Germany

Germany: Chapter One

We arrived in Germany 15 days ago. Stephen had booked a room at the airport hotel because he knew we’d be very tired after our flights and would just want to go to sleep as soon as we could. I had wheelchair service so a man with a wheelchair met the plane and I stepped out of the airplane door right into a wheelchair. We had checked my big walker all the way through so I expected to get that and use it to walk to the hotel. But as these things go, my walker had not arrived with us. Stephen had to file a lost and found report, which took quite awhile as the airport staff had to locate the walker first. The wheelchair attendant had to wheel me to the hotel, instead of just to the baggage claim. This was not his usual job and he was pretty annoyed about it. Tell me about it buddy! Sheesh! You think you’re put out that you have to push me further than you wanted to. I have lost my independence and have to rely on others to get me from place to place!  He stopped the wheelchair outside the hotel and Stephen had to ask him to wheel me inside to a chair. I have a walker for a reason!! Believe me, if I could walk without assistance, I’d happily do so!!!

We are now in a different hotel. This one Stephen booked for a month. It’s an apartment-hotel and the room keys have printed on them the text “your other address”. We received a welcome gift of assorted goodies accompanied by a handwritten card from the manager with “Welcome home” on the front flap. 

So it’s a hybrid experience. We have cleaning service once a week when they replace the linens and the room is equipped with a limited supply of kitchen tools in addition to some appliances.

The 3rd day we were here, I went downstairs to the hotel cafe. We had had the buffet breakfast on the 1st day, as a complimentary gift. With breakfast, I had a pretty good coffee from the machine and I thought I might just get another coffee like that while I waited for the cleaners to finish in our room. But as it turned out, ordering a latte was quite the discombobulating experience. 

My sleep schedule was still way off from jet lag and I had only just awakened from a nap when we left the room. Though we were told staying was okay, we opted to leave to give the cleaners space to work and went downstairs to the café. I wanted a nice hot latte so I went to the bar and asked, “Can I order a latte?” I wasn’t sure if they even served anything after the breakfast buffet. His response to me was something I couldn’t understand so I said, “mit milch” which means “with milk” he then said something I did understand and my reply was yes but I instead of using either German or English I said, “sí”.  

What?!? 

I’ve studied so many languages the language center in my brain is swimming in all kinds of words and sometimes it’s hard to bring to mind the specific word I want to use. So I made a kind of short humming sound and then corrected myself “Ja!” ~ yes in German. The waiter laughed and then said to me, “Yo hablo español un poco.” I just smiled and nodded because my reply was, “same” but I wanted to say it in Spanish and couldn’t bring the words to mind fast enough.  🙃

I realized after I sat down to wait for my coffee that I forgot to say “kaffee” and I was worried that I was just going to get a glass of milk. But I heard the beans grinding and the steamer wand hissing so I was relieved. Then he brought the latte to my table and it was in a glass that didn’t feel hot in my hand like I expected it might. It was lukewarm. And really really weak. I seriously considered trying to ask the woman who was cleaning the tables to at least put another shot of espresso in it, but I didn’t have confidence that I would be able to successfully communicate that. And it could easily have become a hairy mess. So I drank the nearly undrinkable “latte” because there was nothing else to do, really. It also stung a bit when I had to pay 4.50 euros for it too. We’ve already had some delicious lattes from coffee shops near the hotel and paid 3.90 Euros. Superior coffee for less.  😏

Also, when the waiter brought the coffee he asked, “Sugar?” I paused to find the word and then replied, “Nein, danke.” ~ “no, thank you” He then in turn paused because he was expecting English. But then said, “Welcome.”  Yikes. I’m trying to practice my German but he’s just expecting me to communicate.

Some people are able to switch languages faster. And also use two languages at once. For example, I was looking in the window display at this shop selling these adorable tiny rolling pins and stamps for cookie dough. The window was full of all different designs and I was marveling at them. A woman came up beside me and made some comments in German. I gathered that she was actually talking to me so I said, “Tut mir leid” which means “sorry” in German, “Englisch?” She smiled and just immediately started speaking in English. “I was just saying that these would be great for a special dinner, perhaps.” We proceeded to have a little conversation about how fun they were and the different ways we could think of using them. Then she said, “Have a good day!” 

There’s quite a lot of English here. Many people we’ve encountered are quite fluent. The repair man for the hotel who came to help me with the dryer spoke to me in fluent English and seemed to understand what I said to him in English. Of course there were moments of hesitation to find the right word to respond to one of my comments or questions but his expressions confirmed he understood my humor at my own ignorance about both the German language and the machine itself. It turned out the dryer was working fine, I just didn’t know how to use it. 

