Another early morning.
That morning, I was pretty much in pain from having to leave.
Looking out from the balcony reminded me EXACTLY of being on Drew's balcony the night of the Sky Loft gallery opening mid-December last year.
It felt like FOREVER ago.
I woke up early to get ready for our last day in Ireland. I snuck past an Irishman of rugby-playing build who was probably sleeping off a night of drinking and unlocked the door to the balcony. I gently pulled the door shut behind me.
I was only wearing my socks; the painted concrete beneath my feet was only slightly chilly. I walked to the edge and breathed in the 9AM Irish air. I heard something shuffle about behind me, so I turned to see our Irish buddy taking a sip from his water bottle. The door had opened up; I was confused. I guessed that the door wouldn't shut without turning the key.
In any event, I returned my attention to the rooftops and chimney tops of Ireland. (And by the way, I promise you, I will reiterate the fact that it was IRELAND for as many times as I can possibly bear it.) The sky was perfectly clear. Alright, maybe a cloud or two, but only just enough to offset the blue and remind you of how blue and perfect the rest of the scene was. Later, we'd be told time and again how lucky we got that the weather was so beautiful and clear- how it didn't rain a bit.
I started humming some line from "The Cave" by Mumford and Sons. Only appropriate enough. Then I stopped. I stopped to remember the sounds, sights, and smells I was experiencing. Most vividly, I remember the sounds. I closed my eyes and listened intently. I could hear first and foremost, the birds. Seagulls, to be exact. I keep forgetting that Dublin is nearly on the coast. They cawed in rhythm with loud clinking of the glasses that were more than likely coming from a bar cleaning up the night before. For awhile, it was CLINK... CAW-CLINK... CAW-CLINK... and so on, until the CLINK concluded. Machinery hummed and cars could be heard. I was home.
We made our way to the Guinness Store house.
You can't see it, but the guy made a little shamrock :)
They might have brainwashed me, but I have to declare that Guinness is now my drink of choice.
River Liffey. So Inner Harbor-ish.
THE COLORS! I'm even more in love.
The streets... There is a ridiculous amount of Irish influence in Baltimore. High Street, Townsend Street, Fleet Street (street I stayed on and a main street in Baltimore), Hannover, etc...) and the actual streets themselves looked so much like Fells Point. It was almost eerie. But beautiful.
Christ Church, I believe?
And then St. Patrick's Park. BEAUTIFUL, of course.
Some youngun's playing rugby/soccer?
I looked at this as a small preview. I pretty much fell tragically in love within less than 24 hours, and came to the conclusion that I'm living here.
I'd never forgive myself if I didn't come back.