Today I woke up a bit to early, and by that I mean around 07.00. That is not right for a Sunday morning. But I did not do did on my own free will. It was... yes, you are right. It was my sister, she was stepping on my face. Well, I got up, and continued to pack. I went down to eat breakfast, and then went up again, after eating about 10 slices of bread. (Yep, a lot of food, but I felt very hungry only a few hours later)
Then I got up at the room to check we did not had forgotten anything. Went then down again, with my backpack and jacket and shoulder bag.
We "logged out", and handed in our door-cards. And we sent mom and dad on the airport-bus. And gone were they...
In the meantime, I found a bus to O´Connell Street, and ended up getting lost, with a 15 kg bag pack on my shoulders. The I had to find my map, and just figure out which way that was up. EVENTUALLY I found the street I was looking for, and then I had to find "Porterhouse" in Nassau Street, and I kept on looking for the statue of Molly Malone.
After a lot of "I'm-lost-where-the-fuck-is-Porterhouse", I found Porterhouse, and I went in... and started waiting...
And waiting... and after a LONG time Padraig came, and everything was OK. We had tea, and sat there talking, and then Synneve came, and she had a Bulmers Pear Cider, and joined the talk... Then James appeared, and we sat and talked even longer, and the time flew away. And then James ran off, and Padraig had to reach his train, and Synneve said that "We have a lot of time".
(Padraig is my long, lost Irish brother, and I love him to bits)
After a large portion of chips and salad, we headed off towards "Bus arse" (that's not the name of the place, but I think that was what Padraig called it : Busáras)
And then we ended up waiting a lot, cause we had squint-eyed on the bus-table, and we thought there were a bus at 16.00, but that was not the case. We had to wait until 17.30.
We took the bus to Waterford, and then to Tramore. And we had a nice bus driver...
Of course did we get lost in Tramore too. It was inevitable. Cause Synneve meant we should get off the bus, before he drove back to Waterford. So we got off in the middle of nowhere. Synneve ended up crying and I (as the heroin I am) found my lovely android phone, turned on the internet, and roamed. I had to log on to Synneve´s Couch-surfing-account, and find the message from our host, so that I could find the address. That was a few, expensive minutes. BUT I found the address, and we started walking towards what we thought was the city centre. Then we found a handsome man, and we asked him were the Church was, and then were Meadowbrook was. He told us that we were on the completely wrong side of town, so he called a taxi for us. *Our hero of the day*
Then the taxi came, and we praised our hero. We drove up to the address, and told our host what that had happened. We got a room and a cup-of-tea.
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