Last weekend I had a thoroughly enchanting time visiting Ireland and stepping into a medieval fantasy full of magic, myth, and mystery men. After flying into Dublin, I took a bus down to Limerick to visit my very good friend of 32 years, for what we so aptly dubbed the "I've known you for 32 years weekend abroad!" She is currently studying dance at the University of Limerick while I am studying French in Paris, so the obvious conclusions are that a) I refer to her as the "Lady of the Dance"? and b) that we be frequent visitors to each other's lands and engage in non-stop ridiculousness...
We began our antics by going out Friday night on campus with some of her roommates. Before leaving the apartment, we had some dinner and wine, making sure to take pictures involving silly looks and me lying on the floor... A party weekend just isn't a party weekend without me lying on the floor at some point... As I continued to discover throughout our adventures, my dear friend and I were continually trading places via our past stereotypical behaviours. In other words, she was taking the bitch-role and I was finding everything hilarious. In a room full of what we could only assume were college students in their late teens and early twenties, it was a moment of real hilarity to feel a decade older than almost everyone there. College parties could be annoying even when I was in college, debauchery only enjoyed by those truly in the moment, determined to conquer Dionysus himself with endless libations. Happily, as a visitor for the weekend, I was viewing it all through intensely rose-colored glasses, just happy to be frolicking in the land of leprechauns...
Saturday was epic in a throughly unusual way... for me, at least... We spent most of the afternoon riding bikes down mystical paths sprinkled with ruins of days gone past, romping through the streets of Limerick, on the opposite side of the street of course, and most importantly... not dying amidst torrential downpours of Irish rain... We rambled through a market filled with decadent sweets, darling toys made of local sheep's wool, and all manor of vintage clothing. By the time we got back home we were exhausted, soaked through, but completely invigorated by the fresh air and idyllic beauty of the Emerald Isle. Thus began the next day and a half of fairy tale enchantment...
In the evening we went out to a bar in the center of Limerick and almost immediately found ourselves well-situated for endless shenanigans. We first ran into an older gentleman who had helped us to find a place to lock our bikes earlier that day. I felt like a real Limerick townie running into the locals! An old flirt, he and the charming bartender continually helped us fend off our next intrepid pursuer... A young, incredibly intoxicated man who couldn't help but repeatedly stick his big ole foot in his big ole mouth. We assumed his ultimate intention was to hit on us, but all he could truly manage were unintentional insults. He did, however, provide a great opening act for my Irish Prince of Thieves to take the stage...
Princes, knights, and often muses in general rarely look the way that you imagine: awkard and blunt rather than chivalrous and debonair. But the best part about such wraiths is their ability to see right through you, enveloping your senses in fictional tapestries of hope. I spent the evening frolicking from bar to bar with the oldest and newest friends I have, one acting the nurse to my Shakespearean heroine and the other costumed as the role of exciting new lover.
To top it all off, the next day we were escorted to an Irish castle by this swarthy rogue. Our own native tourguide to Bunratty Castle where we scaled the cannons, ramparts, treacherous stairwells and historic cottages from days gone past. Seated on the queen's thrown with my lady in waiting and knight of the round table, I freely wondered why it is that I don't currently live in a castle on the Irish moors. That evening, my amazing friend rallied for a final night out, though she had early classes the next morning... I was ultimately beckoned once more by the cunning wiles of my Prince of Thieves, and let's just say that knights do not take orders behind closed doors ; )
But aside from magical fairy tales, kindred spirit ventures, and casual seduction, my visit to Ireland was on par with a true soul-regeneration... A cleansing bath in the bubbles of inspirational melody. I was reminded of epic legends dancing upon the stones of centuries past. I imbibed the wisdom of an ancient culture embedded in mystery and lore. From the black rooks who mate for life to the rooster taking his mistress hens in broad daylight, I was continually made to breathe in the layers of love and lust necessary to the happiness of all. Accompanied by a friend who has seen me through all of the growing phases of my life, I felt comfortable and at home. Inspired by the knightly leprechaun pointing out paths to the pot of gold, I became re-inspired to pursue the life and love of my dreams.
The people we meet on our journeys are the best and most important souvenirs of all. Just like the stamps on our passport, they leave their glowing mark of memory. Some remain constant, others ever-fleeting, and we all continue to fly...
Next up! College/NYC bestie visits, immediately followed by various parental units, and hopefully additional pictures of Ireland!!!
we definitely have a sibling picture at those same cannons!
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