SEPTEMBER 8 2012
So my bags are checked and I'm through
airport security. Im sitting in the terminal and the predominant
thought that keeps running through my internal dialogue is “what in
\gods name are you doing. I'm terrified but that is exactly what \i
was hoping for. \this whole trip is mainly about pushing back the
boundaries of my comfort zone. I will do my best to document my
experiences. I can only document what I can recall so I apologize if
the Jameson's amnesia strikes me at some point. So far there isn't
too many images worthy of description. I'm absurdly early so the
terminal is still relatively sparse. The median age for this flight
appears to be 67. I'm still debating whether \i should have a
preflight cocktail or let my liver enjoy the lack of toxicity for
another 24 hours. On the plus side I've never seen a congregation of
so many redheads in one place before as in this terminal. Its eerily
remniscent of the Weasly family scenes from Harry Potter. Although
it'd be a shame to put an end to this poetic first entry I feel that
I should leave room for more stirring details than airport
articulation.
Part 2
I made it to Dublin and I'm currently
running on fumes. Its 9am here but technically 3am in regular time. I
shall resist this absurd time zone until \I acclimatize. Until then
its irregular and irritating that people are waking up and starting
their day. My cab driver \john was a funny guy. Think of an Irish
stereotype and you've got him nailed. Quick talking, cursing,
driving. Not drunk though shockingly enough. I'm putting that myth to
rest until I acquire more evidence. I plan on obtaining this evidence
later today at 3. Its an all Irish final for hurling (I will explain
the rules of hurling as soon as I know) and I plan on being in the
rowdiest bar available at that time. This is a promise I make to
myself assuming my body/ consciousness holds out that long. My next
entry will be drunken or not at all. This much I promise you, loyal
reader.
Part 3
So this has turned into quite the long
day. Already I've explored the Guiness brewery, walked aimlessly
through both the tourist suburbs and the seedy parts of town. But
perhaps the most memorable experience of today had to be watching the
all Ireland final at a local pub. I had no idea what was happening
throughout the game. It apparently ended in a tie, which means a
“replay” on the 30th . What was most remarkable was
the spirit of the Irish in the bar. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to
say that it was comparable to Vancouver 2010 for Canadians. The most
striking feature of the people I've come into contact with is their
genuine nature. There's something akin to earnestness I get from
their eyes. I feel like they don\t take life as seriously as North
Americans either. Theres a sense of being carefree. Now this is a
quick judgement to make less than 24 hours into being here but I'll
stick to that judgement until it proves false. This nation makes me
feel a preternatural nostalgia. Just knowing that I have blood ties
here makes me feel connected to foreign architecture. I can see
anamorphic shapes of long lost relatives stalking the same streets
separated by time. Goddamn I'm a romantic aren't I? Until tomorrow
(barring a late night drunken entry).
