Today was a generally pleasant day. No stressing for me, and my aching shoulder blade is starting to feel better.
It all began with an email. The matron of my Italian host family, Monica, emailed me with her phone number and told me that it would probably take me three to four hours to get from Ciampino Airport to Orte train station, so she would be expecting me then. It’s official people! I mean, it was official before, but now I have an address, phone number, plane ticket, and ride from the station to my place of work for two months. Where it stems from, I don’t know, but I love manual labor and working with horses. Combining the two is like a dream come true.
Of course, this excitement was slowly tempered with sadness today. I cycled to the post office to pick up a package from my family (thank you!) and enjoyed the 20 degree Celsius weather so much that I decided to cycle to St. Anne’s Park and Gardens.
For those of you who have read past blogs (Ray Ray!), I have visited St. Anne’s before in March, but went without a camera. Back then it was colder, the park more subdued, and the plants still drab. Now the park was so alive and energized it was hard to believe that the two memories are of the same place. The endorphins from the five mile back ride could have helped in my appreciation of St. Anne’s as well, but I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.
Seeing the Park and Gardens again broke my heart. It’s beauty and history are unparalleled by anything I have witnessed in Texas. And then, naturally, I began to remember all of my travels while here. Connemara, Wexford, Galway, Frankfurt, Geneva, Barcelona, Milan, Venice, London, Cardiff, Montreux, and almost Zurich are all places I have had the privilege to visit, and each had there own unique impressions on me that I will never be able to recreate in America simply because those places and people don’t exist in America. How can I go home and try to get people to understand the fun Jen and I had socializing with small-town Irish while listening to anti-British songs? Or when Sarah, Steven, and I ate ice cream along a Welsh harbor? Or when just Sarah and I paid money to drink (expletive) Twinings in a wealthy town in the Swiss pre-Alps? Or how about when I made it to the top of a hill in the Irish countryside and let the sea breeze and waterfalls listen to my thoughts on things I have never discussed with anyone else? Perhaps instead of lamenting my leaving, I should celebrate what I can bring back to Texas upon my return.
More to the point, St. Anne’s was absolutely gorgeous today. The trees offered shade when needed and a continuous pleasant rustle as the wind blew through their branches. Children, with Irish accents naturally, ran around playing and talking and screaming as mothers and fathers simultaneously gossiped and watched their brood as the grandparents smiled knowingly and rested on benches. First I parked my bike, then I allowed myself a minute to decide if I wanted to take pictures first or study. I settled on catching a few shots. I went through the rose gardens, up the main drive, and reached the bell tower and the fountains around it before I knew I needed to start studying. Returning to the rose gardens, I laid on a bench and let the sun warm me as I read about the human skeletal system. It was probably the most memorable and aesthetically pleasing (except when I study with the always-alluring Matty J and Ray Ray) study hour I have ever had in my life.
Returning to St. Anne’s was the only thing I wanted to do before I left Dublin, but since I have a week left, maybe there are a few pubs and places in the City Centre I should check out. I can’t leave without having another taste bud-tingling Guinness and Black, now can I?
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