It’s hardly 6:30 a.m. I’m sitting at the airport in a fog, a 16 oz. coffee and an untouched bagel stacked with my bag, waiting to board the plane with me. It’s early, but I’m always up early, so that’s not so much of a shock. What is shocking is why I’m sitting at the airport today. Less than a week ago, I received an email inviting me to visit Ireland over St. Patrick’s Day.
Over St. Patrick’s Day.
That’s like visiting New Orleans during Mardi Gras or Rio during Carnaval. It is travel edition of the saying “go big or go home.”
If you look at the logistics of it all, the trip is kind of ridiculous. I’m spending nearly 24 hours (time shifts included) to get to Dublin. I’ll have three full days to indulge in St. Patty’s Day fun (and scheduled media events), fighting through a bit of jet lag I’m sure, before I hop back on a plane and head home. It’s not the ideal situation for traveling, and if it had been any other destination, I might have said no.
BUT THIS IS IRELAND.
And Ireland is one of those places that I’ve always wanted to visit, so three days or three weeks, it would have taken a catastrophic event to make me say no to this opportunity.
I’ve been thinking about that saying regarding how the journey is just as meaningful as the destination. In this case, I think the journey to get to Ireland is random and downright funny. I’ve had no time to read up on Dublin or even exchange American dollars into Euro. There’s nothing romantic about the journey; it was a down-and-dirty, rushed packing job and a frantic rush to move around appointments and interviews that were scheduled for the few work days that I’ll be gone.
But this is Ireland. And this Sunday is St. Patrick’s Day. And I’m going to be there. (Side note: When I came through security, the TSA agent asked if I was going on vacation, as the vast majority of people leaving Las Vegas don’t carry Nevada identification. When I told him I was going to Dublin for St. Patrick’s Day, even he was impressed, so now I officially feel validated in my excitement.)
Crazed and hurried, haphazard and random. However I get there and whatever happens during my short trip, I’m convinced the luck o’ the Irish is on my side so that even for three brief days I can say I’ve visited one of my dream destinations.
Photo by remedy19.