Memory Lane

I was traveling down memory lane tonight and this entry into my “journal” (read – the occasional tidbit I will occasionally write), spoke to me and all the feels came back. This is from my first solo trip to Ireland in 2011.

9/27/11: Killiney, County Dublin, Ireland

Today I took a walk to see an obelisk.  This obelisk was erected during the famine to "give the poor people" something to do (the concierge's words, not mine).  It's at the top of Killiney park (which is a CLIMB but not the point) and is surrounded by green things and incredible views - along with 2 other "follies" - a pyramid (known as the wishing stone by locals) and another smaller obelisk (never mind what it's called locally...).  I thought it would be a good thing to see before heading in to Dublin so I meandered up the road to Killiney park.

My intentions were to just walk up, take the required tourist pictures and then walk the other way out to the train.  

Sounds pretty simple and the directions were pretty clear - turn left out of the hotel grounds, walk a bit, turn left into the park, walk up the path and voila.  But we're talking about a people who think nothing of a 700-800 meter change in elevation during a stroll and me - who would get lost in a paper bag with a "one-way out" sign flashing neon.  So I, of course, got lost.  I found the park and I started going up the path and up and up and up and up and up and, well, the picture is drawn.  I finally reach the top and the view is amazing, absolutely gorgeous.  

The View

However, instead of an obelisk greeting me at the top, I see an airplane radio tower and an old building from the 1950's (I know it was from then, thanks to the date mark engraved in the keystone) - no obelisk.  I do a 360 and see the obelisk.  On a different hill.  In the same park. Way.Over.There.  I decide what I've done is good enough and I start to make my way down.

At the bottom, I take the path less trodden on - thinking it would lead me to the hotel quicker and thus quicker to the train.  Because, obviously, I think I know where I am and what direction I need to head.  Suffice it to say, I ended up going back around the park, back up and back down and I finally ended up at an exit to the park and saw the way I had come.  All was not lost, however. There was a nice little coffee shop and I was thirsty.  (I really need to start bringing water with me on my jaunts. Or a map. Or both).  So I stopped and got a coke and a "flapjack".  

(A flapjack is basically granola held together with butter.  Tons of butter.  And it's glorious.)

While eating my snack and enjoying the cool breeze, I began to chat with a lady who was also noshing on some good looking food (honest, I didn't try to steal it from her...).  I told her about my lost pilgrimage to the obelisk and she said, "Oh, that!  It's just up the path here, you can't miss it."  Feeling energized and wanting to complete SOMETHING I set out to do, I finish my snack, put my can in the bin and head off down the path with new energy.

I really need to learn what people around here think "just up the path" equates to.

It was another mountain.  But I made it up there.  I got my pictures and I even got two bonus pictures of a pyramid and smaller obelisk.  I took in the sights of the ocean all around, the clouds rolling in, the autumn colors and I was content.  

Found it!

Just as I was getting ready to head down to get in to Dublin, I was suddenly and enthusiastically greeted by a beautiful HUGE (fat) blonde Golden Retriever.  She was just so happy and she wanted my attention so badly, I had to stop and pet her and tell her what a beautiful girl she was.  She drooled all over me, shook her tail and led me to her human. Her human was sitting at the base of the pyramid looking out over the ocean.  

The pyramid

I sat down next to her and talked to her about her beautiful dog, how my Dad has Goldens and they are such loving critters.  She told me her dog's name was Cindy and we chatted some more.  She shared with me that her husband died a year ago and if it weren't for Cindy, she didn't know what she would do.  We talked about my travels, why I came alone, why I picked the Northern part of the Republic and my kids.  We talked about her kids - 3 boys, 2 living at home (she's 70) - one with a disability so she's his caregiver, the other just coming through a nasty divorce after 18 years.  The third lives in Poland.  We talked about the state of the economy and that she thought it was grand that I was out, traveling and seeing the sights. 

She told me she didn't want to carry on.  So I sat with her.  Listened, talked and petted Cindy.  Then Cindy told her it was time to go and she left. I sat for another 15 minutes just thinking about the lady and how, even in this great big world, it can be so very small.

So I had plans to go to Dublin today but Cindy changed them for me.  I think, in some small way, I might've helped this lovely woman, at least I hope I did.  I know she touched me and I will always remember her and Cindy.  I didn't get her name, she didn't get mine, but I don't think it mattered.

Plans change.  And if you're listening, and if you're receptive, they could touch you in a way you never thought possible.