There was a Phone Call

This week Dale and I tagged along after the Fitzgeralds crowd to a pub called Cassidy’s, which was just around the corner. It was loud and colourful with writing all over the walls, and also provided us with free lollipops and board games. As it was officially Sophie and Joyanne’s birthday, we had cake, got tipsy, and made a mess with Jenga blocks. KT’s friend from Ottawa was there for the week, and I was a little jealous, but I remembered that I will have guests of my own soon enough!

Tuesday was my first day of training at what I found out is called The White Pepper Café. Anna and Richard are the owners, and they ran through typical safety and employee expectations for us. Then they had a young Irish man named Yuan come in to teach us about their expensive coffee. He told us how the beans were picked and washed, and what each type tastes like. It took forever for him to show us how to set up the machine in the morning because the espresso shot he was practicing on had to be perfect. It was a little agonizing having to sit through this opening process for a least an hour before moving on to learn how to steam milk. By the end of the day we had yet to learn how to brew a cup of coffee, but he reminded us that we were learning from a company that was able to compete in worldwide barista competitions. Who knew a cup of coffee could be so complicated. We received an hour-long lunch break in which the six of us employees went up to the Kylemore Café and had a little group bonding session. I am working with an Italian guy named Giovanni, a Polish woman named Angela, a 21-year-old completing her Master’s Degree named Rachael, another Rachael who will be the chef, and Hazel, the 24-year-old manager. Later in the week we were introduced to John, a film student who seems to have the most coffee-making experience of us all. Anna also told us that there will be an assistant manager position available soon, and since two of the group will be working in the kitchen, two more need to work only weekends, and one is already the manager, it almost sounds like that position is between Giovanni and myself. This could be interesting…

A photo from USIT of us attending Riverdance!

Immediately after work Dale and I had to hop on a bus to meet the USIT group members who were attending a dinner and Riverdance! It only cost me 15 euros as a student, but I think we benefited from a group deal. We found out from our waiter at the Italian restaurant that the dancers actually come to that restaurant afterwards to celebrate. We met some new SWAPers there who were very nice and, not surprisingly, Canadian. One lady in particular made us laugh by groaning when we said, "Canucks" instead of "Maple Leaves." Riverdance itself was amazing, of course, but I was confused about the story-line and realized afterwards that I probably should have bought a programme—it was more about the evolution of Irish dancing than it was a story. The quickness of their feet was impressive, and my favourite scene was of an evening party in the country, where the dancers held hands in a circle, cheering and laughing as the lighting slowly imitated a sunset. Afterwards we had to make the hour walk home (in a dress I bought in Vegas) since we had no money for the bus and taxis don’t accept Visas.

The rest of the work week we spent making sandwiches, practicing on the till—which is the same till I used back at MTF. Good or depressing?—learning some cleaning procedures, and slowly having our questions answered. Each day we thought we would be opening the store and were surprised by more training instead. They simply aren’t ready to open yet. The official story is that we will open for a few hours tomorrow and Wednesday, then open fully Thursday. We are not working weekends yet, though I might not have to work weekends at all. And luckily, we are paid for training, though many places here don’t do that. We also will be allowed a free sandwich on our hour-long lunch breaks. I have yet to find out how much money we will be paid, but I do know that I will be the main cashier.

I was impressed by the gluten-free options, and the fresh daily produce, meats, and baked goods. Each day the store also looked more and more complete. It is mainly black, white, and grey apart from the pink counter. But now there are also cushions, large black and white images of Paris and New York on the walls, and another tall and narrow picture of a stack of books near the front, plus a little black kiddie table in the back corner.

I have already accidentally said, “dollars,” instead of “euros,” and “chips,” instead of “crisps,” and I know that will take a little time to get used to saying. I’m a little more concerned with understanding Giovanni’s accent, to be honest. But overall the group seems very likeable, and I have walked part of the way home with student-Rachael a few times already. As usual with a new job, I’ve been fairly stressed out since the interview, but it’s nice to know we’re all going through the process together. I half can’t wait until we get into a routine, and I’m half dreading it in case it’s too boring. Rachael seems pretty confidant that the atmosphere will be relaxed and that we’ll be chatting with the customers rather than rushing around all day. I do like the fact that we get to wear whatever we want for pants and shoes, that does sound relaxed. I can’t wait to get our uniform tops though, since I only have so many black shirts from my luggage. And since it’s boiling hot in there so far, making for sweaty work days.

