“Where to, miss?”
The older cab driver picked me up outside of Dublin airport, in almost the exact same spot I had been dropped off at two months prior. After giving the cabbie my new townhome’s address, we raced down the expressway. It was 6 am, still dark, and the quiet streets were just beginning to wake up. I noticed the cabbie’s pace slowed, and he asked me a question that made me instantly think, THIS WOULD NEVER HAPPEN IN AMERICA.
The cabbie asked me where my street was. After telling him I lived in Phibsborough (which I like to compare to Brooklyn), a cute part of Dublin just a 15 minute walk from the city center, he asked me again what part of Phibsborough I lived in. After telling him I lived at “Parnell and O’Connell-ish,” I grew frustrated and demanded he pull over so I could get my phone out of the trunk. I don’t have time for this! I just slept on a plane! I was thinking, even though my overnight flight had been basically empty and I got a whole row to myself. This cabbie literally had one job, and he was failing hardcore. I mean, a chef would never come out of the kitchen and ask, “Does anyone here know how to make mac and cheese?” Why did the cabbie think it was okay to not know where we were going!? He was picking up people at the airport for Lawd’s sake. To think, all these tourists doing his job for him. Fa shame.
Cabbie experience aside, it felt 100 times better to “move to Dublin” the second time around. I have a home! I have friends! I have a church! I have a job! I have plans and my Type A personality is loving this experience. Moving to Ireland at the beginning of this year was one of the most out-of-character things I’ve ever done, but it’s been a fantastic ride. I highly, highly recommend it to anyone and everyone. It isn’t a perfect ride, but we’re only this young once.
So I say all this to say, I’ve made it safely to Dublin, I’m settled in and taking things slowly this week because I’m headed to London next week and then I’ll begin working and such thereafter. I’ve been so go go go in Houston working crazy hours that it feels genuinely nice to be sleeping in and doing not much of anything. I’m still jetlagged, but since I don’t have any commitments this week I literally have no worries. The most productive thing I’ve done today was get burritos in town and make a quick run to Aldi, and I’m okay with that! The weather’s been great these past two days, and the crisp air hits ya at 55 degrees at night. I can actually go out for a latte and not sweat on the walk between my car and the coffee shop!
I’m only here for 91 days this time and I intend on finishing out the year as adventurous and strong as always. I’ve always been one to agree to an adventure, and it’s crazy to me to think that come December I’ll have spent 1.5 out of 2.5 years living in Europe. Walking down the streets of Dublin just as people like James Joyce have done for hundreds of years, I can’t help but reflect on the circumstances that lead me here, and I’m so thrilled to have another go at Ireland!