Which makes me think of The Martian starring Matt Damon. This morning I had this quote from Mark Watney running through my mind~ “You just begin. You do the math. You solve one problem. Then you solve the next problem. And then the next. You solve enough problems, then you get to come home.” Living in a foreign country, is a little bit like going to Mars. 

Not quite as dangerous. 😜🙃🤣

And we aren’t trying to go home, we’re trying to problem-solve enough to be able to stay.

We thought Europe would be “easy”. Turns out things are not as “easy” as we thought they might be.

But that’s for the next post. 😉

Timor-Leste

 

Timor-Leste

{A quick side note before I launch into the postàNow that I’ve shared how my worsening MS symptoms have been in the background of my life since 2019, I feel a little better sharing more about our travels. From our home base in India, we visited a number of unique and interesting countries. I have been somewhat reticent about sharing those travel experiences: Because of my mobility challenges, (a symptom of MS) I’ve known that our adventures in each country have been curtailed. I’ve been self-conscious about that fact. Normal, healthy people most certainly would have done many more activities than my disability would allow. I’m now trying to be okay with the experiences we did have and not compare myself to others.}

 

As I’ve mentioned before, Stephen’s job with the WHO, though based in Delhi, was a regional position. This meant that of the eleven countries in the SEARO region, Stephen worked with ten. The one country Stephen didn’t work at all with was North Korea.

We traveled to Timor-Leste soon after our trip to Nepal, early October 2022.

I knew immediately that I wanted to go to Timor-Leste when Stephen said he had a “mission” coming up there. (The WHO calls work trips in the region “missions”.) Little did I know, but our trip to Timor-Leste would be one of the most amazing experiences of all our many adventures abroad. Years ago, when Stephen and I moved to South Africa, (our very first international move), I had a vision in my mind’s eye of what I hoped our life would be like. Our short time in Timor-Leste was exactly what I had originally dreamed for our life abroad. It was really the most serendipitous of experiences. (Or maybe there was Divine intervention.)

Neither Stephen nor I had ever been to Timor-Leste before. But it’s not just a new country for us, it’s also a relatively new country on the world stage. Only since 2002 has Timor-Leste been its own country. For many years it was a colony of Portugal. In 1975 Timor-Leste declared its independence from Portugal. But Indonesia had other plans and invaded. Under Indonesian occupation, Timor-Leste suffered such atrocities that Yale University includes it as part of its Genocide Studies. And today Timor-Leste is one of the poorest countries in Southeast Asia. Years of colonization and violent occupation have left Timor-Leste with a 20% unemployment rate and an estimated third of the population illiterate. I didn’t know all of this history before we visited. But it makes sense that I would feel drawn to a country with just such a history.

Our journey to Timor-Leste started with an overnight flight from New Delhi, India to Bangkok, Thailand. 

Flying Thai Airways is always such a pleasant experience. We arrived in the wee hours of the morning at the Suvarnabhumi (Suh-varn-na-pumi) Airport. I love being anywhere in the very early morning. The day is not yet in full swing, few people are milling about (those who are being more subdued), and it’s generally calmer and more pleasant. (I’m not a morning person, typically, so it’s only when something forces me to be awake early that I get to enjoy what the early morning has to offer.) We made the long journey from the arrival gate to the departure gate using the moving walkways to help, had some breakfast and coffee, then waited for our connecting flight to Bali.

One of the very few routes to Timor-Leste is through Bali. And our only option was to stay overnight in Bali to catch one of the two flights to Dili, Timor-Leste the next day. Though we booked a room at the airport hotel, and would only be staying one night, we were still required to purchase a 30-day visitor’s visa.

For our flight from Bali to Dili, we took an airline that had only just begun offering service from Bali to Timor-Leste. The flight attendants of Sriwijaya Airlines were extraordinarily pleasant, greeting us and assisting us in a most cheerful way. The whole flight experience was thoroughly enjoyable. I drew on my iPad,

enjoyed an above average airline breakfast 

and watched out of the plane window as we flew over water and islands to reach our destination.

During the flight, I had the strongest sense that I wanted to do something significant in Timor-Leste. Upon landing, I didn’t yet know what that might be. My original plan, when packing in Delhi, was to paint at the hotel while Stephen worked. And I brought with me more painting supplies than usual. But flying into Dili felt almost spiritual. And as it turns out I was not wrong.

