First, I know what you’re thinking if you’ve been paying attention to the language of my subjects; yes, they obviously speak English in Ireland, but I thought it would be more fitting if I kept with this theme until we got back to the states, and chose Gaelic instead. It’s really different, but cool. Anyway, on to the post!
So after getting on the train, figuring out how to buy our ticket, and sitting down for our hour-long train back to Berlin, I found myself looking out the window with this longing to come back to this beautiful country; on different terms. It really is beautiful, so organized, and just generally adorable. It was then that I decided that this awful HelpX experience wasn’t going to ruin my impression of the entire country, because that just isn’t fair.
When we arrived in Berlin, we searched for lockers to put our luggage in, ate some more breakfast, and set off to enjoy our few hours in Berlin before our flight that afternoon. The area of Berlin we were in was really nice, even though we had no idea was we were looking at. We just did a lot of walking, enjoying the clean streets, sausages, pretzels, free apples and the beautiful sun above our heads.
As we started to head back to the train station to catch our train to the airport, I started getting really anxious. Every passing hour I’d look at my watch and exclaim “ONLY __ MORE HOURS UNTIL WE GET TO SEE JENNA!” I’m sure Jon thought I was a complete dork, but I couldn’t help it. 5 months without seeing anyone I knew from home, of course I was excited.
Getting to the airport was interesting. We forgot to validate our ticket before we got on the train, so we were freaking out trying to figure out what to do, since we had already sat down. So Jon hopped off the train at one of the stops, bolted to a validation box, and managed to get them validated and back on the train before it set off again. Naturally I was worried the whole time, but it worked out.
The Berlin-Schönefeld Airport is way out from the city center, and extremely small. When we got off the train at the station, I thought we had mistakenly gone somewhere else. It was a long walk to the airport, made even longer by the weight of my backpack, but the very clever and adorable Easy Jet ads along the way made it somewhat entertaining. Once we got into the airport, we were surprised to find that we had to go to through security before we could even get to the check-in desk. They had some handy system of tagging bags that had to be checked verses ones that didn’t. Then we sat on the floor for about an hour until the RyanAir desk finally opened, since this airport is too small to have seating for such a thing. We decided to pay the 40 euros to check our two walking sticks we acquired in the Czech Republic, checked ourselves in, and walked around the gift shop looking for some delicious German chocolate to bring to Jenna.
Almost an hour of more waiting and we were heading to our gate, only to find that there was a passport check as you leave the airport. Uh oh… we heard bad things about Germans and their enforcing of Schengen rules, and thought we were in the clear one we got past the mandatory RyanAir passport check. So as we walk up to the passport desk, two months over our visas, the gentleman behind the counter starts flipping through the pages in Jon’s passport. We both got the heart-beat-in-your-throat sort of feeling, and could only hope for the best. He waved Jon through, free of the “don’t return” stamp, and it was my turn. He didn’t spend as much time with my passport, probably because it was obvious that we were together. Whew.
The flight itself wasn’t awful. 2 hours long, not enough leg room, flight attendants constantly trying to sell you stuff, but we managed to squeeze in a nap. Once we landed, got our Ireland stamp in our passport, we were just fine; out of Schengen and totally legal again. It felt nice.
Since it was pretty cheap, we opted to just take a taxi to Jenna’s apartments. The driver was a gentleman, really helpful, and nice to talk to. When he dropped us off, it was only about a minute before I saw Jenna walking down the street, and then I felt great. I couldn’t feel how heavy my backpack was, how bad my feet hurt, or how cold my arms were. We went to her apartment for a while, talked, relaxed, and then set out to find a nice place for dinner. We found a cozy bar/restaurant in the Temple Bar district, enjoyed some bangers and mash, fish and chips and a few pints.
Since quarters were cramped, we had to sleep on the floor in her apartment, but we stole the couch cushions from the living room and slept on those. The next couple days were filled with rather touristy things: a duck bus tour of the city, completely with Viking hats and screaming and people on the streets, more fish and chips, eating lunch in the lawn of Christ Church Cathedral, seeing St. Patrick’s Cathedral, the Guinness Brewery, Carrol’s Irish Store, the Dublin bus system, lots of walking, and rain. Good thing we read all the guide books and know that going out in Ireland without an umbrella is like asking to get pushed into a swimming pool fully clothed.
It was a very nice weekend with Jenna that I absolutely needed. I needed to sit and talk with someone in person from home, enjoy all the excitement of the city with someone other than Jon (not that he’s not wonderful, but since she had been there a few days, she sort of knew her way around), and talk about everything that’s going on at home.
Getting to our host in Ireland was fairly easy. Two buses, and we were met by a very enthusiastic mother of three to bring us back to her home. The place here is absolutely wonderful, by far my favorite place so far. They have so much to do here, so many birds (ducks, geese, and hens; baby chicks and ducklings too!), and such a successful vegetable garden. They live in an old stone house that they’ve fixed up themselves, at the bottom of a hillish mountain thing, with the Motty Stone at the top. I’m not sure what it is exactly, other than a really big stone that you can climb up on for views of the surrounding mountains and the Irish Sea. We’re staying in a rather well kept trailer just at the bottom of the hill, which is nice when you’re staying with a family of five; you have your own quiet space where you can be out of the way. I love it here.
I’ll fill you in on all the unique experiences I’ve had since arriving to “The Barnyard” (a nickname they’ve given their home) at a later time, I feel this post is long enough. Until next time… Bíodh lá iontach!
Parlez Lentement. 