Enjoying Irish sunshine

We did get off work early a few times last week, and one day happened to be beautiful. Dale and I grabbed apples from the fridge and wandered over to park nearby, where we lay sunbathing in the grass with other Vitamin-D starved citizens. The park was full of toddlers and babies sprinting as best as they could around a circular flower garden in the middle. There were balls and bubbles floating around, making for plenty of little people-watching.

Kids playing

At some point in the week I received my PPS number after very little waiting, which I gave to Anna immediately. Off work early another day, Dale and I went to the bank to set up our account and are waiting to hear back from them. I’ve been doing yoga a few times a week using Jillian Michaels videos off of Youtube, but I’m still not feeling very healthy, and Dale, in the meantime, is still looking thin. So we decided to take more notice of what we’re eating now that we’re starting to settle into life here. Dale’s problem had mostly been lack of structured eating times, as well as being concerned about spending money we don’t really have on food. So it’s a good thing there was a phone call on Saturday!

It was Lenehan’s Hardware, the one shop we both walked into that was actually hiring. They didn’t even have a sign up at the time, and two weeks later, they finally called my cell. The man I spoke to mentioned both of us, and asked if I was still available. I said I wasn’t but immediately said that Dale was and asked if he wanted to speak to him. The man did, and I watched Dale make a note saying that the guy would call back on Monday to arrange an interview sometime this week. The hardware store is just down the road from the Swan Centre. If Dale gets it we may even be able to take our breaks at the same time. Both The White Pepper Café and Lenehan’s Hardware locations are prime for us, so when Dale hung up we threw our hands up at the same time and let out one cheer: “Whoo!”

We went over some typical interview questions in preparation. Then I did some writing, finally feeling a little re-energized with my novel; I haven’t been able to focus on it since getting here. But the next day we stayed in our pyjamas and I read the entire Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone on the Tablet. With no regrets.

Nights Out and Nailing the Interview

I went for my interview in the Swan Centre, which was only a 15 minute walk from our house. I arrived just in time to meet a blonde woman at the Kylemore Café upstairs. She asked me to talk about my work experience, so I started from the beginning and talked about my first job in the concession of an ice rink, and how the building could hold up to 5000 people all wanting food within a four hour period. I joked about how it was scary for a first job, but made a point to talk about being placed in both the Popcorn and Dominoe’s Pizza stands without any assistance or supervision. Apparently this was the right choice, and I didn’t even get to talking about my most recent job. She was happy with how much cashiering experience I have, and when I told her my coffee-making experience is minimal to the point of pressing a button, she said, “That’s okay, we’ll train you.” Within ten minutes she had offered me the job with an, “I don’t usually do this but…” I took it on the spot.

Dale was waiting for me at the other end of the food court and was surprised when I showed up after only a sip or two of his coffee. What a relief it was to have my first interview over with! The job will most likely be minimum wage since it is a start-up company that my new employer, Anna, is building with her husband. And I mean “building” quite literally. We walked past the location downstairs, and the only aspect that wasn’t covered in hanging plastic or jip rock was the girlishly pink counter along the right wall. I’m not even sure what the café’s name is yet. My first training session will be tomorrow. Dale and I did our grocery shopping, which is a frustrating process to me, and we ended up carrying it all home in the rain. I collected my pay from Barry, which was a total of 240 euros. I also did a Skype chat with Brandie, who is moving into her first home back in Canada this week. It’s crazy that a friend I have had since I was seven is now the proud owner of a house! The conversation had to be a little short, but it was nice to see a familiar face. Later in the week I also spoke to my mom, Sydnee, Dominique, and even our cat, Loki. After taking the bus to Fitzgeralds that night, Joyanne broke out her ukulele and everyone in the nook behind us started cheerfully singing popular Irish songs like Galway Girl. We were invited to another bar, O’Neill’s, on Wednesday, and to Joyanne and Sophie’s birthday party on Friday.

