Stand Clear, luggage doors operate: Ireland blog part One: travelling

Miss me? Its been FOREVER since my last blog, it feels like. Something like two weeks. So be prepared because I have a lot to write. Basically, I'm going to break it down and write blogs like I was writing them as I went along. Ireland will be two parts, getting there and back, then what I actually did while in Ireland. Then I'll go through the rest of Spring break and last week. Unfortunately, since I have a lot of ground to cover, I won't be going in as much detail as I usually do. But I'll do my best, no worries.

Getting from Florence to Limerick was very trying. I have become used to travelling in Italy, especially since most of the traveling I've done on my own and with public transportation has happened here so even though the language was the same, I actually found it harder to make my way through Ireland. My journey started at 4:30 am on Friday, March 19 because my roommate and I wanted to take the cheap train and that was the only one that left early enough to make our flight. We arrived in Bologna, took a train from the bus station to the airport then slept (well, Alaina slept, I "dozed"). Our plane left at around 11. The most incredible moment occured during the plane ride of the entire journey: flying over the Alps. We were flying along and I looked out the window to see these strange white things poking out of the clouds. The were so lovely and I'm pretty sure I saw a glacier glinting among the peaks.

After landing came the fun part: finding my bus(es). What does one usually do when trying to find where to go? Follow the signs, duh. So I followed the signs for Bus Eirran (sp?) and where did I end up? In a random and deserted parking lot. So I went back to the airport and headed to what I thought was the tourist information desk. It was not. They directed me to the real tourist info desk who then directed me to the next desk over. Whew! I finally could buy my ticket. So I headed out to find the 747 bus which would take me to the main dublin bus station, Busàras. So, again I followed the signs. This time I found some bus stops but couldn't find the 747 one anywhere though its route was on all the maps. I wandered from stop to stop before I gave up and asked some random Irish boy (boy as in my age, not like a five year old) where the 747 stop was. I was directed back the way I came to the front of the airport. Finally I found the stupid bus and got on. (I found out later that the ticket I bought at the station did not cover the 747 bus but I thought it did so I definitely got a free ride. Don't worry. The universe did not let me get away with it. Stay tuned, my loves).

When I arrived at the station I had a half an hour before my bus left for Limerick. I spent that half hour frantically searching for the bathroom (the first and only time I will pay to pee) then procuring sustenance for the 4 hour ride ahead. And now I come to the title of my post. Every time we made a stop a mechanized (Irish accented of course) voice came on repeating those words over and over again. Even after the doors had closed and we were rumbling away down the road. By the time I arrived in Limerick, I was pretty annoyed. But hoorah! I made it! (See my next blog for my Irish adventures.)

me, dan and cait in an irish pub

The journey back... I bid my friends goodbye and boarded the Limerick bus that would take my into the city's center so I could make my bus back to Dublin. I left over an hour early, to give myself plenty of time to find the station since the bus would not be taking me directly there. And it was a good thing too. The bus I was hoping to catch was the absolute last one and they didn't start running again until too late the next morning. Dan drew me a map before leaving and I clutched that thing like a lifeline after arriving alone in the chilly city center. So I started walking, searching for the streets that would take me to the bus station. The problem was, I had no idea what direction I was heading. Curse the cloudy Irish skies! (yes that makes sense: there was no sun to tell me what direction west was.) I didn't find the streets I was told to look for and refused to listen to my instincts which were telling me I had to go up and over, insisting to myself that I needed to find the streets on the map. I couldn't find them and I couldn't find them and I was starting to panic even though I still had 40 minutes before my bus left. So I asked the first person I saw (an amazing feat considering the streets were pretty much empty). Guess where he told me to go? Up and over. (I mentally smacked myself.) Unfortunately the road deadended at a park. So this time I listened to myself and picked the direction my instincts were telling me to go. And, lo and behold, there it was! I wept with relief. (Not really, I just thought that would sound nice and melodramatic.) The only interesting part about the bus ride was the place we stopped for the midway break... a snazzy club where the music was already playing, the lights flashing and the smoke machine working. It was completely empty though.

After arriving (finally) back in Dublin the universe decided to restore cosmic balance. The 747 busses had stopped running 10 minutes before (which I would have made if my bus had been on time btw) and the first ones didn't start running until 10 minutes after my plane leaves the next morning. So I was forced to pay for a cab. Bugger. The cab driver was sympathetic and let go a traditional Irish phrase in commiseration: "ah, fer f***'s sake". Then he let me know that the next morning the cabs were striking and these were the last cabs from the bus station for the night. So I did get lucky in that regard.

After a refreshing (not. I was too paranoid to fall asleep because I had no alarm) night spent in the Dublin airport I was back in the sky and on my way home. A bus ride later I was at the Bologna bus station. I debated waiting and checking Bologna out but I was too exhausted and dehydrated to entertain that idea for more than a second. Speaking of exhausted... after I bought my ticket my sleep-deprived brain transposed the minutes of the time the train left making me think it left at 35 instead of 53. The time was 12:36 so I thought the ticket machine had sold me an unusable ticket. Which made me a little angry. So I stood in line to try and get a new ticket for a later train and confused the poor woman working in the window. Becuase she knew that the train didn't leave for another 20 minutes. I think she finally got it though and circled the time on the ticked for me. Yeah. I kinda wanted to kick myself. But the rest of the journey passed witout incident and I was finally able to drag myself home.