from the main station (Roma Termini) to the Leonardo DaVinci Airport, I strolled up to the Aer Lingus desk to check in my bags with plenty of time to spare before my flight. I placed my first suitcase onto the belt and half-hoisted half shoved my weighty backpack after it. The ticket lady gave me a funny look and asked in thickly accented English if I was checking two bags. I replied that I had already paid online and she busily tapped away on her computer to confirm my claim. A troubled look crossed her face as she picked up the desk phone and spoke in rapid Italian. Quindici per chilo? I heard her say, wondering what 'fifteen per kilo' meant. Finally she hung up the phone and addressed me, saying that I did indeed check both of my bags, but one was eight kilograms over the 20 kilo and I would have to pay €15 per kilo over the weight limit. I stood there dumbfounded.

"So, what do I do?"

"Well, you can go upstairs and buy a small rolling bag and repack your large bag so that it fits," she suggested.

I hesitated, about to ask her if I could leave my stuff at the counter while I bought another piece of luggage.

"Wait," she interrupted, before I had a chance to say anything. "You're a student, right?"

"Yes."

"You've been here for a while; you're a student, and it's Easter."

"Yes?"

She waved a perfectly manicured hand dismissing me. "It's Easter and I want to help you. Just go to security."

If I was dumbfounded before, I was speechless as she pushed her magic button and whisked my bags down the conveyor belt.

"I want to help," she repeated. "It's Easter. Have a nice flight."

My throat ached as I choked down tears of gratitude. "Thank you so much, grazie mille!"

She nodded and turned to the next patron in line. Our entire exchange probably took less than five minutes, but in those short moments I was shown a selflessness that I never expected to receive and probably didn't deserve. I fought tears all the way through the security line and decided that there was no way I could ever leave a country like Italy forever.

My flight to Dublin was quick and uneventful. I landed and passed quickly through customs to collect my bag and catch a cab to my bed and breakfast, which was located in a suburb south of downtown Dublin. I settled in for an early night after a long day of travel: I had arrived.

With two weeks until my flight home I took my time exploring Dublin. Sightseeing in a city were the native language is English, or a form of it, made traveling on my own infinitely easier than I anticipated. Of course, it didn't hurt that the weather cooperated and I saw a bit of sunshine every day of my trip. As my cold dissipated and my confidence increased, I fell in love with the country, its friendly inhabitants, and their awesome accents.

Trinity College, the alma mater of Ireland's great minds. I
went for a walk on campus and felt right at home, even half
expected to run into people I knew. I guess this means I miss
campus living. Who knew?

Ha'Penny Bridge over the river Liffey

Liffey

Shamrocks in street lamps!?

Lovely (Presbyterian) Church

Town houses

I found a leprechaun!

The English nerd in me reveled in the legacy
of Irish literature. James Joyce, you are my hero.

Potato Famine memorial.

Enjoying the afternoon, Customs House, and
the Pinnacle.

Proof I went through the Temple Bar pub district.

Although Dublin is the largest city in Ireland, I knew I wouldn't be able to keep still in the city, so I followed my friends' advice and headed west to the former fishing village of Galway. The city has grown from its medieval beginnings, but remnants of the close-knit society remain. For instance, much of downtown Galway is pedestrian friendly because the streets are too narrow for cars. I found myself on the shores of Galway Bay enjoying my escape from the big European cities I had been frequenting for the past four months, and it was lovely.

Canals of Galway

City of the tribes

It's always sunny in Ireland? Eyre Square.

Swan in the harbour

The Claddagh ring, for which the boat is named,
is the traditional wedding ring of Galway.

The Claddagh neighborhood on Galway Harbor

Galway also served as a jumping off point for my exploration of the Irish countryside. I took two tours: one to the famous Cliffs of Moher, and the other to the Connemara area of northwestern Ireland.

Dry rock walls in the countryside

Enjoying the sunshine

The Poulnabrone portal tomb, dating back to the Neolithic
period (between 4200 and 2900 BC), solemnly decorates
the austere landscape of the Burren (Irish for rocky place).

Celtic Cross

So gorgeous and green!

Cliffs of Moher

The Stack (can you see a face in profile?)

Sheer magnificence.

Tower house of old Irish nobility

Traditional thatched roof of rural Ireland

Who would have thought that bog-lands
could be so beautiful?

Lough Pollacappul

Kylemore Abbey

Bees in the trees—apple trees to be precise.

Woodland outside the walled garden

Victorian Walled Garden, the largest in
Ireland.

I made some friends.

View along the lake.

Paradise

Cong Abbey, where the last High King of
Ireland, Rory O'Connor supposedly died

Ross Errilly Friary

Friary Cloisters

Countryside of the Emerald Isle

Downtown Galway

I returned to Dublin for a few days after enjoying the small town feel of Galway. I was able to take in the sights I previously missed, such as St. Patrick's Cathedral, Christchurch Cathedral, the James Joyce Center (for the English nerd in me) and an Irish history museum. Overall, Ireland turned out to be the perfect country for me to wrap up my time in Europe.