“Remember, whatever the
price...I'll beat it! I like living!”
I am quite surprised because all the signs are in Gaelic and in English.
The night before the morning I went to Mullingar, which means last night, I couldn’t sleep. I had to get up at 4.25am and I don’t really thing I ever fell asleep properly. And when I can’t sleep my mind always begins to think and this time the question is, “How big are the spiders in Ireland?” Since it is supposed to be greener and wetter wouldn’t the spiders be bigger then or is that my logic way of thinking? Luckily I haven’t found a spider yet so it is still unknown to me.
If only you could walk on clouds.
I still have loads of thoughts about Ireland. Thoughts people put into ‘me noggin’ because they keep stating something. Since I’ve had nothing to compare to I could only believe that they spoke the truth. What are people really saying about Ireland and the Irish? Let me tell you what I’ve heard apart from the rain, which I can only confirm because the ground is wet here. They say that the Irish are really nice people and they say that Irish people have red hair.
I’ve been quite curious about the nice-part, because it’s something my grandfather has told me, but it is a hundred years since he was last in Ireland (okay, maybe not a hundred). Time changes people, or so you would think. But I am gobsmacked. These people are the nicest I have ever met. People on the street say hello to you. They ask about how you are, but I don’t think it’s really a question that they want the answer to I think it’s just something they say. It’s not because they wanna start a conversation it’s just pure sweetness. I met a taxi chauffeur today who wasn’t like any other driver I’ve ever met. Since I couldn’t get hold on the woman I’m renting my room from I decided to just go there. I didn’t really wanna walk around with two suitcases that I could hardly manage. The address I have is a bit weird and the driver didn’t really know which house it was or where in Walshestown it was. So instead of just taking me to Walshestown he began calling his co-workers to ask them if they knew where it was. He asked about the name of the woman and asked his co-workers if they knew a woman by that name in Walshestown. He ended up driving to a gas station close to Walshestown to ask if they knew anything and we got a clue. I knew what the house looked like and he had an idea where it was. So we FOUND IT! He carried my suitcases all the way to the door and even shook my hand saying that it was nice to meet me and that he hoped I’d have a good time in Ireland. The most surprising of it all was IT WAS ONLY 8 EUROS! In Denmark the taximeter starts around 12 Euros. From the airport to the bus to the taxi to the woman I’m rented a room off everyone has been so nice to me. (I’m gonna call the woman J, because maybe she doesn’t wanna be mentioned in this blog) J drew me a nice map of how I get into town and how I find different things in there. She told me where I can maybe find a second hand bike (she even said I could use her bike, but I need my own). She had bought some biscuits for me, given me some tea, coffee and milk just so I had a little something. If that isn’t nice then I don’t know what nice is! So far I only have nice things to say about the Irish because they seem so FUCKING nice.
As for the redheads. I didn’t really believe it, but I do now. There are a lot of red heads in Ireland.
This is where I live. Behind the red door!
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