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

Umbrellas Up, Umbrellas Down

On Monday Vincent drove us in to Dublin to pick up some clothes from Niall’s because Dale had his interview at the O’Briens near Dalkey. He felt that it went pretty well, and they told him they’d let him know on Thursday if he had the job or not. Later, we walked to a place in Dalkey that I had applied for online. It was down a tiny alley and up a flight of stairs, so altogether not very easy to find. I went in to give them my CV in person, and found a tiny office with a person crammed in each corner. I didn’t know who to address myself to, so I awkwardly told them I was there to apply for a “Junior…Marketing…position?” Instead of the “Junior Copywriter position,” but no one corrected me. I pulled my “resume,” not my CV, out of an envelope, and the guy was obviously surprised because he thought I was going to give him the whole package. Then I stood there even more awkwardly until he said “Thank you, Nicole,” and I smiled, thanked him, and walked out. He had to look at my resume to find my name. What an idiot I am. Hopefully I’m the only one who came all the way out to Dalkey to hand in a resume. CV, damn it! The deadline for applications is August 2nd, so I’ll have to keep applying for jobs in the meantime. That night there were seven badgers in the backyard when Vincent gave them their nightly feeding.

The next day Fionnuala drove us in to Dublin. Dale had another interview on Harcourt Street for a sales job. The street was crammed with buildings all attached to each other, and I waited outside for at least two hours. I had planned on going to the park and reading, but I realized I had forgotten my phone at home so Dale couldn’t call me and ask where I was when he was done. Thank God I had the book Fionnuala lent me. I stood leaning against the little black fence to get as far off the sidewalk as I could. Eventually my feet got sore and I sat on the step. I wasn’t as in the way as I expected to be because lunchtime had ended by then. When Dale came out hours later he was surprised to see me. My first question was, “What time is it?” since I didn’t have my phone to rely on. That was the worst. He then explained that he didn’t really want the job. After all that! It was on commission only. But he didn’t turn it down in case no other options come up. It starts at the end of this week. We took the DART back to Dalkey and eventually Niall came to visit Sennan and pick us up.

One day we went into the Rathmines area to see if we could talk to a realtor. The lady who owned the apartment near Niall and Leonie had never returned our calls. We ended up going from building to building because most realtors just deal in selling houses, not renting or letting. One realtor was actually helpful and directed us to a lettings agency, but when we walked in she told us most of their stuff is up on daft.ie anyways. She gave us a card and another website to try, but we found nothing new. We continued to apply for jobs and eat take away all the time. My skin was really bad at the start of this trip, probably because of all the changing foods, but if it gets bad again I’m sure it will be from eating pizza constantly. Good thing we’ve been walking so much too. We also took the DART back to Bray because there was an apartment right beside the sea that we wanted to look at. If Dale got the job near Dalkey, and I got the job in Dalkey, it would be perfect. But commuting to Dublin if not would be a complete hassle. We had a taste of rush hour on the way in, which required us to stand for the entire 45 minutes and occasionally get off the DART in order to let others out. Otherwise, the place was cute. Two small room, it’s own washer, a little paved back garden, and right beside the ocean. Plenty of spiders to clean up, mind you. It was quirky that to get to it, you go through a little door between two connected buildings and enter a long and skinny open-roofed hallway that turns right where it becomes sheltered by a low ceiling. When you come out the other side you go through the high gate into the back garden on the right. We seriously considered taking the place despite the creepy entrance.

We ate in an Indian shop along the coast while we mulled it over, but some hoodlums turned up with their hands down the front of their pants. When we told Niall about this later he said it was the latest trend amongst wanna-be gangsters. I was disgusted. Not only did they make some racist comments, a group of them ran out of the shop in a hurry and threw something in the garbage bins near where Dale and I were sitting outside. The store owner came out and told them to get lost, reaching into the garbage and pulling out a can of Redbull they had stolen. One of the thieves came back seconds later apologizing, only to grab a second can none of us knew he had thrown out. The owner didn’t see what he had done, and Dale and I were left feeling stupid and helpless for not noticing in the first place. Two days later, just as we were thinking we better take the apartment in Bray because housing doesn’t seem to be working out, the listing was taken down. It was already sold, just like that. Then on Thursday we found out Dale didn’t get the O’Briens job he wanted. We were both pretty disappointed, but he decided to continue to apply at their other locations. But on the plus side, one night we got to see a fox walk across the road towards us in the middle of Dublin! It had something in its mouth and looked kind of scrappy. It was the first fox I’ve ever seen “in the wild.”

