We live in Dublin 6. Dublin 2 is the area north of us
bordering the river and the splotch above the river goes by Dublin 1. Dublin 4
isn’t far off and adding those up is pretty much where your day to day life
takes place; walking from our home to Dublin 1 is half an hour of sturdy
strides and we’re in an area where the average tourist doesn’t even venture
into, that small the actual city centre is. Now you see, Dublin counts about
1.3 million inhabitants. And as the Irish generally don’t seem to build houses
more than three stories high you wouldn’t get those 1.3 mln squeezed into an
area that could easily be covered on foot. Today I found out where at least a
decent portion of those other people live. The girl and I were to pick up our
freshyly ordered bikes in Dublin 24.
The taxi ride there already took close to half an hour –with
roads not even too congested after rush hour- and no way would we have found that
Halfords unit on our own with the dismal bus system they have in place here. With
howling winds, slashing rain that felt like hail stones thundering down, and
the night already ink black we were happy to cross the parking lot, dodging puddles
on the way, reaching the safe haven of the huge Halfords store. We got our
bikes, paid loads of money to the only guy working there in that huge store
empty of people, and ventured off into the night, with little idea how to get
home.
* Salesman: “Just follow that road and you’ll head back into
the city eventually.”
* Us: “The road we took with the taxi? Can you do that by
bike?”
* Salesman: “That guy says you can.” (pointing vaguely to a
distant figure in the store below the Harfords unit)
The reason for us trying to verify whether we could take
that route by bike wasn’t idle as about 20 minutes later we were ploughing our
way strenuously through everything that Mother Nature threw at us, on a road
that resembled a highway all too well, with cars zooming past us and covering
our already soaked outfits with another spray of mud and water.
You may think now; poor Bo, poor Tony, such weather, such
hardship, such pain! Such agony! Well, I loved
it! We had just bought two awesome bikes, we were cycling in a new area of
Dublin that we had never been to before, defying the Irish weather… with the
water dripping from my face I was smiling broadly and enjoying tremendously. I
was beginning to feel at home and starting to acquire the means to do so! And although
I may be a little strange for acting as such, when I stopped occasionally to
see how well Bo was catching up, her face was beaming with joy as well, soaking
wet and covered in filth. She rivals my optimism and resilience all too well
and particularly in those circumstances that becomes all too evident. I couldn’t count
myself luckier :)
And the bikes, they were well worth it! Never have I ever
owned a brand new bike. Never. I have had bikes that looked new, brushed up
well with previous owners looking having looked after it decently enough, but
never have I owned a bike with no one else ever having used it before. This is
new, and it’s great. I baptised mine James, a fit name for such a slick hero,
and Bo’s bike’s called Mary. I bought a lock for money I wouldn’t buy a bike in
the Netherlands for, and seek to have it insured soon enough as well. James,
what a champ, he makes me feel even more at home.
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