Hildebrand- An Erin in Ireland

First off, I love going to new countries and exploring new countries (who doesn’t? you think and you’re immediately wrong. Many people are content to stay in one place forever, so hush.) There’s something addictive about new food, language barriers, and exchanging currency. It’s more powerful than getting piercings or smoking cigarettes, wandering a new country comes with beautiful disorientation. 

Second, I’ve always suffered terrible separation anxiety among other anxiety problems. It’s safe to say that no matter how much I adore traveling, it’s never easy for me. Going to Dublin wasn’t the first time I voyaged alone, but it was the first time I had to completely rely on myself (I’ve mostly traveled in groups with tight organized etc.) 

The journey over the pond was embittered by crushing loneliness: I cried, I slept crushed against the seat in front of me, and I had a bitch of a stewardess. I broke free from the dry air of the craft like I’d been held underwater, rubbing my nose raw and immediately reaching for the chapstick. But then I got a rush of the Irish air, 55 degrees Fahrenheit on the dot; it was brisk and welcoming for five minutes. My tiny body doesn’t agree with anything under 70 and my second jacket came out. 

My first real sights of Dublin were from the Aircoach bus that drove me from the airport to Trinity College. I love seeing cities for the first time in coaches; the windows are enormous and the bus sits higher than all of the other cars. It’s a perfect quick view for newcomers. Dublin is more bewitching than I could even comprehend. Every inch of architecture screams with history and art; the streets are bustling with people of global ethnicities. There are musicians playing on every corner and if you listen to each one you’re sure to hear a badass U2 cover.  Multiple pubs can be found on every street and if you search long enough you’ll find an American bar (I found Captain America’s Bar and Cookout!) and take a minute or two for some USA nostalgia. 

For the time being, though, I think I’ll leave the States at the door and continue to soak up as much of the Emerald Isle as I can. No one seems to understand my accent, nor I theirs, every dinner I order comes with chips, and I’m blowing through euros way faster than planned (sorry Mom and Dad!) This city is bliss; it shines in the sun but is still winsome in the rain. The grey sky against the lush landscape is a paragon of the intricate city that James Joyce portrays in his stories, a perfect backdrop for the bleak and beautiful.