Dublin from Daniel O'Connell's lap

Before going to O’Neill’s, Dale and I made a trip into town to stop at the USIT office. We had just found out that if Dale had a bill with his name on it and our address, he could then write a letter confirming that I was living with him. We wrote the letter at USIT, and paid for our tickets to Riverdance for tomorrow after my training (I’m hoping the timing will work out alright!), then walked to the PPS building so that I could finally apply for my number. Since it took forever and it sounded like the girl beside me was going to die of cough, Dale headed out into town on his own. He applied for jobs and picked up some strings for one of the guitars. I used my British passport to apply for my PPS number, and now have to wait about a week to receive it in the mail. Then we can finally set up a bank account! We ate Subway on the statue of Daniel O’Connell’s lap, then went home for a short rest and a glass of wine. It turned out not to be very relaxing. I had grabbed a glass from the back of the cupboard and only noticed after taking a sip that a spider’s legs were lolling in my drink.

Looking up at Daniel

At O'Neill's

O’Neill’s was much more pleasant. It turned out to be right across the road from where we usually get off the bus. We went upstairs and found Sophie, Tessa, and KT looking out over the oak counter at the very small bandstand. The band itself was small too, with only a guitarist and accordion player, but both were very good. We sang along to “Tell Me Ma,” “Little Lion Man,” and “Galway Girl,” which Tessa assured me she was not sick of yet. We watched a girl from one of the Pub Crawl crowds getting pulled onto the stage for some Irish dancing, and then the other three slowly headed home at different times. Dale and I stayed until last call, and ended up getting pulled into a conversation with a young Irish guy. The guitarist overheard him mistake us Canadians for Americans and called him out for it, which was hilarious. I reassured the guy that we were expecting that mistake right from the start, and that we weren’t really offended. He continued to chat almost non-stop as his girlfriend sat by quietly, then signed off by pinching Dale’s chest. Pretty weird guy.

Temple Bar at night

Thursday Dale went job hunting on his own in the rain, and came home feeling unsuccessful, but he has had some luck with jobs.ie since, including a posting for a horticulturalist, a job that he might actually have some experience in to back him up. In our odd bits of spare time we have started watching Doctor Who and playing a lot of Crash Bandicoot on Dale’s PSP, which is a game I rock at since I used to play it as a kid. On Friday we wandered around Dublin looking for the Dublin City Library and Archives building, which was supposed to be easy to find and somehow wasn't. I wanted to go to the free Genealogy event they had planned. As it turned out, tons of other people had the same idea, so we essentially had to take a number and go out to find coffee. For once it was decent coffee, but the library closed at 4:30 so that left me with half an hour to talk to a Genealogy expert. And the woman said I didn't have enough information to go on. She gave me advice, such as pick a living relative and either ask them for information to get me started, or start with their birth date and work my way back through the generations to marriage certificates, etc. She suggested using the websites findmypast.co.uk, or ancestry.com. I was a little disappointed, especially because these websites cost money, but I'm glad I went and found out what information was available. I would have been upset if I had missed it.

Then it was time for the birthday party, but we realized it would be difficult to get to because we are in the south and it is in the north. We took a bus into the town centre and were thinking about hailing a cab when we spotted the number 16 ahead of us. We didn’t think there was a chance of making that one, so we were very surprised and lucky when we were able to just walk right onto it! The party was at Joyanne’s house, which she shares with two male roommates from Cork. Most of the USIT group was already there, and the night commenced with vodka shots and chanting something in Russian. A new Canadian from Edmonton was there, as well as the Vancouverite, who told us about his travel plans and graphic design career. He clearly did better on the education-to-career mission than I did. Joyanne was delighted that Dale and I had taken her advice to watch “A Very Potter Musical” on Youtube, and we had a good laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Our cab ride home only cost 15 euros, so all in all, I was happy we had gone and gotten to know some of the group in a more one-on-one setting.

