My flight into New York City was late. So late, that by the time I exited the aircraft, I was told I would literally need to run to the next gate to get to Ireland. So I strapped on my backpack, weighed down with a laptop, a Canon 40d, a Nikon, several books, Felix Bobblinghead and everything else I couldn’t live without, and ran a half marathon across JFK. (Thank God for my fire department training – I was used to the weight!) I arrived at gate A6 in time to hear, “Paging Jolene Hanson. Last call for flight 164 to Dublin.”
“I’m here!” I screamed, waiving my hands. The male flight attendant grabbed one of them and started running with me all the way to the next aircraft, which I entered sweating and out of breath. I apologized to the rotund Irish man I was sharing space with for my profuse sweating. He didn’t seem to mind.
I was doubtful that my checked bag would make it on the flight, but indeed it did. The luck of the Irish was on my side.
After a nap, I spent my first day wandering the streets of Dublin, trying to find all of the main attractions I want to visit tomorrow. I found the buskers and street musicians the most inspiring today, so here you go!
From the side of the Temple Bar
Cool vanishing point in the Temple Bar area
Today ended with a Guiness at pub listening to live Irish music sitting next to three travelers from Spain and a woman from Chile. It may have been a very long day, but it was a good one!