I step up
into the bus,
pay my fare,
and take an empty seat
near the center
of the bus.
I look out the window
and give a final wave
to Bill and May
as the bus drives off.
What wonderful people.
Lord, please bless them
a thousand-fold
for their love
and generosity.
This is truly
the Ireland
that I was looking for.
In a small town
like this one,
it's easy to forget
that there's a world
beyond these streets.
It's easy to forget
about the things
I've left behind.
Charlestown
may not be
the most beautiful
spot that I've visited
here in Ireland,
but, so far,
it has been my favorite.
-------
At last, the scenery
begins to change.
The past three hours
have been no more
than highways and fields,
with only the occasional
lake or town
to add to the monotony.
I see the edges
of Dublin now
through the front
of the bus.
As we follow the streets
into the city,
I begin to spot places
that I recognize
from pictures.
It's an unusual feeling
to be driving
beside this river
I've seen photographed
from so many different
spots and angles.
Why is it
that I always
feel this way
when I come into contact
with a place
I've seen before in pictures?
I wonder if others
also experience
this phenomenon?
It's funny how the media
affects us.
Seeing places on film
or in pictures
creates in our minds
a subconscious sense
that these places are more
than any average place.
It's as if
we come to perceive
these places as ideals.
Thus, the illusory
and momentary
feeling of achievement
and fulfillment
when we experience
these places
for ourselves.
Is it a trick
of the media?
Or, is it something
deeper still?
Perhaps it is something
placed within us
by God Himself.
Perhaps these experiences
are meant to be
foreshadowings and hints
of the ultimate fulfillment
when we finally
experience that place
that we can only
dimly picture
in thoughts and imaginings
here in this life.
This would explain
that feeling of disappointment
that inevitably follows
these experiences here.
Once we reach
these supposed ideals,
we find
that they are not
what our souls
were longing for,
so we scurry off
after others,
hoping for that fulfillment,
but deep down knowing
that we will never
find it here.
Perhaps this
is one of God's ways
of dangling the carrot
in front of the noses
of us stupid
and stubborn mules.
-------
I wander around
this huge bus station,
wondering what I should do.
Dublin is too big.
I know that large cities
have a way
of intensifying
one's loneliness.
Feeling alone
while surrounded
by so many people
will only make me feel
more depressed
over the fact
that I have no one
to share
these experiences with.
Dublin would be more fun
with someone.
Besides, the thought
of trying to find
my way around
this huge city
with this huge backpack
doesn't sound
very appealing.
I take out my map
and look ahead.
The next stop
I want to head towards
is Glendalough.
I look up
at the bus schedule,
then back at the map.
Wicklow
is as close
as I'll get today.
So be it.
-------
That girl across the aisle
obviously needs a hat
to keep the sun
out of her eyes;
she's making such a show.
Perhaps I should offer
to lend her mine.
No.
Too young.
I don't know
the proper
social boundaries
for this country.
I don't want to seem
like I'm flirting
with a high school girl.
That's asking for trouble.
Best to mind
my own business.
As the bus stops
to let more
school children off,
I scan a road sign
to discover
that we are
at the outskirts
of Wicklow.
Since I'm not sure
how many stops
there will be
in town,
I make ready
to exit at any moment.
This is the one drawback
of the bus system
in Ireland:
they don't advertise
the stops,
rather, they expect
you to know
where you are
and where you are going.
The natives
seem to know
quite well.
I start to ask the lady
seated in front of me,
but change my mind.
I don't want to sound
too much like
a tourist.
I get a good look
over Wicklow
as the bus drives
down the hill
into town.
It reminds me
a bit of the pictures
I've seen of San Francisco:
tall, skinny houses
lining hilly streets.
The bus stops.
Not wanting to risk
the possibility
that there may be
no more stops in town,
I exit and look around
to get my bearings.
What luck,
there's a B and B
across the street.
I could probably
find a hostel
if I really wanted to,
but I'm too lazy
right now.