Ch. 4 Continued

A Change in the Winds

Stranded in Dublin (part 2 of 2)

It’s Monday now.  The sun’s up and shining; a rare sight in Ireland.  Everybody seems so happy, and excited as they get ready to go walk the poetically decorated streets of Dublin.  Except for me.  I am, yet again, hung-over and feeling more miserable than ever as I hopelessly think to myself, “This isn’t supposed to be happening!  I was supposed to get my visa today; they were supposed to have it ready by now.  I’m not even supposed to be here in the first place!” 

My hopes of moving on with my journey had been shattered when I reached the British embassy that morning with the illusion of flying onto London the very next day, but instead I was told that the paperwork might take up to fifteen more days.  That news destroyed what little hopes I had left, and I was now developing serious concerns for my well-being; I was already halfway crazy and I didn’t know how much more of Dublin my body would be able to take.  Every day that passed seemed to be exactly the same; I was stuck.  The situation seemed to be a downward spiral towards my perdition.

It all changed that day thou.  I was sitting around complaining about how depressing Dublin was to Bridget and a Canadian writer lady (that was also stranded in the hostel) when it happened.  Bridget had had enough of my nagging when the writer lady said something that was difficult to digest but penetrated my thoughts nonetheless:

“I had a friend that was in a similar situation to yours one time.  Have you ever considered that maybe it’s not that Dublin’s a depressing city but that maybe you’re a bit depressed right now and that’s why it all seems so shitty?”

My ego tried to convince me of her misjudgment but, deep down inside, I knew she was right.  I was so perplexed that I didn’t even leave the hostel that day; until night came, that is. 

There were a lot of new people at the hostel that night.  I started talking to a group of Brazilian girls that were drinking in the lobby.  I was doing pretty well for myself but things weren’t going to be that easy.  There was a German dude with us; he was really nice but a tad socially awkward, to say the least.  I met him the day before and he’d stuck to me like a piece of gum at the bottom of my shoe.  This guy was like a fucking robot; he had no social spark whatsoever and kept ruining the momentum for me by saying some insipid comment that would turn the joy of the moment into a dead and awkward silence.

I was struggling to keep the girls entertained without having this guy ruin it when Randy appeared accompanied by two girls and saved the day.  Randy always saved the day, that guy was all about friendship and having a good time.  The girls that showed up with him were Bosnian sisters that lived in Sweden and the youngest one was nothing short of spectacular.  She had a very pretty face with really short hair (“feminist, obviously”, I thought to myself), a sparkling smile, and a personality that would enchant an entire audience.  Her name was Alina.  The Brazilian girls quickly faded in the background of her presence.

We went out on town, first to a comedy show at a pub called Shebeen Chick.  Randy and I already knew comedian Danny O Brien from the night before (a very talented chap!) and we got to meet another comedian called Trevor Browne that was absolutely brilliant.  The show was wild that night!  After the show we stuck around talking about life and people in general.  Both Randy and Alina seemed a bit skeptic about the future of the world so I felt the impulse to go on a roll about what I thought of “bad” people and why they do bad things:

“I firmly believe that nobody is a bad person because they choose to be, but rather find themselves playing the role of the bad guy out of emotional ignorance…  Sometimes people are just unaware of what they are feeling and get driven by a negative emotion into doing something they didn’t really mean to and then the ego comes and tricks us into justifying our wrongful behavior…” and other stuff like that as I tried to convince Randy and Alina that there was still hope for mankind.  I understood where they were coming from; it’s easy to loose faith in people when someone dear lets us down.  The chat was very spontaneous but apparently they loved what I said.  Alina told me she thought I was an inspirational person; curiously enough, I thought the exact same thing about them.

We later went to another club, yet again, refusing to let the night come to an end. I must confess that I was really attracted to Alina but my friend Randy beat me to her; a bit discouraging but I still felt happy for them. 

The next day was not that bad considering the fact that I’d been drinking every day for almost three weeks, and drinking heavily for past five days.

After breakfast I just sat down in the lobby to write some stuff on my notebook.  It wasn’t long before I stopped to look around and saw one the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen and, “what!?”  She was staring right at me!  I got nervous as I thought to myself “There is no way on earth I’ll ever have a chance with her,” but I still decided to go talk to her.  