A group of SWAPers

On Sunday we found a giant snail way up on our front curtains. It had blended in very well. The type of wolf spider we found up there today was a little more noticeable. Even with the other spiders and now the snail, I felt pretty safe in this flat, but not so much anymore. It’s time to get out the tape and start sealing up all the cracks we can find. On a nicer note, we dropped by Niall and Leonie’s to give them some flowers (Chrysanthemums, of course) and a thank you card, and in return received a hair dryer, curling rod, and beer. They had just come back from their own vacation the week before, so we stayed for a chat. They also let us borrow some screwdrivers to get rid of our rusting shower rack, as well as their air mattress for when Julie and Stu come to visit us in a few weeks!

The giant snail on our curtains

Blessing of the Boats

The bus strike had us walking from our home in Rathmines to the city centre so we could attend a social event that USIT (SWAP) hosts every Monday. It took us a full hour, so we were relieved that it was sunny but not hot out. We kept our eye open for “help wanted” signs in the glinting windows along the way, but didn’t spot a single one. After passing by a large grey stone church and a few tiny cobbled alleys near Dublin Castle (more of a large courtyard than a castle, really), we came to Fitzgeralds, which overlooks the Liffey River and O’Connell Bridge in a prime location right beside USIT. We walked into the very dark, wooden-bar atmosphere and chose a table towards the back. It turned out the other SWAPers were sitting in a nook behind us, though not many had arrived yet. We joined them after asking the waitress, and we were immediately met with groans and laughs from the group when we said we were Canadian. Half the group was Canadian. The one American girl was leaving for her own country shortly, and so were two Germans and even one Vancouverite! They told us that throughout the year the group had slowly changed from a majority of Germans to the now majority of Canadians. With a delicious 5euro meal and a free drink, the evening passed fairly quickly as we asked and were asked the same questions: where are you from; when did you get here; how long are you staying; do you have a place to stay yet; do you have a job yet? There was something refreshing about hearing people complain about missing their cars, finding work, Skype chats, and long walks without our precious buses running. I had been a little nervous to go to the social, but I knew it would be worth while in the long run. We were invited to a birthday party the next night as some of the group started to roll cigarettes inside the pub.

We didn’t end up going to the party, though it was nice to be included in the invite so immediately. I had a job to go to in the morning, which Niall told me about the night before. It was for Leonie’s dad, and I would be collating market research on Irish banks. I was able to walk virtually around the corner from our place to his. I rang the doorbell on a large green door and was welcomed in to discover I would be working in an office to myself upstairs. I enjoyed the actual tasks, which essentially included turning data into tally charts. Barry said I took to it well, and that a lot of people don’t. It simply isn’t for them. He also said the best girl he had had in the past was Canadian, so I made sure to keep up that good impression. His very kind wife, Della, brought me tea and biscuits mid-morning every day for that week of employment.

Unfortunately I had to leave work in the middle of one particular day for an interview. I walked for about 15 minutes to the Swan Centre under a bright but grey sky. The interview was for a new café, but when I arrived at another café where I was supposed to meet my interviewer, I couldn’t seem to find her. The tables surrounded a circular viewing area of the mall below, so I walked around it more than once, trying to make eye contact with my potential employer. I asked the cashier at the café if she knew anything, but she didn’t. Eventually I called Dale and asked him to check my email. Despite having my phone number, the woman had sent me an email during business hours—which meant I was already at work—to cancel. Angry that I had been wandering around like an idiot and losing precious working hours, I ran a quick errand at the post office for Barry and then hurried back. I found it difficult to reschedule the interview because of the stupidity of the situation, but agreed to try again on Monday.

