I can’t believe how the time passes. November slipped away from me quickly as I passed its last weekend in Greece, without computer, forgetting to upload the posts I had written on previous plane rides: here’s the last half of November’s documentation;
November Part 2
What else can I say? The second half of November has also been fantastic
I last left you on a tour bus heading back to Dublin after a day’s visit of the Cliffs of Moher. Ireland was quite excellent.
It all started off on the perfect note, too.
I got to the outbound passport/border control in Nice, the Frenchman at the desk briefly looked over my American passport (last name: KEEGAN), my boarding pass, and my leprechaunish appearance and astutely remarked “Going back to your roots?”.
His rhetorical question elicited my greenest grin and I happily confirmed “Oui”. I headed to the gate, enchanted by his adept detective work.
The terrorist attacks in Paris happened while we were in the air. It’s funny how time is sort of suspended in air-travel – no contact with the world below. Do they have live-news on some planes?
So it wasn’t the happiest way to enter Ireland. We were in lines for customs when people started turning on their phones, connecting to wifi, getting blasted with texts from family by the dozens and news alerts chirping throughout the queue.
It all just came in one sudden rush, a big tidal wave, before we could hear the warnings or the rumors; we heard the booming reality of what was happening in full swing. Our jovial and innocent excitement at being in a new country was quickly clotheslined by the terrific happenings.
I stayed with a high school friend who was studying in Dublin. I reached his place around midnight. Needing to make the best of the worst, I resolved to raise a glass to those in Paris, another to those who were no longer with us, and another to the city itself. We managed to keep spirits high and enjoyed a bit of late night activity around the city.
I spent the rest of the weekend getting to know the area through the bottoms of my feet, romantically enthused by my ancestral stomping grounds, enjoying the friendly natives, and listening to Van Morrison and taking windy selfes around the inclement cliffs in Galway.