Our story continues….this post is from December – enjoy!
I woke up just the same as I have every day the last few weeks. No real thoughts, just actions. There hasn’t been a lot of time for thinking as we have never been so busy in our entire lives.
But this morning was a little different. Even though we couldn’t stop to digest what it symbolized, it was indeed our last day in the apartment. Likely the last night of having that homely, private, comfortable feeling for who knows how long.
After delivering the last bit of sold furniture to a neighbour (mattress) we ate breakfast at Marcia’s – the person who made sure we ate during this crazy time. Then it was shower, pack, and off to the airport.
I think everyone can agree the only truly enjoyable part of traveling is when you make it to where you are going, and sometimes even then it can take a few days to get back to feeling yourself. This trip was no exception. We arrived the requested 3 hours before our flight so that we could sit down and enjoy a meal before taking off. Then began one mishap after another.
Had no clue where to check in walking back and forth through the terminal. Bags were too heavy and wound up those people you always feel bad for re-arranging their belongings in the middle of the floor. One security line up led to another security line up. Couldn’t even get past it without asking for help. Finally make it to the other side after 2 hours only to find there was not a single place to get a warm meal, or even a decent cold one. So we stalked up on chips and junk food and finally were able to sit down at the gate. Tired and hungover.
2 hours to Boston and all I could think about was food. It’s like the last two weeks of forgetting to eat was catching up. We landed and one of the first things we saw on our very long journey from one terminal to the next was someone eating Burger King. Never knew how exciting it would be to see more junk food. But at least it was warm and more substantial than chips. It wasn’t as satisfying as we had hoped but at least we ate and were ready for the next leg of the trip.
No sleep and 5.5 hours later we land in Dublin. We had skipped a night with the time difference and landed at 8am. We waited and waited for our bags and they simply didn’t show up. Customer service said because of the transit stop the bags ‘could’ still be in Boston or they ‘could’ be in Toronto. So with just our backpacks we exited the airport feeling a bit defeated.
Eamon, Lorcan’s father, waited patiently at arrivals to greet us. I usually never have someone waiting for me so it’s always a nice treat! It was only a short drive to Celbridge where Lorcan’s family lives but long enough to pass out in the back seat. Which was fine since the expected overcast and fog meant we couldn’t see much anyway. At home we were greeted by Renie, Lorcan’s mother and fed a very delicious and much awaited for home cooked breakfast.
The rest of the day was a blur of eating (including the famous Sunday roast) and sleeping and waiting for a text from the airline for our luggage.