The Boarding House.
With a jolt and a bump did we land in the darkness of a Dublin night–our eyes not yet wearied, our hearts steadfast. From the plane we found our way to customs, and after a stamp that induced jealousy throughout the party (you see as members of the “European Union,” their passports were only checked and not stamped), we were officially in the Land of Ire. Our first official business, then, was to find a way to our convenient and practically located hostel (I should note the latter part of that sentence should be read without irony, or ironless, as it was a very convenient and practical hostel.). There are many options when traveling from the airport, which is about 1-2 km outside the city, to the heart of downtown Dublin. But since it was nearing on 11 o’clock at night the only options for us were bus or taxi. A taxi would run about 5-6 euros per person, whereas the bus was a measly, and suffice to say, appetizing 1.90. The choice was no-brainer.
As we sat inside the luxurious and comfortably conditioned interior of a Dublin taxi I thought of the scores of mindless and obviously misinformed miscreants that were queuing onto the bus as we drove pass, hurriedly winding our way to our haven of hostels. Ha! Just kidding. We took the bus.
‘Why would I pay 6 euro, for something I can get for 1.90,’ I thought as I sat uncomfortably on a rigid bus bench watching the scores of smiling, supercilious faces rush past in taxis, seemingly saying, ‘You were misinformed you sad, sad little man.’ But the bus was a double decker. How could you say no to a Double Decker? Furthermore, how could you fight the urge to sit on the second deck of said Double Decker? Simply put, we could not fight and we winded our way up the stairs to perch above the single decks of cars that lined the streets that fateful Dublin Night. So we sat with wide-eyes above the world of single story automobiles–locking eyes with men and women leaning out of their second story apartments, nodding confidently as if to say, ‘Yes, we have seen the light. And it is good.’ As we arrived at our stop, slowly did we amble down those stairs–not ready to live among those at the bottom tier, but our ride among the heavens had to end sometime, so with heavy heart and heads hung high we stepped out onto the sidewalks of Dublin.
‘It’s kinda dirty,’ was bouncing around my head, at times almost falling from lips. But in my infinite wisdom as a traveler who was not looking for the touristy unnaturalness of so many places I let it bounce around with the thought, ‘But that’s how it’s supposed to be.’ So we walked, a bit uneasily I would say, to the hostel where we were to stay. We entered, excitement pulsing through our veins, ever anxious to see where our homestead would be.
‘It’s kinda smelly.’ Our room was quite nice with hardwood floors, rather attractive lighting, and unstained walls and bed-sheets, a very nice amenity in a city hostel. The only draw back was it was a room of 16 people adjacent to a room of 12 people all with whom we shared two toilets, two sinks and two showers with. Again my rugged adventuresome manliness assured me that indeed, ‘That is how it’s supposed to be,’ while my lazy, easily embarrassed, uncaring side thought quietly, ‘I just won’t shower.’
That may have been the smell.
That night we decided it would be in our best interest to rest up for the next day, where we would skip the streets with Joy arm in arm, laugh and tumble in the grass with Fun, play hopscotch with Happiness, and roundhouse kick Anger in the face. So after a night where my bed bunk buddy–some woman, who, to put it lightly (pun intended(wait for it)), weighed down the bed until it was inches above my face (slight exaggeration), spent the entire night playing with the idea of coughing up a lung, I was surprisingly well rested for the day ahead (follow all that? (It’s Joycean. No big deal.))
And what did you do on that day? you may ask. That day of wonder, that day of night! That day of royal beauty bright (westward leading, still proceeding, guide us to thy Perfect Light (see what I did there?)). But seriously, what did we do, that would go down as one of the most amazing, awesome, awe-inspiring adventures in the history of the world?
Well, you’re just gonna have to wait another month for the shocking finale of Dubliners (that might leave an opening for a sequel, depending on how much money it makes).
