The Flights and The Dublin Arrival

easyJet flight 8567 just took off.  London Gatwick to Ibiza.  In two hours and five minutes we will land on the small island south of Spain internationally renowned for its world class dance clubs, legendary performing acts, exotic beaches, and beautiful people.  It has been about seven years since I first heard the phrase, "You´re listening to Paul Oakenfold, live, from Space, in Ibiza" blaring through a white Audi´s sound system.  Since that day, my intrigue surrounding this paradisaical, almost mythical destination has increased exponentially.  A direct correlation to my exploration of electronic music, Ibiza was labeled a "must-see location" when planning this trip.  This flight provides the first real opportunity I´ve had to sit down and put some thoughts onto paper.  Let´s revisit how we got to this point.

Departure from Denver was smooth.  Big ups to Mason Goetz for getting us to the airport safely.  At check-in, my pack weighed exactly 15 pounds (currently 8.4 kg according to the Gatwick scales).  I knew it was light but that is impressive.

*Sidenote:  Stella Artois is €1.00 more than a bottled water on this flight.  Guess what I´m drinking.

My first realization in Denver International is that we cannot afford to waste food (calories) - clean plates mean full bellies and gas in the tank.  It will be paramount to our wellbeing.  Naturally, I drank every drop of the large fruit smoothie from TCBY.  Thankfully, this trend has continued as we find ourselves often hungry.

Denver to Newark:  My seat assignment was 31C, an aisle of course.  Unsure what the flight would bring in terms of sleep, food, reading, and socializing, the fate of the next four hours was sealed when a loud "Hello Moto!" ringtone from across the aisle provoked a chuckle from me and the phone´s owner alike.  She was en route to New York for a week of "work and play," which I can appreciate.  We ended up having a refreshingly pleasant conversation during the course of the flight.  Topics of conversation included (but were not limited to): ringtones, knee surgery, street art, yoga, relationships, and life in general.  Got quite philosophical for an afternoon, cross-country flight.  She now understands what "womp" means (I have also realized that in the context of music, it is a great example of onomonatopeoia), and I learned that George Martin (not George R.R. Martin, the author of the Song of Ice and Fire fantasy series I´m reading) was the composer for the Beatles when they featured an ensemble.  Staying true to college form, I managed to spill a vodka-tonic all over one of the three pairs of trousers I have for the next 70 days.  Nice, Andrew.  Immediately, I imagined Koben Williams´ voice over the cabin PA laughing loudly and yelling, "SPILLMASTER!" - this was funny, but unfortunate.  Sitting directly in front of me and Audrey sat another single-serving friend.  Cleo was a 7-month-old girl who hailed from the Aspen-Basalt region.  Naturally, we became instant pals, engaging in several staring contests.  I won some, she won others.  Her behavior, personality, and awareness were endearing and entertaining.  If she wasn´t smiling and trying to fly, she was observing and contemplating her surroundings.  Even her cry was exceptional - silent, with a single tear down one cheek - perfect material for an early-1950s film noir, perhaps dubbed to some old time French music.

Of course, the Denver to Newark flight was delayed an hour, not including the 50+ minutes of sitting on the tarmac.  Cutting our layover time from 2 hours and 14 minutes to just over fifteen minutes total.  Sweet, right?  Cleo and her parents were also on our flight to Dublin, which prompted the coining of the phrase, "If Cleo doesn´t get to Ireland, nobody does," as we got off the flight.  Luckily, our connection was in the same concourse as our arrival.  I bid adieu to Audrey (http://www.pilatesatmuse.com/ - check it out) and set off at a jog with Bowman and Cleo´s parents.  We were the last people to board with mere minutes to spare.  After meeting the Irish couple next to me, I put on Inglorious Basterds and napped as we crossed the pond.

We landed in Dublin at 9:15 in the morning.  Our arrival coincided with the realization that we are, in fact, embarking on a two month tour of completely unfamiliar territory.  This incited mild anxiety but more an excitement to explore the unknown.  We referred to the Lonely Planet travel guide and hopped a bus to the city center.  Our stop in Temple Bar/College Green was in the middle of town.  Still having no idea where to go we consulted a local map to find our hostel.

*MVT (Most Valuable Tool) = Compass.  I pride myself on my sense of direction but the compass has proved invaluable in establishing a heading.

It didn´t take long to realize we will enjoy Dublin and the Temple Bar area.  Pubs, fish ´n chips, clubs, foreign languages, and live music were everywhere.  Our hostel, Oliver St. John Gogarty´s, is one of the most extravagantly decorated exteriors on Fleet Street.  The bar is listed as a historical pub in Dublin with live music from 2:30pm - 2:30am daily.  The accomodations building is connected and easy to find.  We were able to check in early thanks to Helena´s kindness at the front desk.  The stairwells, corridors, and door frames are narrow and not well lit but the atmosphere is comfortable and welcoming.  Room 17, our abode for the next three nights, boasts four sets of bunkbeds, a desk, two chairs, shower, toilet, sink, and window.  Our bunks were furthest from the entrance, ensuring minimal human traffic near our equipment.  After getting settled we set out to gather our bearings and get a feel for the town.  A pint and fish and chips were also a necessity.  After cleaning our plates at Busker´s, we elected to take a quick, and much deserved, siesta.  After the short nap we walked to Connolly Station and purchased "sail and rail" tickets - ferry from Dublin to Holyhead, train to Liverpool - for Saturday.  After logistics were taken care of, we enjoyed a lengthy walk around eastern Dublin and took in some sun - the only sun we would see for the next few days.

Upon returning to Gogarty´s, we met our new roommates.  Pedro is an older fellow from Portugal meeting friends in town and Markus is a German student from Hamburg traveling with his girlfriend.  Markus invited us to join them at the pub downstairs - we accepted.  The remainder of the evening proved perfect for our first night abroad.  The atmosphere in Gogarty´s was exactly what I imagined when considering Irish pubs.  Crowded, lots of conversation, flowing pints, dancing, a banjo and guitar duo gracing the front of the bar playing traditional Irish music interspersed with renditions of more popular songs.  As it happens, most live songs I heard in Dublin were common sing-a-longs.  Walking down the street I couldn´t help but belt out a few lines of Hotel California, Mr. Brightside, Country Roads, Cotton Eyed Joe, and With or Without You as the chords flooded onto the sidewalk.  We sat with Markus, his girlfriend Sina, and an American couple, Jeff and Kateline, for a couple hours sharing pints, telling stories, learning some German pick-up lines (something along the lines of, "your eyes are like stars that fell from the sky"), talking loudly over the music.  To end the night, we grabbed a bite of pizza - saving the traditional Irish food for the next two days - and watched the end of the Barcelona vs. Real Madrid football match in a different pub.  I conversed with a fellow from Afghanistan who was not pleased with Real´s defeat.  A group of beligerent Germans provided sideshow entertainment by breaking mugs and yelling at each other.  To prepare for a big day in the morrow, we made it to bed around midnight.

Day 1 in the books.  We just landed in Ibiza.  It is 1:20am.