The Plan

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I’ll start by saying I have always wanted to go to Ireland. It’s drawn me as long as I can remember. Finally, this January, I planted the idea of a trip to Ireland in my best friend, Jenn’s, mind. Once she informed me that she was dead set on going to Greece, however, I knew it would take some work. I’m basically the whitest white person ever, and the sun is not my friend. Greece simply wasn’t on my radar screen. “Ireland is very green,” I told her, knowing she works in horticulture. Didn’t quite work, but she seemed to be bending a little, so I went in for the coup de grace “There’s lots of booze in Ireland, you know.” I saw her eyes light up. Home run.

We got some guidebooks and started researching possible destinations and flight prices. Originally, we had planned to go on a two week trip, but just before we were going to book our tickets online, Jenn blurted out “Let’s go for three weeks! I mean, since the flights are so expensive, we should make the trip worth it.” Ignoring the little voice of reason in the back of my head that was telling me how illogical it was to spend even MORE money on a third week, in order to make expensive flights ‘worth it’, I agreed. And so, our flights were booked. On St. Patrick’s Day. Yes, we’re corny.

A little background on the type of trip this was to be - neither of us drive, because we’re both huge wusses. No, seriously, we just don’t. So this trip was to be accomplished using public transport. Also, we’re fairly budget travellers. Originally, we had planned to stay in hostels for the entire trip (in private rooms, with our own ensuite bathroom - because, sharing bathrooms with boys? Gross!) but as the plan came together, we sprinkled some Bed and Breakfasts and even a Castle into our itinerary.

After our flights were booked, I spent countless hours researching bus routes, hostels, day trip options, the best pubs, etc. etc. This was to be our first unescorted trip to Europe (I’d been to France on a school trip and Jenn had been to Spain and Portugal with Contiki), so I wanted to have a bit of a plan. Upon seeing the binder full of info I’d assembled, Jenn commented that she’d have to stick to me like glue, and if we got separated, I was to check the gutters for a drunk girl saying “I think we’re in Belfast….”. I think she was only half joking.

Finally, after five months of planning, and of torturing friends, family members and coworkers with countdowns and with every minute detail of our plan, our day of departure was here. Yay!

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