i left my heart in ireland.

i went back there last weekend to try to coax it to join me in switzerland. but when i arrived, i immediately discovered that my heart was still firmly rooted in the streets of dublin and the hills of the irish countryside.

after the passport checker in dublin airport (who is the only unfriendly person in the whole of ireland) cleared me to enter, i gleefully threw my arms up in the air (and sent my passport flying) and exclaimed, "hurray!" the weird thing is, i did it completely involuntarily; i think it was all that pent up excitement finally escaping.

and when sandra picked me up a few minutes later, the first thing she said was, "welcome home, sweetpagene!" which is exactly what it felt like.

thursday i convinced sandra to ride the bus with me into town. (she, like most normal people, hates public transportation, but sandra is a true friend...she's also a bleeding heart: she made change for a 10 euro bill so she would have coins to drop in the beggars' cups) probably, though, you would also be very entertained by riding on the top floor of the two-story bus. and it is still as entertaining as it always was! but really, what is not to like? i sit on the top and enjoy the view of my favorite city ever, get where i need to go, AND i don't have to worry about traffic! (plus, the obnoxious teenagers are a nice bonus. really! i never tire of that brogue!) we spent the day visiting all the old places. we took a few pictures, but i felt weird taking tourist pictures. now, clearly, i have no problem being a tourist, but i don't feel like a tourist in ireland. foreigner, yes. tourist, no. so this is what we ended up with:





and all those cheesy smiles? 100% sincere. i was giddy for 72 hours straight.

that night we went to eddie rocket's, a 50s diner, and met up with some other friends, farris and daniel (so many of the old gang has moved on). we shared a booth with a group of men and women in their 60s who "come every thursday to talk about all the people we know." one old man struck up a conversation with me after hearing that i was a "yank" and we had a jolly good time bantering. put together the wit of an old irish man and the sass of a young american girl and you get some high quality banter.

friday i spent on my own, shopping (not really, i hate that) and enjoying dublin. i went by my old home and stopped at the chipper where i used to eat every day. i ordered the usual: chips with vinegar. oh, mama, they're good.

musical interlude (feel free to tap your toe):







that afternoon, i took the wrong bus into the next county (turns out the bus routes have changed a wee bit since 2004). so i asked the driver of the next bus if his bus was going back to dublin. he said, no, it was heading to the garage, but if i wanted, i could hop in and he'd take me into town. are you kidding me? this guy, who was now off-duty, was offering to take some dodgy foreigner (not tourist) who was too thick to get a bus schedule, back into town on the bus. people ask me why i love ireland. and that is why. because it is full of those kind and generous and cheerful and friendly and witty irish. because when sandra tripped on the curb, three people came rushing to help her. because when i stopped into o'brien's deli and it was closed (why don't you lock the door, yo?) they said, "we're closed, but we'll make you a sandwich anyway, come in." and because i never ever tire of hearing the phrase, "ah, no, yer grand!"

i met up that night with kathy, my former roommate, and spent the night catching up with her. the next day we went to a nice little market in south dublin and enjoyed the fall leaves of the dublin mountains. (they're hills, really, but don't tell the irish i said that.) that afternoon i went to visit the family that i nannied for. those twin baby girls, emily and isabelle, who couldn't even walk are now tall seven-year-old girls who can walk (and talk and feed themselves and use the toilet, they informed me). they didn't remember me, but they loved me immediately (and i them) and they showed me every medal or certificate they had ever received and told me the name of every student in their class pictures. marian, their mother, thinks that on some subconscious level they really do remember me. i like that. so i'm going with it. then i spent the rest of the evening with sandra and some friends and family, watching a rugby match and eating at a weird restaurant that served me bloody chicken. (free meal, baby!)

sunday morning i got up bright and early and headed back to the airport and back to real life. and just like the other times i left ireland, my eyes were a tiny bit moist as i climbed up those stairs and onto that airplane that would take me away from my favorite place on earth. yes, it really is that magical. now, i realize that i may be prone to hyperbole, but trust me when i say it is the most beautiful country filled with the most wonderful people. you should go visit. and when you do, can i come with you? i need to visit my heart, which seems to have taken up permanent residence in the emerald isle.