I was nervous for work on Saturday because Barry had asked how I was with math the day before. I answered honestly and said it was not my strong suit, which led to an awkward full ten seconds of staring at each other. When I arrived on the math day, he asked me some on-the-spot percentage questions, and naturally I froze. They were simple questions, yet I gave him the wrong answer to one of them more than once. I tried to explain that I just tend to freeze when people ask me math questions, and he interrupted, saying in both a stern and an understanding tone of voice, “It’s a block. This is simple math. All you have to do is remove it and you’ll see.” He went on to say that he has blocks regarding other subjects, and told me a story about helping one of his kids to remove their block. I knew he was right. After all, I’ve been struggling with this block my whole life. But the way he talked about it being of my own construction was somehow different than how I’d been thinking about it before. It was forgiving to say it was a just a personally constructed block, and not stupidity. I got to work counting the tallies, but never did do anything with percentages in the end. I’m not sure if I scared him off, if he didn’t want to make me any more uncomfortable, or if he really didn’t have any more work at the moment, like he said. But he asked me to call anytime, and to let him know how the job hunt goes. I still have to get my PPS number to him when I finally have it myself, and I’ll be picking up my very good pay on Monday or Tuesday. In three and a bit days of work, one of the days being interrupted, I have almost entirely covered my half of next month’s rent.

Every time I returned home in the evening, Dale was playing games on his PSP. I started to get really annoyed because there is no room in the kitchen for dirty dishes and we have to wash them before every meal just to use them, which wasn’t happening. I left a note with instructions about the laundry one day, and it turns out the laundry machine was broken, so when I came home for my wonderful hour-long lunch break I had to encourage him to call the landlord and sort it out. I had been hoping to have it done in the morning so it would dry faster, but Dale slept through the morning anyways. The laundry machines are operated by a coin system, which turned out to be the busted part. Luck was on our side because even though we’d lost one coin to the damn thing, laundry was now free temporarily. So Dale spent the rest of the day washing all our laundry, our bed sheets, and our towels. We hung them to dry on our drying rack in the living room, which didn’t take up as much room as we had worried it would. Another day, Dale got out of the house to hand out three resumes.

Waking up to the ocean

Our room at Vincent and Rosaleen's

Someone did this on purpose, right? And yes, I did try it out...

Saturday evening Rosaleen invited us for dinner and a night in Dalkey, which we accepted gladly. I had been hoping to go to Newgrange on Sunday because I felt a little trapped being indoors in Ireland so much, but we couldn’t seem to sort out how to get there. The plan is to ask for some advice before we go further. It was nice to get out of the city atmosphere in Dublin too.

Dalkey in the evening

         

In the Magpie

We had dinner with Rosaleen and Vincent, then Dale and I wandered down to the tram yard for coffee. We were surprised to find all the tables packed or reserved, and had to go to the Magpie instead. We ordered Irish coffees at the bar, then took a spot at a round table outside as the evening darkened. Dale started to talk about how stressed he has been feeling lately. It turns out being home alone wasn’t doing him any favours as he worried more and more about not having a job, his dwindling savings, and the possibility of having to go home and having no job or money back there either.

He is home sick for being able to do whatever he wants with his money, and the comfort that that brings. It seems like his thoughts are in a downward spiral of pessimism that I hope he can shake. I’m a completely different story. I’ve been broke my whole life, especially as a

university student, so I’m quite used to saving and not drowning in the worry. Not to mention the fact that if I had money to spend, I’d be spending it on Ireland! I’m living a dream, and I’m willing to sacrifice financial security for the experience. But I know Dale needs a job and a schedule to feel like he has purpose, and to feel justified in enjoying this experience. I tried to

Dale trying to be cheerful

encourage him to hand out more resumes and to be confident when doing so, but I also said a prayer that night that something will turn up for him soon. It would be terrible for him to miss out on the culture and sights around us just because he is stressed. I really don’t think it hurt that we got out of the house to Dalkey.

