The Rocky Road to Dublin

The sun coming up to the left of us laid it's first fingers on the hills across the bay as the fishing boats headed out to work, sliding across the top of the peat steeped water, leaving it looking like glistening crocodile skin in their wake, but bringing about no sign of the lone dolphin who has, apparently, made these waters his home for nearly thirty years. The locals all wonder why an animal that typically travels in packs would suddenly break off, and choose to live the rest of his life in Dingle Bay... But I know why...
As the sun arced higher through meandering wisps of cloud, it strikes a light on the trail of simple white farm houses that line the one road on the peninsula across from us, and I am reminded that Nature's first green is gold, and that it is her hardest hue to hold. Just like Erika and myself on this wet and rocky lump of paradise, nothing gold can stay.

I'll see you when I close my eyes
and in my own reflection.
My face, though vacant in disguise,
will, on further inspection,
bear the map that leads me home
to these far rocky shores.
My mind will sail across the foam,
My heart is ever yours.

The drive back to Dublin felt like the longest drive of my life... including the time my best friend and I drove from Missourri to California in just over twenty-four hours without stopping except for gas and food. Though it only took about four and half hours, it seemed I had eternity to contemplate what I was leaving, and what I was leaving it for. Really, if not for the fact that,after two weeks of spending Euro's while also not earning any dollars, I am in dire need of more money, I don't think Erika could have brought me back to Dublin.
Now that we're in Dublin, we are both exhausted, and ready to leave. We got to town with plenty of time to gas up the car (by the way 1.55 Euro per litre ends up costing $107ish to fill up. Ridiculous.), check into our hotel, return the car, then head to Temple Bar to meet up with my friend Forrest and his wife, who came over from Scotland to see us... or, at least, it SHOULD have been enough time. Just finding Agassi station in Dublin (without running over 10,000 drunken Saint Patrick's Day tourists) was enough of an adventure... Then we spent two hours or so with the hotel, trying to get them to give us the room we had booked. After we got that all sorted, and took the car back, we asked the lady at the hotel desk where we could find an ATM. A ten minute walk in roughly 39 degree weather (Fahrenheit), then ten minutes back to catch a bus into city centre... which did not work because ATMs only give out bills like 20's and 50's, and the bus only accepts exact fares, and only with coins... which the lady at the desk was kind enough not to tell us when we asked for the locations of the ATM and the bus stop in the same breath. So we started walking, hoping to get a taxi along the way, but none were lit up. By 9:45 we decided it was not going to working, meeting up with Forrest and Sami, who had arranged to meet us at the Trinity Bar at 6:30. I'm sure they still had a good night, but ours did not go at all according to plan.