Dublin, Ireland

The cabin lights went on with a beep and I awoke with my face pressed up against the window. Groggily I opened my eyes to take in my first view of Ireland. The landscape was rolling and lush green, dotted with headlights from ant cars negotiating flyovers and straightaways. Wheels touched down and I heard Gaelic for the first time.

After getting through customs which was a breeze compared to my experience crossing into the United States, I got the first stamp of my passport. I had a lot of free pages and I wanted them all used up. As time would tell stamps seem to be a thing of the past, but at least at my first stop of the journey they still were around. I hopped on a bus ride towards the center of town where I was meeting my sister Rebecca at the hostel. I remember looking outside the window of that bus and realizing why green is the color of St. Patrick´s Day. Everywhere you look you see green, different shades and hues, switching palettes from one lawn to the next, from shrub to tree. The same fascination would return later in the day when we ventured to St. Stephen´s Green. But all in its due time and place.

I stumbled into the hostel after taking quite a winding tour from the bus stop (I was hopelessly lost). Rebecca (hereon referred to as Becka) and I met in the lobby after I checked in, it felt quite funny to be seeing her all of a sudden on another continent. After putting our luggage in the storage room we got a map and head on out to discover Dublin.

We had only one day in which to see all of Dublin. We marched towards a church called St. Patrick´s Church. It seemed logical to start with the most famous saint from the land. It is built entirely out of stone, something rare these days. It´s grey exterior stood in stark contrast to the emerald grass layed out before it. Along the side wall of the church is a row of busts containing the likenesses of Yeats and Coleridge. We spent some time walking its paths and headed back out into the city.

The city of Dublin itself is very small. That is, its center can literally be seen in a matter of hours. But within that center so many amazing things are packed. Some of the buildings have been standing since the time of the first Crusades. Places like Christ Church are embedded within a street corner but were built in the 11th century. And people still sit amongst its bricks and relax on a bench. The history is so integrated into Dubliners lives you cannot help but be charmed by it.

We trekked on into St. Stephen´s Green. Its gaping entrance is made up of a large white arch and the path branches off into different directions. And for some strange reason, this was my favorite part of Dublin. It does not boast any historic brick or mortar. But the area itself has earned it an international reputation. And it really does lives up to it. Its serene ponds with ducks and swans floating around ripples in the water, to its lush lawns and immaculately kept bushes. We sat down in the middle for some rest, and somehow just that visage renewed me. I had truly arrived.

We went to a traditional Irish Pub for lunch, although in Ireland I guess they just call them Pubs. Saw some locals come in for the afternoon pick me up of Guinness and some more Guiness. Afterwards we strolled for a while and I hit a wall. The combination of a sleepless flight, jetlag and a full stomach made the thought of a nap irresistible. I crashed onto the squeeky bed and was out for three hours.

And after a nap your best friend is a warm cup of coffee. So out we went in search of one, which is quite the task in Dublin as it turns out. For a pint of beer you just have to trip and you´ll land on a keg tap, but coffee seems to be more ellusive. In any case the expedition revealed more of Dublin to us, which is all that you want in the first place. But the most humorous thing to see is that at any time of the day, you can spot someone trying to walk straight, but not really succeeding.

The Ugly Lemon. The quintessential Irish Pub, yellow light and wooden decór, the exact kind of place I wanted to spend my evening. We walked in and managed to find a table near the bar which would prove strategic in the ensuing hours. I of course ordered the mother of all Irish beers, a Guinness stout. That was one thing checked off my itinerary. "Have an authentic Guinness in Dublin." Becka took a shot of that and I think that photo will be stapled to my wallet and I shall flash it everytime I walk into an Irish pub.

Finally we started back to the hotel. A city looks so different at night, almost as if you have never seen it before. For me, any city triples its beauty once the suns sets. Buildings become illuminated in a flashdance of mixing colors and the street lights give the pavement a pulse, going from light to dark and back. Even the people seem happier as their minds are not burdened with their jobs, everyone is out to ease their minds. It would turn out that in every city I went to, the first time I truly admired it would be at night. It was a recurring theme and I think it matters not whether it is on this continent or another, any city only reveals its true self under the gaze of a moon.

We made it back to the hostel and slept. In the morning Becka had to leave early for the airport so we said our goodbyes and I went back to sleep. When I awoke I myself had to head to the airport and board a plane to my next destination: London. I said my farewell to the birthplace of green and flew east. I landed in England to be greeted by rain and a confusing trip from Stansted to Hyde Park. But that story is for another day.