THURSDAY, AUGUST 1
A gorgeous day, sunny and not too hot, and yet we felt this pinching feeling, the impending weight of the return to reality, squeezing on our ribs. Mourning the loss of our freedom, we felt like we were returning to indentured servitude as house/pet sitters. We are two spoiled travellers who wondered if anticipating the worst would make our experience better than bad.
After a large hotel breakfast, we hit the streets of Cork, a town we really like. As per usual, we fell into the usual aimless, happy wander but realized we shouldn’t get too far afield, which in this instance meant continuing along the water’s edge, and turned back toward downtown and the English Market. We were on the hunt for Fiona’s favorite pasta, and also wanted to hit Top Shop to look for a sweater for Chloe.
As we were searching through the sumptuous, enormously tempting market stands in the English Market, I received a text from Olive, who was supposed to drive us to Fiona’s house from Cork after finishing work at 4:00. She said her husband could take us at 2:30.
Yikes. We’d hardly began what we hoped to do, and had to get back to the hotel and catch a cab to the hospital. I panicked about time in general. We didn’t want our easy, self-guided lives to end. I sent a text saying we could try to be there soon, but it would be rushing us. Luckily, Olive texted back that we need not rush, and could meet her at 4.
A deep breath, and back to our errands. I bought new Aididas, the same as my old ones, because the old ones had holes in the bottom. I’d walked completely through them. No good in the rain with a holes. Chloe bought a sweater and some pants. I lost my sunglasses, and we rushed around looked for where I’d left them but ended up buying replacements. The money was thoughtlessly dripping through my fingers. We slammed down a fast salad for lunch (at 3:15) and rushed to meet Olive.
Of course, I then found my sunglasses in my back pocket. That’s how mixed up and panicky I was. We waited on some benches outside a hospital entrance. I think we both wanted to cry…but we were brave, if whiny…
…then we saw Olive. She was smiling and it was so nice to see a familiar face, a kind person who we knew a little bit.
…and then, we drove for an hour and a half from Cork to Fiona’s house, remembering all the great times we had in this part of the world, drinking in the greens, the orange and yellow wildflowers and distant sea, the absolute beauty of Ireland. We listened to Olive tell stories about her four dogs that made us laugh. We felt ever so slightly like we were going home or to a place like home.
…and then we saw Fiona on her front lawn, and Saffi lying in the sun, and the beautiful stone house and all the flowers that Fiona has growing. An older man and his older son were working on Fiona’s screen door. Unexpectedly we were happy, happy beyond belief…to see Fiona and Saffi, happy to have spent time with Olive, looking forward to our walks and the quiet of this remote spot, and a life we kind of know.
The kitchen had been renovated, which of course we love, but otherwise it was all familiar.
Familiar, now that was a strange feeling. We knew where everything was kept, where we were located on the Irish map, who the neighbors are — we could start up with the gossip right away. We knew the names of everyone’s dogs.
Fiona filled us in on the past year, the life of this small Irish village, and the people we came to love when we were here before. And we talked about our travels and Chloe’s time in Milan.
Sometimes expecting the worst brings the best.
Here we go again. The last chapter.
