City Living

I am slowly but surely adapting to the city life here in Dublin. Living and growing up in the tiniest town in the world, it seems, to living in a city such as Dublin has been quite the experience. I have learned a lot about the city life thus far in my journey and it can only go up from here.

It took some time and I am still learning the Dublin Bus system here but I have the gist of it, I do believe. There are essentially three main bus numbers I have to remember if I want to get into the city and back, and a fourth one I take to get to my internship during the week. The only thing I dislike about the bus I take into work is that it takes nearly a half hour bus ride to travel approximately a little over one mile or so and the majority of that time is sitting in still traffic for about the first half mile after I get on the bus. I can’t complain all that much, though, because it would take me about 40 minutes if I walked. And that’s assuming I won’t be standing still in foot traffic.

I don’t know if every city is like this or not, or if it is just a European or Dublin thing, but there are either people power walking a million miles an hour or people walking their turtles. There really is no in between. When I get off the bus each morning I have about another 10 minutes of walking before I actually get to work. The turtle walkers are generally the ones that take up the whole center portion of the sidewalk and the million-mile-an-hour people are running an obstacle course around each other and the turtle walkers. So, you can assume my Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday mornings are fun.

The people of Dublin are laid back for the most part, as for punctuality, so they don’t mind so much if you turn up a few minutes late. And often times they look at you a little goofy if you show up eight minutes too early for work. They are also very avid about not working over your “home time.” I think at least five of the six days I have worked so far, my supervisor tells me to go home right at 5 0’clock even if I am in the middle of working on something. Yesterday, I disobeyed orders and stayed fifteen minutes past 5 after my supervisor looked at me at 5:01 and says, “Uh, Casey. Home time.”

Going back to the “10 minute walk after the bus ride to work thing,” let’s talk about my walk into work yesterday morning. I was about half way through the 10 minutes, on the last stretch before I reached my destination, and I was crossing an extremely crowded crosswalk, when all of a sudden…

Now, do you remember how I left you on Monday with the goal of catching a pigeon by hand by the end of my time in Ireland? Well, I suppose they heard me talking about it or mysteriously read my blog, but just as I almost reached the other side of the road, “Whack.” A pigeon flew full-force into the side of my head and then smacked me in the face a couple of times with its wing. I felt like I was in a remake of “The Birds” and, if you ask me, that was pretty damn rude of it. It surely did wake me up and it surely did give the old man walking behind me a giggle. It literally came out of nowhere.

I got to work and it slipped my mind for a bit and then I remembered and told my coworkers and supervisor about it and they all responded by saying they have never heard of such a thing. Except for Eugene. Eugene told me they train pigeons over here to attack Americans. Do I blame the pigeons? Well, obviously.

Until next week, my fellow readers!


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