"What if, what if we ran away; What if, what if we left today; What if we say goodbye to safe and sound... [-Troye Sivan]
The day did not go as planned.
And if you'd only seen my travel bible...all those meticulous hours of research and that careful planning of this and that- of here and there...
I didn't even get to the Queen of Tarts...
Trinity College, I'm sorry, do not pass go and no 200 Euro for you, not today my friend...
Irish Film Institute, better luck next time...
I could not move this morning. Travel exhaustion, anxiety, and this feeling of being so overwhelmed by the mere fact that I was in Ireland, it somehow left me paralyzed.
And so I slept well past 9a, straight through 10a, and finally unearthed myself from my safe white cotton cocoon of bed linens at half past 11a- No Jillian, you did not fly halfway around the world to sleep in a hotel bed, no ma'am, suck it up cupcake and move. NOW...
And so, I did.
The Red Line Luas, Tallaght Stop is right across from the Glasaus, where I'm staying, and so I stood in front of the que and made my selection, Abbey Street stop, remember to get a return ticket like the nice lady at the hotel desk advised, information computed, ticket translated.
The Luas is akin to a New York City subway train except it operates above ground. I board and it's full steam ahead. Tallaght is away from the city center by a good 45 minutes, so as we drift closer into the city, the view from the window filters through country lanes to city streets. The Luas reaches Abbey Street and I hop off. I grab my phone and in the theme of things not going according to plan, Google Maps is not working. And Jillian doesn't exactly list map reading on her resume of expertise.
Okay, this is fun, don't panic, everyone play it cool, it's totally good, okay now I am panicking...
I wander down the street until I am directly outside of the Irish Times Office and I stop and try for Wi-Fi and it connects long enough for me to figure out where my feet are. Because you are here don't you know, here, and you need to be there.
And so I wander in a general direction toward where I think I'm supposed to be. And after a commercial break, more like four, I finally stumble across the Dublin Bus Office on O' Connell Street Upper (That's a mean trick Ireland, those Lower's and Upper's...) And I grab my 72 hour hop on/ hop off pass and I wait for the bus.
The day is getting away from me and so I don't take the whole loop tour and I hop off at the National Gallery. The National Gallery is The Met of Ireland and it's breathtaking. 3 floors and vast hallways of various art collections. I walk the hallways and stop at paintings that make something stir up inside the depths of my soul. Beautiful, somber, women in time, paused for a moment, strong and mysterious, and melancholy, and innocent and full. Stained glass windows that fill up a room, light dancing across their glory, causing choir girl hymns to fall ever so softly, reverent from my lips. Brush strokes sweeping an ocean into life across a well worn canvass. It fills me up, all of it and I tuck it all away inside myself, in that place that is thirsty for beauty to spring up from dry bones.
And I feel it, that beauty, I feel it here.
Post the National Gallery, I hop on the bus again and make my way to the Trinity College area. We are dropped in a location that is kitty-corner to the entrance and I attempt to follow the directions of the driver but here we go again...I walk in circles and Google Maps doesn't hold long enough for me to make heads or tails of anything and locals point me in a direction only for me to perhaps get close, just not close enough and Dublin doesn't quite have street signs as we do the in the States...And I am clutching a map that I still can't read. Welcome to the lost wanderings, let's go on an adventure...
And so I wander through streets and alley ways that are pedestrian friendly, past shops, and pubs, and people and I begin to trace through something that seems fleetingly familiar.
I somehow land in Temple Bar and I have one mission, I need to find the Pieman Café, I need to, it is very clearly marked on my beloved itinerary, reviews carefully read for months in my planning and I NEED to find it. I have to, team Dorothy in Dublin needs a win, so this yellow brick road needs to guide her to the Pieman...
And I do find it. And I feel the faint prickle of tears hit my eyes. And I laugh. It is amazing, this moment, because all of my best laid plans unraveled and yet here, I am nonetheless eating a hearty Dublin meal that tastes a whole lot like love. A love born of being lost and being found. A love born of dreams from long ago and far away being fastened in flesh and bone, present day. In love with a life that I was not even sure that I would live this year last. In love with an imperfect version of this day. And it trickles down with every bite, this love, and I walk away from the café feeling peaceful, and happy, and content with it all.
I wander down the cobbled stone streets where life springs up from the ground, vibrant and gritty, and loud, and it all feels like fireworks set against the backdrop of this soft gray afternoon. And I am merely a spark, briefly burning, gracefully fading with each step as I make my way home.
I am walking out of the hub of Temple Bar and something catches my eye, the unmistakable white crown of the Ha'Penny Bridge. And I stop. And my heart begins to beat faster. And I stare in wonder. How many nights over the last 20 years did I dream of this moment- it would number the stars as it were. And I feel my body gravitate like a magnet towards the entrance and then I am standing right there. I reach out and touch the chipped paint and cold wrought iron and it is an electric pulse of joy that courses through me, wild and unkempt. And I walk slowly up each step to the crest and I stand there for a while staring out over the River Liffey and I watch as the clouds roll by, until the rain begins to drop and as it hits my cheeks, I close my eyes and smile and once again, I tuck this moment deep into my bones. And snap one last still frame as I step away and the day somehow feels complete and so I walk back to the Red Line Luas stop.
The train carries my body gently back to Tallaght and I pop into Tesco for some Irish nosh and I arrive back at the Glashaus.
The day didn't go as planned.
And tomorrow may follow suite.
And the next day.
And the day after that.
But after spending a day unraveled and lost, I have found that I do not need safe and sound as much as I had believed, I do not need pristine, well laid plans that go according to plan, I just need to be where I am, wherever that might be and life will carry on and find a rhythm and the pieces will fit in the end. And it will be a beautiful mess.
And it was, you know, it was a beautiful mess, the lot of it.
Welcome to Dublin...
-Jillian Nichole, lost and found...
Lovely!
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