After returning to Palermo following my brief sojourn in Salame, my roommate and I had just enough time to relax a little bit, eat the leftover pizza and sweets her relatives sent along with us for the bus ride, pack and say good-bye to “A Casa di Amici.” We then began the second (and final) leg of our journey: Dublin, Ireland.

The first thing we had to do to get to Dublin was to get from Palermo (the very southernmost point in Italy) to Milan, (the very northernmost point of Italy.) We had two options: 33 hour hop-on, hop-off “hitchhiker” like bus (which caters to the backpacking students of the world,) or a slightly more expensive three-hour flight. As intrigued as I was by the epic adventures that bus ride might entail, we decided, mostly based on my tendency towards motion sickness and a lack of time, to go with the flight.
In Italy there is definitely no shortage of public transportation like there tends to be in the U.S, so there wasn’t really an issue getting to the airport in Palermo. It did, however, require much finesse, forced calm and patience as there are many transfers between city busses, coach busses and trains. Once we figured out where we were supposed to get on and off and which busses and trains we needed to get on, we were all set.
Intra-European flights, I’ve found, are much more lax about security than intra-U.S and “international” flights. I was informed, in heavily accented and impatient English at the Palermo airport that I was not supposed to take my shoes off. I hastily shoved my boots back on, only to set off the alarm off. “Please take your shoes off,” the guard glared at me. I tried to get my boots off. Unfortunately, having shoved them back on, they were not on properly, so taking them off would have required grace and balance, two things I do not possess. I fell over. The official and my roommate burst out laughing. Whispering an expletive at my roommate, I went back through the metal detector, and mercifully, did not set it off. Karma, though, my friends, is real: my roommate set the thing off two times and, after the officials could not figure out the source of the problem, she got a visit from the latex-glove lady.
Our flight flew into one Milan airport and our flight to Dublin left from the other Milan airport (we were unaware of this when we booked.) Luckily, our flight from Palermo arrived in Milan in the morning and our flight to Dublin left in the late evening, because it was, as usual, a little tricky to figure out transportation from one airport to the other. This was complicated by a few unlicensed, sketchy looking “chauffeurs,” who were most assuredly trying to con us. Fortunately, the actual taxi drivers presented us with a few options, even mentioning a bus that was half the price of a taxi ride. This is important, readers; don’t EVER go with an unmarked or unlicensed taxi, as there is a definite reason they could not get licensed. Additionally, my roommate and I have found, throughout our travels, the actual licensed drivers, (train conductors, bus drivers, taxi drivers,) have been incredibly willing to help out, and generally know the real deal, sometimes even better than the tourist information booths.
Once at the second Milan airport, we met up with another ISA friend who was coming with us to Dublin, and spent most o the day killing time in a McDonalds, relishing the French fry in a way I never knew possible.
My roomate, me and a friend at Mickey D's in the Milan airport. You can always count on a Mickey D's when you're missing America.
We didn’t arrive in Dublin until around 11 pm, and by the time we got our things and found the bus that took us to Trinity College, it was really late. The first thing we noticed upon exiting the bus is that Halloween is apparently a really big deal. Everyone was dressed up in costumes and loudly parading down the street spilling out of bars and pubs, which were literally on every street corner. Unfortunately, we couldn’t figure out how to get to the hostel from the bus stop, and none of the people on the street were in any condition to help us. Carting our luggage down the street, tired, worn out and cold, we felt increasingly frustrated, awkward and out of place, until we finally asked a taxi driver, who mercifully (told you they’re always helpful,) pointed us in the right direction.
In Dublin, we stayed at the Avalon House Hostel. This hostel was a completely different feel than A Casa Di Amici, with blaring rock music, 12-person co-ed rooms and co-ed bathrooms one each floor. Despite it being very different from the sweet, quiet Bed-and-Breakfast style of A Casa di Amici, it was still a lot of fun, (in an entirely opposite way, of course.) There was a 24-hour reception, and most of the staff was in their 20s and spoke decent English. I found them all to be very helpful, and they had many postings of activities and coupons galore. They also sold toiletries on the cheap, which came in handy since I forgot my towel, and was able to purchase one at the front desk for 2 euro. In addition, Avalon House Hostel had free Wi-Fi throughout the building and about a half-dozen computers in the café area, which was a really nice change from Italy, which seems to be filled with internet-haters.
The next morning I awoke to find that my boyfriend, Matt, was coming to Ireland and had arrange to stay at the same hostel at us, which I, of course, thought was really awesome. It was really nice to see someone from life back home, and made my trip even more memorable and awesome. I also met up with a friend from high-school who is currently studying abroad in Spain. Bringing all the different groups together was a little difficult, but it was nice to catch up with an old friend.
We did most of the important “tourist” things in Dublin, all of which I felt were worthwhile, the Guinness Factory, Kilmainham Goal, Dublin Castle, Trinity College, the writers museum, the James Joyce Cultural Center, Grafton Street, and St. Stevens Green. The only thing we didn’t really get to do is Temple Bar, because it was so crowded we would have had to wait until last call to get in. Oh, and they I.D, which brings me to my next point:
The drinking age in Ireland is 18, but unlike in many other European nations, they are strict about enforcing it. Living in Italy where the drinking age is 16 (and is very rarely enforced, anyway,) I got used to not carrying around my passport, which is generally the only accepted form of ID. In Dublin, I was actually carded a few times. Some bars in Dublin also specifically say 21 and up, even though the legal drinking age is 18, so check that out before you try and get in.
My absolute favorite thing (I guess because I’m a dork,) was Kilmainham Goal. The tour was excellent and the attached museum was quite fascinating and chock full of interesting historical goodies. I highly recommend it.
Matt and I at Kilmainham Gaol
I also highly recommend the Dublin bus Hop-on, Hop-Off tour. The first day we were there, we wandered around by ourselves, which was fine, but we definitely got to see more with the bus tour, which was 7 Euros (for students-another thing, always ask for a student discount as there almost always student discounts in Europe,) for a 24-hour pass. The drivers were knowledgeable, and some were very friendly.
On our last full day in Dublin, we took a day-trip (recommended and arranged by Avalon House staff,) to the Cliffs of Moher, which were absolutely stunning. The tour was run by Dublin Tour groups, (although we got a discount by booking through Avalon House,) and our bus driver was very entertaining and even brought us to an excellent restaurant just outside the Cliffs. It was a long day, to be sure, but it was so worth it.
Me at the Cliffs of Moher
Dublin was hands-down my favorite city, however, I don’t know how well studying abroad would have gone there. Dublin is a city that is always ready for a party, and party we did, every single night we were there. Then, we got up early in the morning and saw the amazing sights Dublin had to offer throughout the day, ate dinner, and stayed up all night again. It was a lot of fun, but I felt like I needed to sleep for a month afterwards to recover. I also caught a fierce cold from, I think, being so run down and the dreary weather, which was a combination of cold and rain.
A final note: when booking busses, make sure you look up where they pick you up and drop you off before leaving on your trip. We decided on a bus back from Milan to Florence because it was a lot cheaper than a train, but if I had to do it again, I’d pay money for the train. The bus picked us up at some random piazza in Milan, which we had to take a subway to from the train station, (again, we only got there in time due to the help of a bus driver at the train station,) and dropped us off on the side of the highway about five miles outside of the city limits of Florence. In the dead of night. In the rain. Luckily, (there is always a lot of luck involved in our travels,) an Italian girl got off at the same stop as us and led us to a city bus stop, which at least got us into the city center, where we were able to safely walk home.