A Sort Of Homecoming

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The location, Heathrow airport in London. A beautiful spring morning. My mind lost amidst a slideshow of the last 8 days, fatigued from staying up late and getting up early with the sweat provided by poor coat selection combined with the lovely weather. Staring out the window into the morning sunshine watching the touch and go of the planes. An Irish family seated behind me where doing what most families with small children do at airports, talk too much. The accents familiar, like voices from the past. I began enjoying the sounds of language from behind me. The sounds of dialogue brought me back to a place from before and the anticipation of returning. I relaxed, I would soon be walking the streets of my past in a place I used to call home. There would be dear friends to spend time with, lives to catch up with. The flow of thoughts slowed to a trickle. Today was to be a sort of homecoming.

There were complications with the planes cargo while we sat aboard in London waiting. My arrival in Dublin was an hour late and this was a 50 minute flight. Declan was waiting for me so I was aiming for a quick trip through customs and baggage collection. The customs officer was on the phone setting up a lunch date, once he was content with his social planning I was asked one question and received my 90 day stamp (last time I got 14 days as I have overstayed my Visa a few years back). Out into the arrival area to see one of my best friends in the world Declan seated reading a paper. In no time short haired Declan and long haired me were in a southbound taxi telling jokes and stories with the friendly driver. I forgot how relaxed the people in this country are and how relaxed this all makes me.

Declan was to be my host and drinking partner for my time in Dublin. Declan and Carmel who I both worked with when I lived here, have a lovely cottage in the Docklands area. Declan and I decided to venture into the city and revisit one of our most frequented pubs in Dublin, Bruxelles. Pints of Guinness, stories and catching up between friends, just the way it is supposed to happen. Soon we were joined by Ming (another friend and ex-coworker) then Carmel (my other host). We had a few drinks and checked the basement bar for the table we carved on St Patty's Day in 2006 (couldn't find it, the bar is less of a dive then it used to be). Deco and Carmel were planning a meal at a nearby restaurant called The Rustic Stone as it has been receiving some buzz since it opens it's doors recently. We were well into the jolly side of intoxication when we got to the restaurant, we were the last table seated and had to rush our order (we work in the business we should know better to show up so late). We got some starters, a large steak which comes on a hot stone to finish the cooking process, and loads of sides plus a couple bottles of red. My taste-buds were particularly taken by the fish brandade and the truffled potato wedges as the highlights, but everything was great. We left even jollier then when we first got there and retired to home. It was a big first day.

Over the course of the next few days my two hosts worked long hours leaving me wandering about the city re-seeing some sights, retracing footsteps of my past and catching up on sleep. I caught up with Ming for a tour of areas of Trinity College for students only( I love being places I shouldn't), hung out with Nadia (who took over my flat when I left Dublin in 06), beers with Ronan (who I partied with in Sydney), beers with Dave McGuire (ex-coworker) and guitar time with Anna (from the Portage days in New Zealand). As Declan and I have been friends for some time now his mother has heard plenty of stories about me and I have heard many a thing about her so an encounter was planned. The four of us went for dinner at another lovely restaurant and listened to stories about Declan's upbringing and tales of his youth from a great source. The food was great. The company was great.

Saturday night got as carried away as one could have predicted. The sun had risen when I curled up on the couch after the stair to couch jump n roll competition was finished. The Irish weather had allowed some sunshine and pleasant parts of some days but refused to supply a complete beauty of a day. I awoke in the late afternoon to an excited Declan telling me to get up we had to go. Outside presented blue skies, we had a plan to hike the Howth Mountain to watch the sunset. In no time Declan, Carmel and I were ready, well hungover but excited. The trip on the DART train brought back a few memories of excursions to purchase fish at the pier and ending up and the pub instead. We explored the Sunday market, had a breakfast pint at The Bloody Stream then started our little trek to catch the sunset atop the mountain. Across the golf course, past Howth Castle, past the resort and into the hillside. Our friends Ming and Dave were already on the hillside waiting for us, so with the use of the “Howth Call”which was some sort of a whoop we had located the couple. As Declan and Dave both grew up in this area and had spent many of times on this hill playing or just getting up to no good, they had many stories to tell as we walked the trails. Tales, jokes, memories it was hard to tell what may have been real but there was talk of druids, ferries, a crazy man with a chainsaw, police chases and childhood mischief. It was beautiful being in the forest, spring is beginning and the flowers are in bloom. Plus it was nice to see the two locals light up with the revelry of walking through their own pasts. On top we found a place to look down at the narrow piece of peninsula that makes Howth a part of the mainland, plus Ireland's Eye but the Dublin city view we had hoped to see was misty. We had brought up a few cans of beer for the sunset and even started a fire to keep us warm. We drank while we watched the sun get lower in the sky and the gang all shared their previous adventures and memories of this place and I just tried to sop up the atmosphere, the view and the moment.

I am Canadian. I was both born and raised there. I love hockey, I drink large one and ones, I speak two languages poorly, I think bacon and maple syrup is a genius flavour combination. I've jumped off the roofs of houses into snow deeper than my height. All these things are subject to the environment I grew up with. Some things about myself have just been acquired, the Irish last name, the blue eyes, the freckles, the red beard, the unhealthy reaction to direct sunlight, the love of a pint of Guinness, story telling, drunken storytelling and having a laugh at most anything. The Irish roots do explain a few things. Ireland is home to my ancestral background. During my year in Dublin I grew up alot, moments presented themselves, youth yielded into young manhood. I can remember some of the scenes of my life in Dublin. I watch the street corner, the building I close my eyes, I hear the city, the old feelings attached to old memories are still alive deep inside a vault, I can feel them again.

Dublin consisted of relaxed days, a great social circle, unpredictable evenings, good food, nice restaurants but more importantly great people to share this time with. Declan and Carmel were fantastic hosts, I felt more like a lost son then a friend. People took time out of there busy lives to spend some time with me and that is flattering as I know how busy our lives can be.

Huge thanks to Declan and Carmel, you two are nothing short of legends in my books. Dave for making some time for drinks and the airport drive, Ming for finding the time for the chats and the lovely tour, Ronan for the fun evening out, Nadia for the revelry and Anna for the guitar sessions and the chats. It was a journey through my past , seeing the changes in my friends, seeing the changes in myself by tracing my old footsteps and trying to recapture a glimpse of who I used to be. The world spins, time ticks, days go by, we get older, we change but its a grand thing after all these changes, all these years friendships strengthen. I am a fortunate man to have the hearts of friends as large as they are in Dublin. Tears have fallen on my previous two departures from Dublin but this time I had a dry departure as I am beginning to feel like we will remain important characters in each others lives and will re-encounter each other at some point. In Ireland the Guinness is great, the people rank greater. A couple pints of Guinness, a couple of good friends, this combination makes great moments. Dublin an important home on the way home.

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