Little did I know how expensive it would be to live in Dublin at the height of the Celtic Tiger. But I really didn't have a choice; the only job I could get in Ireland was in Dublin.
Texas is a beautiful place, but I couldn't take working in the heat much longer. If I was going to get a job working outside, it had to be in different circumstances. I was starting to get on in age by this time, and just couldn't work 12 hours in heat like I used to. Add in the fact I made very little money as evidenced by the meager 4500 I raised from savings and selling my belongings, and I had incentive to try something new. I did like my old boss, so thanked him honestly for allowing me to work for him. He surprised me with a $500 bonus and wished me luck. I doubt I will ever again work for such a good man. I look back on those days fondly when I forget how many pain killers I had to pop to simply make it through the day.
I spent all night on the red-eye flight speaking to some folks whom had never been to Ireland. I had been there once before, so had some insight, and rambled on endlessly due to the excitement of my journey. The drawback was I had almost no sleep when I landed at Dublin and appeared before an immigration official. I told her I had shown up in Ireland for a job. This would have been fine had I already been documented. But in my sleepy haze, I had forgotten that the Dept. of Enterprise hadn't yet issued my permit - it usually took 3-6 weeks. I had intended to enjoy a short holiday/vacation before starting work. This is all fine and dandy...until you tell that story to immigration because you are an idiot.
The flight was some 11 hours. I arrived in Dublin, Ireland shortly before dawn. It took half a dozen long phone calls by the immigration officer to sort things out(whom I found charming and quite attractive, so aside from the induced anxiety, didn't mind spending time with her). I was on the streets of Dublin by noon that day - absolutely, utterly exhausted.
Now I had to find my way to the room I had rented via the Internet in Clondalkin, just on the outskirts of Dublin proper perhaps, but more importantly, close to my new job. I jumped on a Dublin Bus, paid my 1 Euro or so, and sat down, and allowed it to take me far away from my destination. I was the last person on board when the driver pulled over for his break somewhere in South East Dublin, if i recall - Milltown was it? I stepped out, the driver was young, and seemed mildly surprised. I offered him a smoke, and we both sat there, smoking. I looked around and took in the sights of a strange, but pleasant, suburb.
Finally he said as he exhaled a bit of cigarette smoke, "Yer lost, are ye?".
I nodded.
Nearly 2 hours later, I arrived at my Clondalkin destination. A 'terraced house' as they are called.
School had just let out and children were everywhere, playing. I had been awake nearly a day and a half at this point.
There were adults about, corralling the children. Both of them greeted me cordially with "You're the American, are ya?", and pointed me towards the house I was meant to be at. Ciaran, the homeowner, had company. I spent the next few hours visiting with them, and whilst outside, visiting with the neighbors on smoke breaks. I was in my new bed, in a new home, in a new country a short 40 hours after having left Austin, Texas. I slept rather well that night.
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