From India, Stephen had searched online for a hotel in the capital city of Dili. He booked a room at the best hotel in the whole country. There was a pool, buffet breakfast, and room service available through the day and evening. The air conditioner in the room was effective. But there was no internet to speak of. If we were lucky, we could sign in, but would only stay connected for a minute or two. I wrote short notes to my family and friends letting them know I was okay but that I’d have to communicate more comprehensively once we left the country in a week.

Directly across the street from our hotel, was an open air restaurant facing out to the sea. They served a wide variety of food and drinks that were tasty, and we ate there every night but one.

I knew, before we left Delhi, that we would have a pool at our hotel. My plan was to swim every day. So, on Monday morning, after Stephen was picked up by his car, I went straight out to the pool to swim and paint. I made room in my luggage for lots of art supplies, including travel watercolor palettes and sketchbooks. Since we lived in Myanmar I have been interested in “urban sketching”. Urban sketching is like journaling, but in pictures you sketch and paint yourself. It captures your travels right in the moment in your own drawings and paintings. That was my plan for our week in Timor-Leste: paint what I saw of this brand new country. But on the 2^nd day, my plans changed in a dramatic direction that couldn’t have been more perfect had I been able to script my life like a movie.

I went out to the pool Tuesday morning, sketching tools in hand. My plan was to swim a little first before painting, but as I went to get in, I noticed another person already swimming. The day before I had the pool to myself. It was my understanding that the majority of guests at the hotel were on business trips and worked during the day, so I was surprised and puzzled to find another guest swimming. I said hello, which was itself out of the ordinary for me. I generally keep to myself and other people tend to do the same. But something made me engage. The woman responded fairly cheerfully back and suddenly we were swimming and chatting up a storm. Really like long lost sisters. I mentioned that I was an artist and that I was hoping to visit the international school during our time in the country. “Don’t go to the international school! Come to my school.” Her “school” was a university. Soon we wrapped up our conversation, but not before exchanging names and numbers with a promise to explore the idea of my coming to her university. She left to go home and I continued to swim a bit longer. What I learned from my fellow swim partner was that the hotel allows residents of the city the use the pool for a small fee. Tourism dollars are a little slim, so the hotel makes a little extra money and residents get to access a pool.

I took my time, enjoying the pool before going back to the room to shower. My hair was still wet from my shower when the hotel room phone rang. The receptionist said, “the woman you met at the pool wants to talk to you”. In the time between when she left the hotel and when she came back to the hotel to call me from the lobby, she had talked to her superior at the university and requested that I be invited to give an art workshop. I had shown her some of my artwork. She in turned had shared it with him. And suddenly we were talking seriously about a workshop. He gave the go-ahead and before I knew it, I was in Inna’s Ford pickup driving to the one shopping mall where she thought she might be able to find some art supplies!

I was hoping to find watercolor and thought I might quite easily. But much to my surprise and chagrin didn’t find so much as a kid’s Crayola type palette. What I found instead were some colored pencils and ~ astonishingly ~ soft pastels. I love to show people the magic of colored pencils, especially when so many people think of them only as a kids’ art supply. So, I opted for both colored pencils and pastels.

Once Inna and I had collected the art supplies I went straight back to the hotel to work on my sample drawings and quickly put a “workshop” together. I actually had my computer with me, which was another unique thing for me, so I had plenty of photo references to search through. Inna’s University has a religious affiliation so she requested I tailor my workshop to a religious-minded student body. I settled on nature, animals, birds, a seascape.

As is often the case with a teaching opportunity, I threw myself into the task of creating a workshop for college age students, something I’d never even attempted before. For reasons still a mystery to me, I was willing to try to teach art to college age students. In the past, I have shied away from high school and even junior high.

I guess it was Inna who decided I should teach at two different times. The first time-slot was in the evening so Inna picked me up from the hotel at dark and we drove to the University that was slightly up in the hills. As isn’t that unusual in low resource settings, the power had gone out. But not letting that stop us, we used phone lights to continue on. Problem-solving is the hallmark of living and working abroad in the particular countries that Stephen and I have most often found ourselves.

The camera flashlights added a touch of magic to the whole evening. Students showed up voluntarily for “an art workshop” with me, a foreigner visiting the country. I used my camera light directed at my face as I spoke so students could see me as I shared what I hoped to teach them about art. I spoke in English because we didn’t have a lot of advance notice about the trip and I only had a few language lessons ahead of time. Students were proficient in English to varying degrees. But much like music, art is a kind of language that transcends the spoken word and we got on fine. And at one point I encouraged the group to sing while they drew. It was a highlight of the trip! 

