Ireland Redux IX: Journey's End

Recently I went through some old journals, and one entry from 2001 detailed a trip to Nashville with my sister.  It turned out, with just miles from our destination, we got very lost.  I had written that I would never travel with her again because we argued hideously.  Well, obviously I had forgotten that resolution...

It was about noon when we left Wicklow for Dublin, which is a little over an hour away, if I remember correctly.  Once we got into the city, guess what?  We got lost again.  This really left me with a bad taste for Dublin, which isn't really fair at all to the city.  Anyway, by some miracle (and after I had to get out of the way of a tram headed straight towards us because I was stopped on the tracks) we found our last B&B.  Only, there was a problem.  The plumbing had failed, so we were sent a few doors down to another B&B owned by the same family.  We checked in and were directed just up the stairs.  Well, just up the stairs actually meant four flights.

 Huffing and puffing (my endurance should be much better than this), we opened the door to a room with a single bed when I expected a double room.  Sharing a bed for a night is no big deal; we're two years apart and shared a bed for years when we were little.  What was a problem, though, was the heat.  This room was a sauna, and there was no thermostat, nor any discernible way to open the window.  We couldn't stay inside for long and went down to the pub on the corner for a pint, which extended into lunch, of which I had a very nice lamb stew.

Afterward, we walked around the block, which we had gotten a glimpse of after parking the car in a garage two blocks off from the B&B.  My sister got the impression that we were in a questionable part of town, but it was for one night.  Besides, not long had we been walking before we arrived at what had to be one of the main thoroughfares.

It was teeming with people, shops, movie theaters, and restaurants.  We had dinner here before returning to the pub for one last drink.  Then it was bedtime, and it would have been very difficult to sleep if we hadn't just soaked some towels and draped them over our faces.

We got a great start the next day.  We were on time and headed in the right direction for the airport.  But you know what?  We got to the airport, but I wanted to fill up the tank so I wouldn't get charged for fuel.  We passed the only gas station near the airport on a one way road and I was in the lane that led back onto the M50, but the wrong way, and it took a half hour or more to get going the right way.  My sister was in tears by this time because she was convinced we were never getting out of Ireland.

But, we did.  The flight was uneventful with the exception of my feeling ill after a margarita on board which made the rest of the journey (JFK to Detroit) home miserable.  It was good to be back, though.  I even unpacked before falling flat on my face into bed.  

It was back to work the next day and life as usual.  Why is it that I always expect life to be just a little bit altered when I return from vacation?  

Oh, and my sister and I decided that we're never traveling together again.  We mean it this time.