Illuminated Green Man

My trip to Ireland came to its end and I am pleased with my new count of countries I have travelled to outside the United States. My new total comes to a whopping… TWO! That is, if we are not counting a tourist resort in Mexico at age ten and the airplane in Belgium for an hour or so…which I am not. My trip to Ireland was my first divergence from Germany which gives me at least a little more variation in order to properly relate experiences. It was again a rather long day of travel which included a substantial amount of time waiting outside the train station in a small German town called Memmingen. It was perhaps the coldest weather I have experienced yet. Needless to say, I was ecstatic when the 811 arrived and so were the three French girls that ended up asking me if they were at the correct bus stop in order to get to the airport. I told them they were in the right place as if I hadn’t been just as confused 45 minutes earlier when I myself pestered someone else for that same answer. The bus arrived and took us to the smallest airport I have ever stepped foot in which served as a liaison for a plane that thankfully, did not follow suit in the size department. The airport somewhat resembled a large circus tent of which you could see all corners from the entrance. It turned out not to be so bad however, especially when the other Ryanair travelers began accumulating near the gate reminding me for the first time in a couple weeks that I was not the only person in the world besides Sequoia and Aaron that speak English. After catching wind of all the accents, it started to hit me that after all the years I had fancied going, I was actually about to be in Ireland. I spent the next two hours enjoying the sounds and wondering why anyone would have desired to leave Ireland in the first place.
The airplane arrived safely at Dublin Airport and I was directed to an airport bus that was equipped with free travelling internet and a video screen depicting upcoming destinations with impressive graphics. It was nice to be able to confidently ask questions again which inconveniently slipped my mind once the bus dropped me off downtown at one o’clock in the morning and I was lost, to say the least. I only had vague written directions to the hostel I was staying at which were zero help with navigating streets that were free of any signage at all. Unlike Germany whose streets are very clearly labeled (with long names and strange letters, but labeled nevertheless), Dublin has very few street signs and the ones they do have are located on the sides of buildings…often in different locations…or on the ground. After walking up and down the same street literally six times, I decided to ask a security guard—the only person on the streets and not intoxicated at that hour—for directions. She gave me a good-hearted but rather cryptic description of the path I was to take. Eventually, I arrived in the lobby of a very dingy, smoky, but traditionally homey hostel and hotel combo. I was handed my room key and travelled to my room where I came upon 12 other travelers stuffed into a very small room that smelled strongly of food and feet. The bed was adorned with one large sheet, folded in half atop the bed to act as a quasi sleeping bag, as well as a comforter without a cover. And, the bathroom was…less than clean. After having stayed at such a well-kept hostel in Munich, I had become a bit of a hostel snob for which I received adequate ridicule later on from the listeners of my story. I switched the next morning to a delightful, clean alternative located in the center of the city. I stayed in a six bed room in which I was the only occupant all three nights. There was a clean bathroom, clean beds, and a very nice staff. And with that we have come to the end of this episode of “Jitana’s Irish Hostel Reviews.”
After transporting my suitcase to the new hostel, I went on a self-guided tour of the city. Relying solely on my whims, I travelled by foot to the far reaches of Dublin (it was not really the far reaches, it just felt like it because I walked in one giant circle.) I enjoyed the architecture which reminded me of the areas of Britain I have seen via the Harry Potter movies; not to mention the abundance of double-decker buses. I observed many, many bookstores (about as many as there are bread shops in Germany), a beautiful park called Stephen’s Green with LOTS of birds, and a man making a sand sculpture in the middle of Grafton Street.

[That is what you were missing all those years mom, an exhibit of your skills in the middle of a busy shopping street.] Later, the internet led me to a delicious vegetarian restaurant that was surely not authentic Irish food but was scrumptious anyway. The following day was kicked off by an unanticipated free walking tour of the city. We began at Dublin castle which, much to my surprise was not really very castle-like at all. It was like one giant stone tower accompanied by a smaller, Georgian style building next to a small collection of square buildings in quite un-castle-like colors.

The tour guide, a cute, gregarious, born-and-raised Dubliner named Helena said that when the architect was asked what the meaning of the colors on the building were, he simply said that they were chosen because he liked those colors. The tour took us to every important landmark in Dublin city and was complemented with loads and loads of really fascinating history and silly stories about the Irish people. It lasted about three and a half hours during which we saw an old Viking house, Irish Parliament, Trinity College, Temple Bar, the Ha’penny Bridge, the birthplace of Jonathan Swift, and the tallest building in Ireland.




It ended at a pub where we got the option of sitting down with the tour guide to an authentic Irish meal. I enjoyed Beef and Guinness Stew for the sake of adventure and had a number of delicious sides including parsnips, cooked carrots, and collard greens. The tour was well worth the zero Euro I paid for it (plus ten for the meal).
That night I attended a play put on by the college called “Jurass-tastic” and to put it bluntly, it was a “Jurass-tastrophy.” It was a musical spin off of Jurassic Park with subpar renditions of American pop culture tunes, blowup dinosaurs, and frequent usage of the word “fuck.” The next day, I attempted to avoid getting hit by a car while making my way to catch a bus to the sea. The cross-walk situation in Dublin is a bit nuts. No one waits for it to tell you to cross unless there is absolutely no other option. If you are forced to wait until traffic is slowed, you most certainly do not wait until the illuminated green man appears. Rather, you just start walking as soon as you can be sure you will not get hit by a car. Finally, when the little green man does appear, he only stays for at most five seconds and if you have not cleared the road by that time, you should be worried. One time I had to shove someone out of my way to make it across to safety before a bus came storming at me without slowing in the least. When I finally made it to the bus stop, the bus took me out to Howth, a small town on the outskirts of Dublin that is surrounded by ocean. It was exactly the rural, green, stereotypical Irish scene I had hoped for. I spent a couple hours smelling the sea, hearing the sail boat masts, feeling the rain, seeing the cute houses, and buying cashews.


The return flight left at eight in the morning and they forced me to pay an extra thirty-five Euro for the same sized bag that had been acceptable on the way there. It was nice to be back in the company of friends (or friend, rather) upon my return to Germany but I was not excited to return to the freezing weather and lack of English. I hope to return one day to Ireland and travel to the other points of interest in the country but it was delightful to be there at all. I could not be more excited for my next adventure.

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