G’s McTravels: Dublin

‘May you never forget what’s worth remembering nor ever remember what is best forgotten’ was the first Irish quote I saw once I arrived on Dublin’s airport. It reminded me of what I left back in Edinburgh. All of the adventures shared in this blog and lots of experiences left untold have resulted to friendships I will never forget and a love I never dreamed of receiving. At my back there were these memories and at my front are the adventures I was yet to undergo. ‘This is the time of my life, I can’t wait to start’ I thought, not knowing I already started on this new chapter the moment I walked out of the aeroplane and walked on O’Connell Street (Dublin’s City Centre).

After checking in at Abbey Court hostel (because I still hadn’t found a room) I walked through the streets in order to find the library I saw a few years ago.  Yet again I got horribly lost again due to the fact that Google maps didn’t work again. It became dark and I decided to just walk into a bar which looked interesting. That’s when I saw ‘Late Rock Bar’ in neon lights in front of me. ‘Yes, this is my kind of bar’ I thought not knowing what kind of rabbit hole I went in. Immediately I pulled the door and went in. The sound of surf rock music welcomed my ears into a different side of Dublin. The alternative side. I felt home, even though many stared at me because of my lack of tattoos and certain kind of clothing. It felt like they were seeing my innocent face rather than my rock and roll soul. I didn’t care about that. The only thing I wanted is to see what a local pub truly looks like.

A lot of people were banging their heads on the music, others were dancing as if they were surfing the waves on the dance floor in front of the stage. The band member had masks of American presidents, like robbers you see in movies. My heart and soul were excited. A whole new world for me to observe, analyse and participate in. While enjoying the music and trying to head bang myself (which ended up with me being dizzy rather than look cool) I saw a lot of people with their drinks walk into another door which I assumed to be the bathroom. My curiosity leads me to walk the same back door to see where all the people went to. It was a whole different room, with people playing pool and smoking. It felt like an old casual place where the bar was in the shape of a minivan and the place was filled with people from different diversities. I took a seat and watched a game of pool. For one hour I was silently falling in love with pool. ‘You don’t come here often, do you?’ A man said who was sitting next to me. ‘No this is my first time actually’.  He started talking about the music and that he didn’t enjoy metal as much. We talked about different kinds of music until he said: ‘My friends and I are going to a Latin dance later on, do you want to join us?’ My heart started dancing already by the word ‘Latin’ but first I wanted to see his friends. I needed to be less innocent and more conscious of me being alone in an unknown city. He introduced me to a Brazilian girl called Aileen who was kind enough to invite me to join the group as well. I can’t come I said while blood ran through my cheeks, ‘Look at my shoes’ and I pointed at my hiking shoes that made me look like I was a gardener or mountain climber that just came back from work. ‘Don’t care about your shoes, if your smile and moves are good!’ she answered. She had a point that taught me a lesson I still believe to this day. Clothes should have less to no meaning, because what I wear is my smile, is my body language and aura. It is not the cotton I wrap myself around. I forgot about that in the years I stuck to my daily routine, Aileen made me realise it again. ‘So why not?’  I asked myself and I went along with them. They taught me various Latin dances. The girls were very kind and made me feel at home. ‘You’re not Dutch! You’re Brazilian, look how you move!’ they said, trying to make me less shy.  The guys were protective and didn’t let anyone come too close to grabbing things that they don’t have the right to touch. The people were a mixture of Brazilians, Irish, Spanish and many more. I wish the presidents would see a night like this. A peaceful night wherein everyone dances to their heart’s content, maybe then we would dance more rather than fighting with each other for more resources we don’t need’. Happiness came over me the next morning when I woke up with a smile. My love for adventure only grew the moment I read a quote that day somewhere along a shop saying: ‘May the luck of the Irish lead to the happiest heights and the highway you travel be lined with green lights’. I hope it will.

How this lead me to cliffs and clovers can be read on the next blog of G’s McTravels.

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