From a bakery looking over the Liffey River—as central as you can get

On Friday we had three viewings to attend. We started by taking the bus into the city centre. But for whatever reason Dale didn’t have the phone number for the realtor and by the time we found the place we were 15 minutes late and no one was there. After trying a few numbers, the realtor’s office said they’d call us back to arrange another viewing, and they never did. So we visited the USIT office and discovered that Dale’s PPS number had arrived. The friendly girl in the computer section was not very enthusiastic about the sales job Dale might have, which surprised us. She didn’t say anything about sticking with it until he found something else. She did give us a little more information about the Monday socials, so we may have to get to socializing soon. We took the bus back home, then walked to the Rathmines district where we had more viewings. The walk took about 40 minutes. Oh, and it stormed. The sun changed very suddenly to lightning and thunder that crashed directly over our heads and deafened us. I had a personal-sized umbrella in my little purse, but we ended up drenched anyways. My dress looked black instead of blue from shoulder to hem and clung to me uncomfortably. We were allowed to look at the next apartment, even soaked. It was better than we had been expecting, with high ceilings and two rooms instead of a studio. The landlord said he could get a double bed put in there. But he wanted rent paid every week, the shower would take 10 minutes to heat up, there was no washer and dryer so we’d have to use a “laundrette” and he wanted work references. When we told Niall and Leonie later, they said not to worry about that part! We had another viewing in the storm, but the realtor said they’d call to confirm the time and address, but they never did. We waited under a hidden archway called Louis Lane, and tried to call them as the storm switched on and off. Eventually we had to give up and went to get pizza. By the time we got home, we were just about dry again.

Soaked and hiding from the storm in "Louis Lane"

On Saturday we went to the cinema and saw the film “Now You See Me” with Niall and two of his friends. We agreed it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Then we went out for drinks while Leonie was at a Bachelorette party. First we went to a pub in town and talked about playing music and hockey. One of the guys had been to Canada and done some physical testing for research with players in the NHL. Both friends were musical, one kindly offering to lend us his guitar at some point, temporarily. We talked about Irish TV because there is a show called “The Hit” that Niall’s other friend had been on back when it first started out. Basically, contestants come in with songs they have written, they sit in a port-o-cabin type box and play the song for two celebrities who decide which song they want to buy. We had just watched it the night before, and Niall explained how much the producers have already tried to fancy it up with sparkles and such since his friend had been there. Then with one member down, we went to the Temple Bar area, which was full of lights, cobblestones, and bachelorette parties. We found a pub just on the outskirts and stood talking near the bar for hours. With another member gone to rescue his sick girlfriend from the Bachelorette, Niall, Dale, and I wandered down the road to grab a chip butty, which turned out to be fries in a wrap with too much sauce, and then got a cab home. Leonie and her friend Jess arrived shortly afterwards and we stayed up until 4:00 in the morning. As expected, the next day was fairly unproductive. And full of pizza.

A Day in Bray

This week was full of job searching and house hunting. Niall took Dale and I to the north side of Dublin (stereotypically the worse side of Dublin, full of knackers—the guys who used to collect old horses and turn them into glue). Our first sojourn seemed to prove this theory right. The studio apartment was tinier than we even anticipated and certainly more of a mess. I felt bad for the very blue-eyed realtor when someone else who was there for the viewing shouted dramatically, “You expect someone to live in this? I’m an Irish citizen!” and then stormed out. We checked out two apartments across the street as well, and even if we could have lived with the size, the area seemed too unsafe. We thought that might be what we got for looking at the lowest priced houses (500-600 euros).

We then went to the Seaview house, which was in Clontarf, also in the north. Niall called it a “port-a-cabin,” as it was a box crammed next to other boxes. It was recently refurbished, so it was cute. But small. We were glad to find the bedroom and living room were separate for once. But it really was like walking six paces to get to either end. It intrigued us because it was down the street from the ocean, it had it’s own high-fenced gravel garden, and was near all sorts of transport. However, we didn’t know what to expect from the heating bills, we would have to buy internet, and we didn’t know how well we could handle constantly being in each other’s hair, so we put it on a maybe list.

Later in the week, Dale and I walked to an apartment near Niall and Leonie’s house, in a good neighbourhood where we have already been getting accustomed to the bus system. The apartment was in a corner store, between two of the shops. We walked through the door between the shops and went down a narrow hallway next to a flight of stairs. Inside was surprisingly spacious, with a full-sized fridge—unusual—a separate bedroom, and a recently refurbished bathroom for 600 euros a month. Connected to the bedroom was a door to a grimy, triangular courtyard, which was attached to the back of the shops on one side, and an empty apartment on the other. It didn’t look like it could be used for anything except smoking, which neither of us do. Leonie later suggested we could hang our clothes to dry out there since the shops don’t actually have access to it, and the other apartment may be empty for a while yet. Again, we would need to get internet set up, and the lady didn’t actually know what the heating bills were like yet, but we were interested. She even said it was going to be painted still, so it should look even better than when we saw it. Hopefully everything will be done this week and we can look again, and maybe even move in! It was amusing to us, given my back problems, that the shop right next door is some kind of massage/pain relief office.