Videos:

The Blessing of the Boats (try 1:24 secs of the second video for a view of the surroundings)

The arrival of the Life Boat

On Sunday there was a “Blessing of the Boats” ceremony in Bullock Harbour. Rosaleen suggested that Dale and I wander down to check it out. We arrived to a gathering crowd on the stony pier, and live Irish music starting up. A seal kept popping its head out of the water closer and closer to those of us who chose to sit looking out at the ocean. He was a big ham, blinking his large watery eyes for the camera and disappearing under the water now and then so that the kids would shout, “There’s the seal!” when he resurfaced. A Life boat came speeding into the harbour to cheers from the crowd, and the priest who would be saying a blessing disembarked. The King of Dalkey, also known as the mayor, turned up in a furry white robe and crown, smiling with adults and kids alike for photographs. We had a moment of silence facing the Irish flag, then the priest said a blessing for the boats, asking that they be kept safe and that their nets be filled. When all this was finished, the music recommenced and a group of little kids started to dance happily to Galway Girl. I enjoyed the family-friendly atmosphere, but Dale still seemed a little morose, so when the wind picked up we wandered back up to the house. 

The King of Dalkey

The seal at our feet

While Dale was upstairs, Rosaleen found not one, but two guitars for us in the shed! One of them has a crack down the side and what almost looks like a bullet hole as well, but it still plays nicely. Vincent said it was from Mexico originally, and he had played it for as long as they had lived in California. Now it’s in Ireland for two Canadians to play. The other guitar was missing two strings, but it shouldn’t be difficult to replace them. Both were very dusty, so I cleaned them off with a little bit of water, a cloth, and quite a few Q-tips, then called Dale down for his surprise. He smiled widely for a second when he saw both of the guitars sitting in the sun room, then grabbed one and immediately started to tune it.

The Hunt Ends

Niall and Leonie's

On Monday Dale and I were starting to feel pretty antsy.  Luckily, when we checked on daft.ie, there were more lettings to view. The realtors had clearly been off work for the weekend. One of the places showed no pictures as it had been put up moments before, and of the other two, one looked interesting, and we took a chance on the other. Dale forced me to make some phone calls this time since he had been scheduling most viewings. I hate making phone calls, but did want to contribute. We first walked to the place with no photos, which was only 15 minutes from Niall’s home. It was inside a red brick house and was the first flat after passing through the two front doors, the stained glass above the inner door reading, “Glenart.” As usual, the flat was small, but it was actually better than most of the other places we viewed because it had a very tall bay window, making the room quite bright, as well as a separate bedroom instead of being a studio. It was a little on the dingy side because of its age, but I was most taken with the windows, and Dale with the good neighbourhood. We were turned off by the laundry machines being in a shed in the back garden—which has no grass and is surrounded by grey brick walls. However, it was out of our price range at 700 euros per month. The reason we went to check it out was because the heating bill is included in that 700.

Our room in Niall and Leonie's place

Our walk back to Niall’s was rainy, and I’m sure I looked funny wearing bright red shorts and hiding under an umbrella at the same time. By the time Niall was home and could drive us to our next viewings, it was sunny again. We were interested in the house on Leister Road, which had a long green back garden and laundry inside the apartment. Unfortunately we discovered that the washing machine was broken and you had to share the ones out in the shed. Plus it was a studio and had, as Dale later put it, “Not enough room to do a push-up.”  The next place we visited was another single room where the bed was around the corner, but still virtually in the kitchen. The lady we spoke to was very helpful, and she suggested we try to catch her husband at another flat that he was about to sell. Niall made sure we snatched up the chance to see this one before it went up online, even though it was 750. He even haggled a little for us by asking the landlord if he could take it down to 700. As his previous tenants were still there—and very messy tenants they were—the landlord didn’t say anything decisive, though he did smile thoughtfully. The place wouldn’t look so bad cleaned up, and it had the part-living room, part-kitchen separate from the bedroom. We would have considered it if the price were lowered, but by the next day it was sold! The crazy part is Niall says the students will have their grades back next week and will then be looking for housing in droves. Talk about time pressure!