I had a hard time navigating the various steps through the university, (there was not a handrail in sight) but fortunately some of the young men were happy to lend their support.

The next day I was allowed another time-slot in which to give an art workshop. The director gave up some of his time with his class of students for me. It was a wholly different experience with a captive audience of mostly upper classmen. I am still surprised that I forged ahead undaunted. Keeping with colored pencils, I showed two pieces that I had drawn for the students to copy using my methods. I had run out of time and both pieces were still in the works. And upon reflection, there are many things I could have done and would do differently now knowing more about the workshop experience. At the end of our time, Inna miraculously appeared with fine grit sand paper (which I had requested at the last minute) and we had a fun play around with the soft pastels. The students all seemed to enjoy themselves more with the pastels and, were I to return, I would start the workshop with soft pastels and sand paper.

I left the university walking on a cloud. A dream fulfilled. I made plans with Inna to return for future art workshops. I even talked to a shopkeeper in India about buying watercolor supplies in bulk to take back with me to Timor-Leste. The country director of the WHO office in Timor-Leste loved Stephen and wanted him to return and do more work with them. So we had every intention of returning. Like so many things, those plans never panned out. But I will hold Timor-Leste in my heart always.

Let the healing begin!

Let the Healing begin!

I had my first infusion today. It turned out to be not so bad, even though I was quite nervous about the whole thing. 

So let me back up a bit.

As long time readers of this blog will likely remember, I was diagnosed with Lupus in 2009, just months before we made our first international move to Tugela Ferry, South Africa. (Link to my final post from Africa here.) It took about 2 years of symptoms before test results were conclusive enough to finally diagnose me with Lupus so I could start on a “disease modifying” drug, hydroxycholorquine. Two of those pills plus 5 naproxen and 1000mg of Tylenol a day was my daily regimen. Even so, it took 6months before I felt relief from pain (between 5-8 on the pain scale) and a year to completely get out of my Lupus “flare”. But then, I was virtually symptom free for a decade.

We did a lot in that decade: moved to South Africa, then Cambodia, then Myanmar, followed by Laos. In 2018, I started a graduate program in music at the University of Montana but then only completed a semester and instead took a music job in Butte, Montana. 

By 2018, I was starting to get some new symptoms. And in 2019, after MRIs of my brain and spine plus a spinal tap, I was diagnosed with Relapsing Remitting Multiple Sclerosis. MS for short.  

My neurologist prescribed a disease modifying drug. (Just like Lupus, MS is an autoimmune disease and there is no cure.) But the treatment was a daily or every other day shot. Anyone who knows me, knows how much I hate needles, so the prospect of a daily shot was just too much for me to stomach. And besides, my symptoms were relatively mild at that time. 

But over the course of the last 5 years things have gotten slowly worse, with the last year being much much worse. So at this point, I am in excruciating pain at different times of the day. Pain that shoots down my legs from my spine causing my knees to buckle and my rolling on the floor writhing in agony. My vision is terrible, which makes me very scared for the future of my art career. And I have no balance and cannot walk at all without the aid of a walker. 

At first I used the silver walkers with small wheels only on the front. But then my loving husband searched and found a company that makes these walkers with big wheels and brakes and it has made a world of difference in my mobility. 

But we’re really hoping this new medicine, prescribed by my new neurologist, makes an even bigger impact on my quality of life. My doctor says he’s seen really good results with this medicine and Stephen read the clinical trial results and they were very good. I had a training over Zoom with a registered nurse and he explained to me how the drug actually works. I won’t go into the details but to quote Matt Damon from The Martian, “they scienced the sh*t out of it”! 

It’s so super cool the advances in treatments available to MS patients now. Even a decade ago, there were not these options. The FDA only approved this drug in 2016.

So today December 13, Friday the 13th! I started on a new drug therapy. Medicine by infusion. As I said in the opening, I was very nervous about this. My understanding of “infusion” until today was really only informed by TV, like Dr. Helen’s cancer patients on New Amsterdam. I wasn’t keen on having to avert my eyes from other patients also receiving infusions.  On top of that, despite all the blood draws I’ve had over the years, I am not an easy case. It’s as painful for the nursing staff as it is for me. I have tiny little veins that invariably hide like Peeta in the Hunger Games. 😁

But the third nurse was the charm and we were off to the races. If horse races lasted 5hr 40mins. 🙃 I first received some premeds, a steroid and antihistamine, then the main event. To make sure I tolerate this new medication, I start with a half dose first. The 2nd half I get two weeks from now. And also to make sure I do okay with the medicine, the drip starts very slow, only increased incrementally as all goes well. 