My dark mood was setting a horrible tone to my voice: I was bombing it!  Still, she was quite lovely to talk to.  Her name was Gaia; she was a young French actress that was traveling with a group of friends.  I wanted to rip my heart out of my chest and hand it to her right then and there but my attitude was all wrong and I was probably getting that condition, more commonly seen in adolescents, where they fall in love with any beautiful girl they meet for lack of self appreciation.  She did inspire me thou…

I walked away to put some thought into my situation and decided, “Fuck it! I’m done with being miserable!  Tonight I’m going to have fun and tomorrow I’ll go get my passport and skip London.”  I had had enough of waiting around for things to get better. 

Come nightfall I was more relaxed and didn’t really feel the impulse to drink right away.  I met up with a couple of cool Israeli girls with whom I’d had casual conversations over the past three days.  They invited me to have supper with them and we proceeded to meet up with everyone else in the lobby for some casual drinks.  It was weird thou, I wasn’t all-manic like the other nights and I was thoroughly enjoying the conversation with one of the Israeli girls; we’ll call her Rachel.  She was a pretty girl but not the type I’m usually attracted to; her charisma, however, was legendary. 

We went out to a club, danced, drank some beers, talked some more, and all of the sudden I realized something: “Wholly shit, this girl is into me!”  In that moment, I realized I had a real connection with her; all else seemed to disappear in the insignificant blur of the background noise.  I forgot about my problems, my worries, my shitty attitude, and realized I was having genuine fun for the first time in a while.  So, without putting further thought into it, I flipped my cap backwards and drove my lips into hers, caressing her in my arms as my heartbeat rose suddenly.  I could feel that emotional connection that brings two human beings onto a different level of communication.  I felt alive for the first time in many years.

“Ok.  Lets get out of here!” she said to me smiling with a suggestive tone of voice.  Can you say “Fuck yeah!”?  The excitement I felt was overwhelming, it felt as if I’d never had sex before!

We had a slight problem thou; her room had two other people in it and I was staying at the cheaper bunk-room with seventeen other roommates.  We looked around for alleys and parks but there was nothing I could see as a feasible option to “get it on” with her.  We finally ended up at the hostel where I noticed the door to the food dispenser was open.  I looked at Rachel and she nodded back at me approvingly, so we slid into the tiny room beside the reception and let ourselves turn into wild beasts for the spur of the moment.

As soon as we finished, however, the receptionist opened the door furiously and complained about our behavior with a nagging tone stating that there were “like a thousand better places to do it in”.  Dude had a solid point (Rachel had been a bit loud considering the situation) but whatever, I didn’t give a shit and I could tell that Rachel cared even less as she hid behind me, silently laughing against my back.  “It’s crazy how Europe makes you become such a slut,” she said, as we got dressed.  I wasn’t judging; that shit was awesome!  And it wasn’t the usual meaningless one-night-stand that leaves an empty whole that can only be filled with more craziness; I felt that I genuinely connected with her!

The next day, I woke up with a better mood and headed straight to the British embassy to retrieve my passport.  They apologized for not being able help me with my visa but it was all right; “some things are just not meant to be,” I thought.  When I got to the hostel I sat on the computer and was ready to purchase a ticket to Oslo when it occurred to me to check the passport and… there it was!  My own UK tourist visa. 

I was so confused that I sat there staring at it like a vegetable, trying to figure it out.  Still skeptical, I checked my e-mail and… there it was again!  The message of approval had arrived at my inbox fifteen minutes ago!  There are no words with which I could possibly describe the happiness I felt.  On that day, I finally stuck to my word; I didn’t drink a single beer.  Thou I also got a mad headache, was unable to fall asleep until about 4am, and woke up about two hours later, drenched on my own sweat.  A bit of withdrawal, I guess, was in order after all the drinking I had done. 

I had surpassed the first challenge of my adventure and learned many valuable lessons on this “eternally short” stay at the Ashfield House.  It’s curious that all I wanted throughout my stay was to leave and now that I was finally leaving I felt sad as I realized that the best part of my journey (on a social level) was over.  I couldn’t hold the tears from sliding down my cheeks as I boarded the bus to the airport while thinking of all the wonderful people I’d met and all I’d lived in such a short time.  It could have just been a result of the withdrawal, and/or the confusion form the emotional mess I was in.  The whole thing was like a flashback of my adolescence.  It didn’t matter anyways; I was now going to London and my adventure was just beginning!