Looking for Work

Dale and I took the bus into town decked out in our applying-for-jobs gear. It was hot outside, so I felt especially sorry for him in a full-sleeved button-up shirt and chunky black dress shoes. He dropped off his resume—I mean CV. I can’t stop doing that—in several stores we found along the way, but I hadn’t printed any of mine off yet, so I was there for moral support only. We went to the PPS office and spent far too long waiting for Dale to get his PPS number. The PPS number is needed for work, though they usually give you one when you start a job. I wasn’t able to get mine yet because we don’t have proof of address, which SWAP was able to provide Dale. The PPS number will him to set up a bank account, and may be helpful for getting an apartment. In the meantime, I’m stuck until we have a home or I have a job.

We generally catch the bus at Trinity University, which I have an eye for and Dale does not. But both of our senses of direction are improving, and we’re getting used to the transport system. You have to stick your arm out to make sure the driver will stop, and when you get on you say which stop you want, which it doesn’t say anywhere. So not only do you have to know it, you then have to keep your eye out for it and press a button to stop there. This week Dale made us sit on the top deck, which was covered unlike the tour bus in London. It turns out it is boiling hot up there. Dale also dropped off resumes in shops around Niall and Leonie’s neighbourhood. There was an O’Brien’s Wines, which he had applied online for in Canada, again in Ireland, and now in the store in person. He said the manager was very friendly and gave him the email for the HR person. Dale used the address, and now has an interview set up for Monday! They were happy to see that he did a WSET course last year, so it seems promising. Eventually we visited the USIT office again, this time to print off some resumes for myself. No one complained that I wasn’t a SWAP customer, and the girl who works in the computer area has been nothing but friendly, helpful, and encouraging.

Bray

We have been with Niall and Leonie for a week, which was the amount of  time they had originally offered. This means we need to get out of their house! We do not want to take advantage of them, or overstay our welcome. Luckily, Rosaleen offered to have us for the weekend, so Dale and I packed our backpacks and headed back for a cherry, “Welcome home!” from Vincent. We spent most of that Friday evening drinking beer or wine on the front step and chatting to Fionnuala as she did her gardening. On Saturday Dale and I took the train to Bray, which is putting on a summer festival.

The Sea-walk

We walked along the pier towards another cliff-front sea-walk, observing the carnival rides that were set up along the way and watching a helicopter land beside us on the hill. The sea-walk was tiring, with the hill rising up steeply to our right, and dropping off to the ocean on our left. The hike went on for at least six kilometres. We ventured to the edge of the cliff at one point, and on the way there I slipped and sent my bare foot straight into a spiky prickle bush. When we reached the end, we walked straight into the nearest pub. It was called the Beach House, and the staff were not very friendly. It got worse when I dropped a bottle of cider all over the floor… But at least it was cool inside, and the ciders were refreshing.

An old Carriage Stop

Thistles

Eventually we got ice-cream cones and took the DART back to Bray. We laughed our heads off on a carnival ride that spins as well as swings way up into the air like a palindrome. Then we walked barefoot along the ocean, sat in the sand as the sun set, and later wandered around town looking for a freaking hot drink because we hadn’t been planning on staying into the chilly evening. There was a gazebo where bands were playing loudly, so we listened to the music from the beach while sipping the long-awaited hot chocolate.

Taking a Peek Over the Edge

Having a Break at the Cliff's edge

The following day we walked up to Sorento Hill again and joined a small crowd of people who were trying to watch the air show across the bay in Bray. Fionnuala joined us with her dog Biff, until eventually the grey sky turned sunny again and I was relieved to get out of it’s direct gaze. The rest of the day was spent relaxing at home with a book.

A week in Ireland

A view of Dun Laoghaire

Our gentle hike up Killiney Hill wasn’t as gentle as we expected, but it was beautiful. Some of the area was wooded with tall smooth trunks that ended far above our heads in leafy branches. It was different from the ferns and pines that are green from ground to sky at home. When we broke out of the forest area it was to find grassy hills and stone walls. We paused to watch rock climbers making their way up the cliff faces, and enjoyed the view of Dun Laoghaire as the sun began to set. We took different footpaths through the heather until we reached a peak where there was a pointed Obelisk and a block-like pyramid. Both were follies built in 1741 as make-work projects. The panoramic views we enjoyed from the summit were well-worth staying for until the walk back was blurry and dim. Then we were tempted by a children’s park where apparently teeter-totters, zip-lines, and merry-go-rounds are not yet banned. And I’m telling you, I’d risk my kids getting injured for the fun of those playgrounds!