I’m very happy to report that as of yet I have experienced no negative side effects. Woohoo!! Not only that, but my pain has decreased dramatically! I did several laps down our hotel hallways this evening with little to no pain. At this earlier stage, it may just mostly be from the steroid, but I’ll take it!

Merry Christmas everybody and Happy New Year! And here’s hoping that the next time I write about my health, I’ll be able to report lots of improvements!!

Dublin, Ireland for New Year’s 2024

 

To kick off 2024, we decided to travel out of India and ring in the new year in a first world country. Ireland was just the retreat we needed. Living in India has been more of a hardship than we expected.

All of our overseas moves have been to “hardship posts” but India has been unique among them. 

We planned our New Year’s holiday in Dublin a couple of months in advance. I researched hotels and we hoped to just relax, enjoy first world luxuries, and maybe take in a few sights. Our holidays are low-key now as India has been tough on my health, my autoimmune disease symptoms have flared up, and that limits how much we can do in a day. Our first taxi driver in Dublin heard that we were going to have eight days to spend and he was aghast that we were going to spend it all in Dublin. To his way of thinking, as a chauffeur to rich Americans during the high tourist season, with that much time, we could see at least half of Ireland, with a day trip to North Ireland as a bonus! He was a wealth of knowledge. Speaking at break-neck pace, he gave us several history lessons in the short taxi ride to our first hotel. I know some people who might really enjoy his kind of jam-packed schedule and plethora of Irish historical stories, so I asked for his card. Who knows. Maybe I’ll have a change in health in the near future and we can use the card ourselves.

Our trip began with a red-eye from Delhi to Zurich, Switzerland. It was my first time in Switzerland, even just the airport, so I was very excited. I did a project on Switzerland in the 7th grade for the annual Social Studies Fair. Visiting Switzerland has been on my bucket list for quite a while now! It was early morning and only one boulangerie (aka cafe) was open. We had a chocolate croissant and coffee and immediately felt better. 

First world living baby! I have been studying French in the hopes of needing to use it should Stephen transfer to Geneva with the WHO. But in Zurich, and most parts of Switzerland, they speak Swiss German. I’ve spent some time studying German too but for the moment, I have momentum in my French language studies, so I’m sticking with French for the time being.

It was a nice layover in Zurich and then a short flight to Dublin. Can I just say: Swiss pilots are amazing. We flew Swiss Air and each landing was as soft as I’ve ever experienced. Stephen and I have flown a lot; we’ve had our share of bumpy landings. The landing into Zurich was as smooth as butter. The flight service is second to none as well. 

But for the aircraft, (short seats and very little leg room) Swiss Air would be my top pick for international air travel. They do give you a small bar of Swiss chocolate at the end of each flight: that almost redeems the less than ideal seating situation. 

Getting our luggage in the Dublin airport was quick and painless. Since we were early and couldn’t check in for several hours at our hotel anyway, we sat down and had a coffee. Then catching a taxi was super easy. 

Our first hotel was called the Lombard above a pub by the same name. The pub was welcoming and warm. After notifying the staff that we had arrived, we were told that housekeeping would try to rush so we could check in earlier than 3pm. We ordered our first Guinness of the trip and settled in to enjoy the wait.

While we waited, several groups of people were already getting started on their New Year’s celebrations. They were incredibly loud! Generally, I prefer quiet and calm, but there was something just comfortable and homey about that Irish pub. I recorded a little of the festivities to help me remember that unique New Year’s experience. 

We were hoping to eat in our hotel pub for at least the first few meals as we adjusted to jet lag and got our bearings. But it turned out that the kitchen was closed until after we would have checked out. So Stephen found another pub just up the block which turned out to be so good we went there twice.

Pubs are not difficult to come by in Dublin. There are often several on any block you happen to be near. 

At dinner Stephen had another Guinness but I wanted some coffee. I wasn’t sure how to order just regular brewed coffee and as I stumbled to ask, our waitress said, “So an Americano with milk on the side?” I don’t know why but that she understood exactly what I wanted AND that the term “Americano” was such a regular drink, I exclaimed, “Yes! Exactly!” She smiled, amused by me. The language barrier in India, and all the countries we’ve visited in the region, has made me expect communication to be difficult. To be in an English speaking country after all this time in Asia was a most welcome surprise. I just felt so happy to be understood. And to get exactly what I ordered.

