They all asked why. That was the first answer anybody new or old wanted to know. But the best bit was, even I didn’t know why. I just had a feeling.
As plans go, this was a long one. 4 years in the making, with 2 years of strong, determined steps being taken to see it accomplished. A trip to Ireland has been in my mind for a very long time. Somehow, March 23rd 2016, had me stepping onto the streets of Dublin on a cold chilly night with the widest grin I’ve ever sported. I’d done it. I was there! And the few days I spent there were remarkable!
The traces of amazement at the fulfillment of this dream still linger, a month later. But there was something so innate about wanting to go to this country, even I was somewhat helpless to counter the yearning. I couldn’t explain it, and was tired of telling people P.S I Love You did not inspire the destination. But the words of Yeats, the pages of James Joyce, and I hesitantly admit, while a hypocritical literary snob within me scoffs, Roarke of J D Robbs had me fantasizing about Irish men and the land. The poems, the bards, the tunes and the imaginary characters and stories captivated a girl who wanted to delve into that land of fantasy.
The second, and most important choice, was to travel alone. I never wanted to go with a friend. It was to be my trip, my battle, my survival, my story. It was my first international trip, and it was to be memorable. And it was. Though, I am disappointed I did not have a green-eyed, dark-haired, 6 feet and over tall man fall head over heels in love with me and want me to marry him while he reared sheep in the morning and drank Guinness at night, the journey didn’t disappoint.
And it was a journey, a personal one. Because when I stood on the Cliffs of Moher on my final days in Ireland, and looked to the sea, there was a sense of satisfaction along with a tinge of loneliness. I would have loved to enjoy that moment with someone, but I didn’t have that person in my life. But, more than anything, I enjoyed that moment with me. I’d conquered my one or many dreams and this was a kicker! I was there, and I didn’t anyone else.
It was a moment of personal attribution, where I celebrated myself with everything that I was, and had been. I’d come a long way, and it was the perfect time to remind myself that I didn’t need a knight. I was my knight. I had slayed my dragons on my own. I’d climbed down and out the tower by myself. I didn’t someone to find fulfillment. I found it, had it, rejoiced it.
As solo trips go, this one will always be special. But there are so many facets that I need to discover about myself, I’m sure to pin down another country next!
As for what I was up to in Ireland, here is a summary. Sláinte!