Niall took us back to Vincent and Rosaleen’s as he and Leonie prepared for their vacation off the coast of Spain. Dale and I talked about the place with the bay windows, and how we were unsure of the price. We told Rosaleen and Fionnuala about it, then went upstairs for a private conversation before I called the landlord and asked if it was still available. So there you have it; we saw the flat the day it was posted, called to snatch it up the very next evening, and were told we could move in the very next day. I hung up the phone with shaking fingers. We needed to bring a 700 euro deposit as well as the first month’s rent of 700 euros. This was steep for two people without jobs, and even though it’s pretty standard for landlords to ask for it, Dale looked like he might pass out. I, on the other hand, finally started to get excited. We were about to move into our first home together, in Ireland, and it would be my first home of my own altogether! Downstairs again, Rosaleen smiled as we told her the news, Niall coming in from outside at the same time.

“Oh, you called him?” he asked. Then his face broke into a big grin and he said, “Congratulations!”

It started to sink in in earnest.

The following day Niall collected us from Dalkey and drove us down our new street lined with tall red brick houses all packed together with narrow grass gardens in front. We had had to use our Visas to get 600 euros each out of an AIB ATM the day before because that was the maximum amount per day, so we stopped to get out the last 200 before arriving. The landlords, Robert and Catherine, welcomed us in. They made a note of our payment and I signed our contract, which has no minimum monthly stay. Bonus! I handed over a work reference letter from Roisin’s company, but the landlords didn’t seem to care about it. Niall helped us haul our luggage in, and then we were handed our keys—all eight of them. There is a key for the first door into the house, then two keys for the locks on our own door, and another key to unlock the back gate so we can get to the laundry shed. Multiply that by two for each of us. One of the door keys is an old narrow thing with a cube-like head, and so is the garden key. They have “ancient” written all over them. Too bad we can’t seem to get the ones for the flat to work properly.

Our first home

Niall drove us to Dunnes for our shopping, and Euro Star, which is similar to a dollar store. We bought groceries and some cleaning supplies. Fionnuala and Rosaleen had kindly put together a bag of items for our first night, which included dinner and toilet paper. On behalf of himself and Leonie, Niall bought us some tea towels and a drying rack for our clothes. We needed to pick up some utensils and a duvet cover, but for the most part the flat was fully furnished. When we got back, Niall left us to get down to our cleaning and unpacking! The first thing I did was throw baking soda all over the carpets, the seats, and the mattress, to be vacuumed up an hour later. We used vinegar cleaner to wipe down all handles, doorknobs, counters, and even some grimy walls. Dale tried to de-pinkify the shower, but it never did come clean. The next day I walked in with a, “What the-?!” because there was a slug on the floor. How the Hell it got there, we have no idea. I still don’t really trust that bathroom. We cleaned out every little spider from every little crack throughout the apartment, but the little daddy-long-legs keep coming back. Luckily they aren't really bothering anyone in the corners of the high ceilings. In the process of vacuuming the corners, I accidentally vacuumed a chunk of paint off the wall the size of my palm. Whoops. Insert bookshelf.

A double rainbow welcome for good luck!

For dinner we couldn’t figure out how to work the stove, so we used the microwave to cook noodles and chicken. It was weird. Dale called the next day to see what the problem was and it turns out we have to flip the big red switch on the wall beside it. The switch that was right in front of our faces. While he was at it, Dale asked how to get the hot water working. Apparently you have to flip a switch in the bedroom closet, and then wait ten minutes. It’s also a small tank, so showers are probably not going to be fun. The bedroom is fairly dark, so we made sure to clean the window. It didn’t make a big difference. We made the mistake of leaving it open that night, inviting in a big daddy-long-legs, as well as the noise of everyone slamming the garden gate as they made their way to work in the morning. The bed was incredibly springy in a poky way, so we flipped the mattress for the next night, then flipped it back the following one.

But the bay window out front is beautiful. The white curtains blew far into the flat as we aired the room out, and we don’t even need to turn on a light until nine o’clock in the evening. I’m happy with our choice so far. We went for a walk that first evening, and I picked some lavender sprigs as we got to know our neighbourhood. I placed them strategically around the apartment, and did the same thing the next day with our empty orange peels. Although we have no TV—we haven’t decided if we will borrow Niall’s and pay the 160 euro TV license fee—and no internet until Saturday, we had been smart enough to get a couple movies on the laptop, so we relaxed and watched Waterworld after our hard work. Our reward the following day was a few rounds of Dutch Blitz, a card game our friends back home are crazy about. We decided to keep our score running all year. I’m scared. I lose a lot.

