The Aroma of the City

The sun rose on Ireland while we were yet in our plane; sleepy-eyed and strung out on caffeine and dreams.

The plane landed, we survived customs, then took a bus ride into the heart of Dublin. The city seems to thrive on the energy it creates. Everywhere there are beautiful accents, lovely people, brilliant shop colors, and the smell of every food imaginable wafting our direction.

Naturally, we were starved, and set off to find breakfast. A local was kind enough to point out a joint that featured Irish breakfast foods (not too dissimilar from ours). Roaming the streets was quite the experience. Even when we tried to not be touristy, our nature gave us away. Maybe it was our smiles. Or our lost puppy eyes. Regardless, we found our way. The breakfast was amazing and the people were lovely. (Beware of blood sausage. Bleh.)

Later that afternoon, we took a two hour train ride into Portadown in Northern Ireland, where we were "collected" by the sweet family we're staying with. They took such great care of us. They even went so far as to have gifts waiting for each one of us girls. The coordinator of the congregation made  sure we had gift packages with every possible pamphlet, as well as a loving letter to encourage and to inform.

We learned so much in just under thirty hours. The reality of our international brotherhood was reaffirmed. Even sketchy-looking baggage drops can be trustworthy. The Irish have no idea what Red Lobster is (even if we're trying to give a compliment by saying, "This is as fancy as Red Lobster!"). Kayla can successfully drive a car on the opposite side of the road. Last, but not least, while the "boot" does refer to a car's trunk, and "bonnet" does refer to the car's hood, if someone tells you the horn is called the "hooter", they are completely pulling your leg.

Stay tuned.