Arriving in Dublin, on Saturday morning. The plane landed at around 7.30am. I was gazing out of the window, and listening to the pilot speaking over the microphone. He said: “In Dublin it’s almost Winter. It’s 14 degrees”. I don’t know if he was trying to raise peoples’ spirits or dampen them! Anyhow, he didn’t dampen mine. I actually thought it was quite warm for so early in the morning! I had geared myself up for some cold weather, so Ireland was just a refreshing climate for now! Holland had been quite warm (mid 20‘s), Rome was roasting (high 30’s) and India was constantly warm - no clue of the temperature, just heat all the time with the sun beating down and encouraging my wrinkles to deepen and forcing me to stay indoors during the warmest hours - but still I loved that climate, just like I‘d love the climate here in Ireland too.
I was still gazing out the window, as we were landing. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen such clouds, hanging so low. We were on the ground, and still up in the clouds; must have been a foggy morning! But I loved the sight of those dark clouds. As well, seeing all the planes from the different Irish airlines - the most popular being Aer Lingus - gave me a sense of coming home. The sight of them on the runway, has always given me this feeling, ever since I was a child. Aer Lingus was the first airline we used to fly with, whenever we would come over from Holland to Ireland on holidays. So nice to have such memories.
I stepped off the plane, I was on Irish soil and smelt the most unpolluted air I’ve smelt in months; even though the airport is close to the city. I was wrecked at this stage and was so grateful with the ease in knowing that I didn’t need to go traipsing around an unfamiliar city, with my heavy backpack, in search of a place to stay, or in search of public transport. I wasn’t going to be experiencing any kind of unfamiliarity at all. I didn’t have to think! Yay! All I had to do, was get myself through the airport and out the other side, where Ma was waiting for me.
Nearly 17 months after getting on plane to Oz and I was back in the place I started out from. I felt I’d aged! But also, I felt full of life for the new experiences, and drained of energy from the constant moving I’d been doing. But I was fine with that. It’s simply travelling. And with that comes a certain amount of pressure that can be tiring. But the magic that comes, in return for the challenges I sometimes consciously put upon myself, is far more rewarding. I have no regrets whatsoever, about how I’ve been moving. I may have shed some kilos in the process - something that everyone has noticed over the past weeks - but resting for the next while should get me back on track. I actually don’t know what length of time the “next while” is, but I'll have some answers to that query pretty soon I guess. The shedding of weight is actually a different subject all together. For now, I’m not going to go into it. I don’t feel the need to convince anybody of anything, because I don’t need to convince myself. I’m happy, I’m healthy and life is smiling at me - because I’m smiling at it!