Hello Miss Molly!

Oliver St. John Gogarty's Pub

On Tuesday Fionnuala drove us into Dublin so that Dale could go to the USIT office for his SWAP orientation. He ended up being the only one attending, which meant he received one-on-one attention, and personalised advice. In the meantime, I met up with Niall, who gave me a one-on-one walking tour of Dublin. I couldn’t have had a better guide. We wandered through Trinity College, the Temple Bar area, and eyed the bullet holes in the post office and statue of Daniel O’Connell that the British left when trying to take back Ireland from the rebels. When Dale finished up, Niall took us to a few cheap shopping centres and picked up Dale’s interview clothes and even a new watch, which we’ve been laughing at ever since because we didn’t realize it would glow like a 12-year-old’s. The day was boiling hot, which made for a perfect evening out. Niall and his girlfriend, Leonie (Lay-oh-nee), took us to a pub near Temple Bar to watch some Irish dancing and listen to some “fiddly music.” There were few people upstairs with us, but plenty of clapping and energy. We spent the rest of the night downstairs, which was much more crowded, and watched the musician drain an entire Guinness in front of us. Then another. And after a couple more songs, another. All four of us were impressed. On the cab-ride home I offered a “tenner” to help pay for it, and laughed about how I jumped right in there with the lingo. I honestly think it will be too easy to pick up an accent, or at least phrases, and it scares both Dale and I a little! We stayed the night with Niall and Leonie, who don’t live far from the city centre.

Glendalough ruins in the distance

The tower at Glendalough

Wednesday included an afternoon trip to Glendalough, County Wicklow. Glendalough means “Valley of Two Lakes.” On the drive, Niall pointed out smoke up on the hill where we walked the day before. He said the brush catches fire regularly when it's so hot out. We stopped for lunch at a little café, which had high prices and only tolerable food. We wandered through the ruins of a church, graveyard, and tower where the door was 12 feet up the wall to protect the monks from invaders. We paddled in the lake, the dirt of which shimmered silver. Afterwards, they dropped us off for a last night in Dalkey before we transferred our home base to their house. The next day we spent indoors despite the weather and applied online for jobs. Finally, we went for another walk before Niall drove us back to Dublin. We found a smooth rock large enough for both of us among the bushes and sunbathed while watching the water below us. In the distance, the ocean met the sky so smoothly that the sailboats looked like they could take off into the air. Just as we were about to leave, a tiny black cat popped out of the greenery and joined us in the sun, as friendly as could be.

The church ruins

We woke up early to catch a bus into the centre of Dublin alone, and waited the entire morning for Dale to get his VISA stamped at the Garda National Bureau. It was the longest process imaginable. It was lunchtime when we finally walked out 300 euros poorer. Much of the rest of the day was spent in the USIT office working on Dale’s resume. I tried not to be too antsy that we were stuck inside again, but it was difficult when Dublin and the could-go-anytime-sun were right outside. We called a few people to make appointments to look at houses. Niall and Leonie helpfully took us to them, but one was sold by the time we arrived, and the other turned out to be a room. Nice big window, sure, but seriously all bed. I could have stayed home if I was looking for that. And for two people, for an entire year? I don’t think so. It was a shame that it was in such a great area. There is one other little place that I like, though we have our eyes on a few places.

An example of burnt bushes, at Howth

A view of the cliffs

Saturday saw us hiking with Niall and Leonie in Howth. The cliffs overlooking the ocean were exactly what I hoped to see from Ireland, and it was almost a shock to actually be standing on them rather than looking at a picture. Expecting a walk, Dale didn’t bring his camera, and I wore sandals that fell apart. Luckily, Leonie let us use her phone. The blues aren’t rich enough, and the greens aren’t dark enough, but I’m very happy to have captured some of the scenery. The fact that Niall and Leonie came along with us on all our sightseeing is a testament to what great hosts they’re been. We paid for dinner in an America-style diner in an attempt to thank them.

Niall and Leonie with "the Eye of Ireland" behind them

Roisin’s birthday was Sunday, so Leonie and I went to the shops near her house and picked up flowers, birthday cards, and a thank you for Rosaleen and Vincent for letting us stay with them in Dalkey. We talked about our very old cars, and how hers was actually reliable. But when Dale and I arrived back at the Dalkey house with Niall, Leonie called to say her car was smoking. That was bad timing. The barbeque was very nice, and had us wearing sunglasses at the same time as switching from garden to garden to avoid the breeze. It was comfortable to sit and talk with the Callaghan’s. It really felt like we were family, and even more so like we had been in Ireland for more than a week.

Dale and I on the cliffs