That was how we both felt for the first several days in Ireland: just so pleased that things were easy. Easy to talk to people, easy to find what we were looking for, easy to order in coffee shops and restaurants. We settled into our hotel early each night, the time difference between Delhi and Dublin is 6 1/2 hours, and I couldn’t have felt more content.

We had some shopping we wanted to do so that was the primary focus for the first few days. As I’ve mentioned before, it’s super difficult to find things in India. The products may be in Delhi somewhere, but we’ve found it’s just more work to try to search than it’s worth. So we wait to get most things we need when we are in a 1st world country. I had hoped to buy some new boots but only managed to find some good socks and a couple of really fun scarves. Stephen had more success and found a new winter coat and a lightweight jacket to wear indoors. 

Dublin was cold to us, though not snowy or icy. And Delhi has been more cold this year than last. So we need cold weather clothes. Seems crazy, when the summer temps hover over 100 degrees for months in Delhi.

Our second hotel was something I was super excited about. And we were not disappointed. ArtHaus Hotel is my kind of hotel. The decor was inspired by Kandinsky, a modern abstract artist whose colors I’ve always been drawn to. The teal/blue/green color palette of our room was calming and peaceful.

After checking into the ArtHaus Hotel we were ready to start seeing some of the sites. First up was St. Patrick’s Cathedral (of March 17 fame). 

It was a beautiful sunny day as we walked the short distance. When I was in college, I did a study tour in London, and it was then that I discovered my love of cathedrals. I find cathedrals to be peaceful both during services and off times. One of my favorite classes in undergrad was a course called Ancient Architecture. I remember very little of the content at this point, but I do remember how intentional the architects and builders were. Very often to accentuate natural light. 

One of the history lessons we got from our taxi driver was about this door: the Door of Reconciliation. Two warring clans were at an impasse, both wanted to stop the fighting but neither side trusted the other. So the leader of one of the clans cut an opening in the door of this cathedral (that they were holed up in) to show he meant what he said: he wanted to stop the fighting. The leader of the other clan saw that the first was willing to put his hand out to be cut off by a sword and admired the bravery and honor it took to take such a risk. The clan leader decided this man could be trusted. From this experience came the phrase "chance your arm".

St. Patrick’s Cathedral was founded in 1191, but has been renovated, with the current main structure built in 1824. The stained glass windows and interior architectural design are just so beautiful. Towards the end of our exploration of the cathedral I found a bronze rubbing station. 

I thoroughly enjoyed making two rubbings that I brought home as memorabilia. I donated some Euro toward supplies for the station so other visitors could enjoy making rubbings too.

On our list of places to visit was the Guinness Storehouse. 

The self-guided tour through the whole process of making Guinness was quite interesting. We watched a video at the beginning of the tour of a cooper building a cask that would later be used for the brewed Guinness. Each cask was made by hand and it was wild to see how each one came together. The skill of a cooper made me appreciate artisanship all the more. At the end of the tour we enjoyed burgers and Guinness and heard the end of the set of an Irish musician. I managed to record a few notes while Stephen was placing our order. 

Our evening concluded in a most magical way-with a carriage ride from the Storehouse back to our hotel. 

I had seen the carriages and heard the horseshoes on the pavement several times in the previous days so when I saw the carriage sitting at the exit of the Storehouse, I just knew that was how I wanted to return to the hotel. 

We did take a short train trip out of Dublin to the coast at Grey Stones. As luck would have it, the rain stopped and the sun came out. 

We love public transportation and try to use it whenever we can, wherever we are in the world. Ireland doesn’t have a huge population so maybe that accounts for the only mediocre trains. Not like Japan or Singapore, both densely populated countries. 

When we returned from our day out to the coast, Stephen tried to use a taxi app he had downloaded to his phone. He had done a little research and found that Uber is not allowed in Ireland, so he looked for a different service. We use Uber almost exclusively to get around in India. It’s quick and reliable. But we waited for 30 minutes in Dublin, when the driver finally just abandoned the job. I was watching as taxi after taxi drive by us, so at that point I decided to just hail one. It took less than two minutes for us to be driving toward the hotel. The driver took us right to the front door, where we could close the taxi door, turn around, and walk right into the ArtHaus. The next time we are in Dublin, I think we’ll skip the apps and just hail any taxis we might need.

I could have just stayed in Dublin, living at the ArtHaus, but all vacations must come to an end. Now that we’ve seen what Dublin is like, we want to explore the rest of Ireland. Definitely a trip for the future, maybe in the summertime.