It was 4:55
a.m. by the time the bus pulled into the parking lot. Having spent the night
packing, and re-packing, I was tired, excited and anxious to get to the
airport. This was the beginning of what would be a three-month European
adventure. What had been a simple application filled out on a whim, had become
a reality. I was off to Dublin, Ireland thanks to the Winslow Maxwell Program
through the University of Southern California (USC). On arrival I’d be thrown
in with 15 other USC students, sent on a job interview and given an earnest
good luck. The prospects seemed both thrilling and terrifying, but with
passport in hand I boarded the plane to set out on the summer of a lifetime.
The plane
ride I’d like to say was a blur of sleep and movies, however, it felt far
longer than a blur. My seat mate kept me occupied with talk of his strenuous
feat with booking plane tickets and security checks. I listened intently,
however, the lack of sleep began to tug at my eyes. After what may have been
the longest plane ride of my life, I began to feel my palms sweat. One last
step until I was officially on Irish soil, customs. Now in retrospect, I had no
reason to be nervous, but I’d never dealt with customs before and wasn’t sure
what to expect. I of course went through without a problem.
EUSA
quickly got us settled at our summer home, Merville Residences at the
University College of Dublin (UCD). Not wanting to fall victim to jetlag, a
group of us set out to learn the bus system and explore city centre.
Responsibilities took precedence as we ran a few errands. However, curiosity
soon won us over, and we decide that a pint of Guinness was in order. ‘When in
Ireland…’, and all that. With not a clue as to where we should go, I took lead
and walked us into, what is today still one of my favourite places in Dublin,
Sweeney’s Bar on Dame Street. The Haight-Ashbury styled murals and promise of
live music are only a part of this place’s charm. We indulged in our first pint
of Irish Guinness, and relished in the reality of the moment. We’d all made it.
The summer abroad had begun.
That first
night of attempting to over-come the eight-hour time difference wasn’t the only
adjustment made this summer. Having chosen Dublin, we all snickered when EUSA
would throw out ideas of “culture-shock”. How much different could it be? The
answer, very. However, in my opinion, I found many of the differences to be refreshing.
As we began to interact with the locals, we were in awe over how forthright and
approachable people were. It’s almost as if the Irish missed out on the
“Stranger Danger” campaigns that we Americans grew up on. Rather, everyone is a
potential mate. Keeping this in mind, we embraced the friendly spirit and set
out meeting new and interesting people, which we found at every turn.
It’s easy
to say what made this trip so special, and that’s the people we met along the
way. Wanting to see more of Ireland, all 16 of us hopped on a bus heading for
the west coast of Ireland. Our first time traveling as a group, we quickly
began to learn a good bit about each other. Traveling with friends or family
can be strenuous and stressful, traveling with strangers can be down-right
hellish. As a group, we experienced our share of growing pains. There was compromising
and yielding that had to be done, and done in a way that was trying more times
than not. That being said, we all came out better travellers, and people, from
it all.
Furthermore,
it was in Galway, the San Francisco of Ireland, that I became enamoured with the
country. It was after a night of fun with the group, that we met these
interesting characters in a pub named Monroe’s. They asked “What’s the story?”,
and we answered with our tales of how we all had made it from L.A. to Ireland.
Those of you who aren’t versed in Irish slang, “What’s the story?” is like
saying “How’s it going?” or “What’s up?”, needless to say, we gave them more of
an answer than they were expecting. Amused, they quickly told us that they were
about to go to a bonfire on the beach. With an adventurous glimmer in our eyes,
we walked out with our new friends. The night was nothing short of magical. It
was one of those moments that you know while you’re in it that something
amazing is happening. The bonfire crackled as the sea kissed the shore. Guitar
strings strummed a familiar melody as the voices chattering took up the chorus.
It was there on that beach that I fell in love with Ireland.
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My last
trip out of Ireland was one of impromptu planning. I’ve always been spontaneous
by nature, and when you come across a kindred spirit, it almost always leads to
an adventure. A week and a half out, a girl from the trip, Laura, and I decide
that we were going to Prague. The city seduced us with its odd museums,
medieval architecture and promise of low costs. Having become fast friends, we
were curious to see how we did as travel companions. Luckily, it was as close
to perfect as we could get. We meandered through the winding streets, eating
delicious food and taking in all that the city had to offer. The city its self
is beautiful. It’s how I’d always imagined a European city to look, with the
old churches, and cobblestone walk ways that often lead to dead ends. The trip
left me feeling cultured in a way that I hadn’t yet felt.