Getting a stellar deal on a flight always seems like a good idea …
Until you have to wake up at 3am to catch said flight.
Then you rue the day you ever purchased it.
It was time to leave Iceland, and I was honestly pretty excited about leaving the frigid weather. I would definitely love to go back, but maybe with a parka. Maybe not a wardrobe that’s ready for summertime Spain, you know? One can only layer the same things so many times.
When I stepped outside and discovered that Dublin was a sunny 65, I found that second wind. Especially when I immediately fell in love with this city. There’s just something about the cozy shops and fast paced walking that I resonate with.
Because 2pm seems to be the magic time for check-in at hostels, I had about five hours to kill. Luckily, there’s a beautiful park called St. Stephen’s Garden that was beckoning me. I dropped off my laundry at a place down the road (7 euros, heck yes) and grabbed sushi at this tiny, wonderful place. After that, I found a sunny patch at the park and read my book (currently reading Big Little Lies. Super good).
I honestly never thought I’d say these words: I got a small sunburn while in Dublin. Say whaaat?
As I began to pack up my backpack and head back to the hostel, my phone died at 15%. And I didn’t have my charger with me. All the fail.
So I would be finding my way back to the hostel “all on me own” (said in my superb Irish accent).
A good memory goes a long way when traveling. I knew I headed south when leaving my hostel. So it seemed logical to begin heading north. I remembered that I crossed a bridge, so it also seemed logical to find the river.
Based solely on my attention to detail and recollection of the shops I passed, I was able to find the hostel again. Honestly, I’m feeling preeeeeetty proud of myself.
My reward? Discovering an Irish jam session in the basement.