Dublin is not like Belfast.
Each time I go there, I feel as though I hit culture shock as great or greater than when I visit The States.
It's crowded always, as dirty as Belfast is clean, loud, and trying to find an actual Dubliner is pretty near impossible.
However, Jansie was flying back to Oklahoma from Dublin, and it is the capitol of the republic, so we decided to explore. And, despite my wee grudge against its "city"ness, it is pretty good looking.
After some bus struggles (when do I not have bus struggles?), we made it into the city: Jansie with The Book of Kells on her mind, and me with a countdown of 15 minutes to find free wifi in a semi-quiet location.
Off we went!!
My mom understands my hang-up about books. How could she not? She's the one who instilled them into my heart. She read aloud to me hours and hours of fairy tales and Laura Ingalls Wilder and Nancy Drew, not to mention all the books on tape we listened to when painting a room or going on a road trip.
Thus, she loved The Trinity Library and Book of Kells exhibit, or so she said. I was not present for that section of her journey. I was off skyping. But more about that in a few days. :)
Next came a run-in at a local bookshop. It was so darling I wanted to pocket it and take it home. There were so many books I wanted to read!!! And yet, so many that are still on the "to-read" shelf that must be cared-for first.
From there, the hapometers were sinking (4pm and still hadn't eaten. YIKES!), so we sought out sustenance, finding a sweet little place whose name I have entirely forgotten, and it fit our qualifications perfectly: cozy, inexpensive, delicious.
On to the Dublin Castle and gardens and an attempt at the Chester Beatty Library, but it was 5 and closing. Woah. Time really disappeared there.
and a lovely cathedral...
The rest is a blur: a walk to bus 16, a flurry of languages on said bus, a drop off in the pouring rain, and snuggles and Amelie and sleep. Then she was gone.
I love my ma. We're often too different and often too similar and often we struggle against division by a common language, but nobody snuggles or loves or takes care of you quite like your mom can. Nobody's driving skills can make you want to wet yourself quite like your mom's can either, but man. For all our mutual crazy and ability to drive (ha! Drive. Completely unintentional pun.) one another mad at times, I would not trade my mama for anybody.
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