I’m leeeaving on a jet plane…. again.

I’m leeeaving on a jet plane…. again.

My love for Ireland only seemed to truly sink in about a 2 months ago, maybe this is the time it takes to truly feel at home in another place after moving countries. 9 months or so? Now it’s starting to sink in that I’m going to have to leave a home I’ve created for myself… again. Leave the amazing friends I’ve made here, my awesome workplaces and colleagues (who are also the amazing friends!) My cute (but lately bloody noisy) apartment that’s only a 15 minute walk from the beach but only 25 minutes from downtown.

The little country with the big presence. Who doesn’t love the Irish?! Every one I’ve met has been kind, friendly, and HILARIOUS! (Well maybe apart from one… and I know there are the crazy hooligan ones as all places have but I never met any :p )

It doesn’t get easier saying goodbye

I knew it was coming. I’ve experienced this all before when leaving New Zealand, and then London after my two years was up there, and leaving New Zealand again, and now Ireland. (I realise this is all self-inflicted and rather first world problems I have, as it’s been my choice to go and leave all of these places I’ve been so fortunate to visit in the first place). I wondered if maybe it’d be easier this time. Because I went though it leaving the UK I knew what to expect ya know? But no… It won’t be any easier. Maybe even harder because I only got one year here in Ireland.

northern ireland giants causeway my radical exploration
My amazing PSI girls (minus a couple) and I, at the Giant’s Causeway in Northern Ireland

Just keep swimming

It hasn’t all been easy, at times it was bloody hard! Like flat-hunting in my first week here and getting NOWHERE! Well apart from getting LOST in a dodgy area of Dublin while viewing the 1 crappy flat that got back to me, in the rain, in the evening, wandering around fuming slash trying not to cry tears of bitter frustration because my shitty phone was on 2%! But I made it back to my friend’s place after about an hour or so and hey it’s all character building right?! I mean thank god I had my mates lounge to stay in and not another hostel! I would’ve had a breakdown.

Or how about the Irish system when getting a tax number, bank account and immigration card. So to get bank account you need proof of address such as a utility bill, to get a utility bill you need proof of address and a bank account, to get a tax number you need proof of address and proof of employment, for proof of employment you need proof of address, see the vicious circle here? All this when you’ve only been in the country for less than a week!

Then there’s the 6 hour wait to get your card at immigration. Which they charge you €300 for the pleasure! I had to line up twice because I stupidly booked a recruitment appointment the first time at 12.30pm thinking since I got there at 6.30am I’d be long gone. But nope. One man even collapsed at the counter, we all felt his pain! Ireland is the hardest country I’ve moved to in terms of starting out and getting important requirements things sorted. But once that’s sorted it should be smooth sailing from there!


So I’ll do my best to soak in the last few weeks – appreciate every moment I’ve spent here. Store it all in my brain so I can look back on all the good times and those that have made me more resilient. I’ll remember how unbelievably lucky I’ve been to experience these legendary green lands. The chances I’ve had to meet so many different people from all over the world. These memories will keep me going as I fly off again, leaving one home to visit another.

Ireland Aran Islands my radical exploration
Alina & Ariane, two of my great ‘Irish’ friends, and me, visiting the Aran Islands


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