We also visited the bank, where we were told a signed tenant’s agreement is not enough proof of address. It will probably be a month before we get a bill with my name on it. How we will get proof for Dale, I don't know. Thank goodness Visa only charges 2.5% per use in the meantime.

Dale and I spent Friday in the city centre visiting the USIT office to print off more resumes, and then went door to door along the streets near our new place to hand them out. Before we left Dublin the rain started to come down, so we waited it out under the protection of a large tree across the road from the statue of Molly Malone. One of the famous Viking Tour buses drove by right then, the horned-helmet clad occupants growling at the “Celts” along the side of the road. If the Vikings/tourists are lucky, the Celts/natives will growl right back. The open-topped yellow vehicles are most known for ending the tour by driving straight into the river—the vehicles are amphibious. As they rounded the corner where Dale and I stood, they all started chanting at us, “KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!” After a second of shock and hesitation, I stood on my toes to give Dale a quick peck. They all applauded and cheered their approval as the tour guide roared into his microphone, “THERE IS ROMANCE IN DUBLIN!” You can’t walk away from that without a little extra spring in your step.

Generally we applied for work separately while one of us waited outside. We thought it would look weird for us to ask for work together. Most places said they would hang on to our resumes. When I asked one lady if she was hiring, the response was, “I wish.” Another said, “I barely have a job myself.” After going into a hotel to tell the owners that an umbrella had been knocked right off of its table and was pierced on a fence, which brought us a hailstorm of gratitude, we found a hardware store that actually was hiring. It didn’t have any signs up yet, so we were lucky to find it, and both applied. It was awkward going in right after Dale had applied, but I didn’t want to pass up the chance. We scoped out some more places to apply, but it started to rain heavily and I was cold in only a dress, so we called it a day and returned home to watch a movie. On Saturday morning we had internet hooked up!

Country roads

Sunday we went to Sligo with Rosaleen, Vincent, and Rita, who is Ged’s aunt. Ged and Siobhan are English relatives, and our hosts for the day. They have an annual Bank Holiday weekend party in their summer house in the west. Siobhan is Rosaleen and my grandad's sister. It took two and a half hours to get to the party, but we passed an old castle on the side of the highway as we went. It was just casually sitting there, like, “Hey, can I get a lift?” Sligo itself was beautiful. We flew through country lanes which were only one car wide at 80km/h, and had to break suddenly a few times when other vehicles showed up going the opposite direction. But mostly the roads were quiet, overgrown, and full of butterflies.

On a walk in Sligo

Through the fields to the lake

Horses to the left of the lake

The house was very small and cute, with over 20 people attending the party. The view of the countryside around it was too tempting not to explore, so Dale and I took Ged and Siobhan’s feisty boxer for a short walk. We quickly learned that when you run into someone else walking the country road, they are probably going to the same party as you, and you are expected to stop and have a conversation with them. How friendly strangers were was amazing! After our short walk, we then accompanied Leo, another relative, through a farm where a horse and foal stood against the fence, and walked downhill through the tall grass to a lake. Leo told us about a second lake just out of eyesight called the “Vanishing Lake” which has all sorts of superstitions surrounding it because, occasionally, it will simply vanish overnight. The official story is something about a crack in the limestone below, which bursts and swallows the lake whole. Back at the house, we ate dinner outside with the fields behind us and the sound of someone tuning a fiddle inside. We met Malachy Senior, whose son we had dinner with back in Canada—we seem to have swapped places. Even the younger Malachy’s girlfriend went with him. Malachy the senior offered to host Dale and I in Mayo sometime, which is an offer too good to pass up. Ged and Siobhan offered to host us back in Stockport, England sometime too. All in all, I was glad to have made the trip out and sad that all we had for taking pictures were our Blackberrys. 

A beautiful day in Sligo

Ged and Siobhan's summer home