February 22, 2015

Irish food comas, and travels in the air.

Last week I visited Dublin (Ireland, not Georgia) and the Centre for Deaf Studies at Trinity College. And it turns out that a week away was just the best! 

I will admit the days approaching my departure were filled with anxiety and doomsday scenarios. You see, Lindsay now hates the idea of flying. Sigh. Which you can imagine, is quite…inconvenient.
"Why now?" you may ask. 
"Well, I figure it's time that my luck starts to run out." I respond. 
I know this is illogical and goes against the law of probability. But there you have it. Y'all know I'm not a mathematician. I'm a linguist.

Anyway. You can imagine my relief when I landed in Ireland unscathed. I immediately decided to enjoy myself. So in addition to my meetings at Trinity, where I got to try my horrible hand at Irish Sign Language, and meeting up with old acquaintances met in Australia, I went on a beer and food safari. It was indulgent, and delicious, and full of big-city envy.

I ate Mexican food, and Indian food, and Vegetarian food, and Irish food, and Japanese food. I drank no less than 8 different kinds of Irish craft beer. Pints of liquid joy. I even had a Guiness too. There aren't many things about living in a big city that I miss--traffic, people, trash--but boy-oh-boy do I miss going out to eat without having to do an hour of research on the Internet beforehand (Paris excepted). Thank you Dublin. I salute you.

It was also (weirdly) weird to speak English. Like, all the time. And they understood me.

Flying "issue" or not, the next few months are full of travel. Røros/Sweden, Paris, London, maybe Paris again, and Utrecht. Hm. We'll see.

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