Trifter

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I have to start by saying I am very lucky. I have a wonderful child (more on him later!), an adoring and adorable husband and friends all over the world. In December last year, I was lucky enough to jump on a Ryanair flight — toddler and luggage in tow — and finally, finally visit Ireland.

I often describe Ireland thus: If Europe is my home then Ireland is the cozy den where a fire burns, my favourite music is playing softly in the background, and a good book awaits. While the December trip was amazing, and Ireland was everything I’d imagined, it was also problematic for various reasons. Getting up at 4am to catch our incoming and outgoing flights does not a happy toddler make. Also my little man was already sick the day before we were due to leave, but I am a wicked mother and could not bare to cancel. Overall, I didn’t get to see half the things I wanted to see.

So along comes June and my husband suggests quite out of the blue that I should take a day out on my own to just be by myself or catch up with friends without LM about to be chased after. Grasping opportunity by the… coattails… I calmly respond that while that would be lovely, I had been hoping to get back to Dublin at some stage so that I could see more of the city and Harry Potter weekend in mid-July would be a perfect opportunity for me to head out on my own and see the sights of the city and watch the film with my Harry Potter minded friend who I may or may not have met on the Harry Potter message boards six years ago.

To cut an already-too-long story short, I got my five days in Dublin. They were amazing. I was spoiled rotten by my friend and her boyfriend, went out to eat at the Millstone, an amazing gourmet pizza restaurant on Dame Street, got tipsy at the Guinness Storehouse, was awed by some of my favourite dead people at the Dublin Writers Museum. The Dublin Castle is also a must-see, and I was very glad we invested in a Dublin Pass. The city itself is very relaxed, not rushed like most major cities, which I suppose is the Irish way.

On one of the days there, we drove down to Newbridge and checked out a Hollywood Icons exhibit at the Newbridge Silverware’s Visitors Centre. It was fascinating in that I got to see how incredible Marilyn Monroe was and how surprisingly tall the Beatles are. Their suits from A Hard Day’s Night are just as swanky as one would imagine them to be.

As always with a wonderful holiday, it was too short. I was happy to be home with my family, and it was nice to give each other time for missing. I do, however, honestly think that if someone came up to me tomorrow and said “Hey, we have a job for you in Dublin”, I’d take it in a heartbeat.

Another thing I always say about Ireland is that for all the places I have been, Ireland is the only place where I have not once felt like a foreigner. This includes my home country. The Irish expatriates are usually wont to say that that’s because there are no Irish left in Ireland. I know it’s because once you’re in Ireland, it’s assumed that you’re Irish. And when you leave, part of you really is.