Weeks have passed. The damp winter turning into damp spring and blossoming into a landscape of damp summer.
I am reminded of the fact that I have moved to Ireland daily, the clouds of unsettled weather pouring grey rain onto the unsettled Irish future, for recession is kicking at its hardest.

Job hunting has been the rule for months, whilst my personal bank account drains and the once plentiful savings become more and more scarce.

I have moved houses, from cold sofas in the dingy pockets of Smithfield, across the River Liffey to the heart of working-class suburbia in Kimmage. I have found comfort in the gym and swimming pool two streets away, a distraction from a rather hard fresh start in the North Atlantic.

 

The pick up point reads ‘Friends of the Elderly’. Forty pensioners slowly board the white coach and the streets of North Dublin are left behind the Southbound motorway out of the city. The ladies flirt through thick sunglasses, their cheeky smiles drawn against wrinkly faces. I introduce myself as the ‘tour guide for the day’. Awkwardly refreshing.
My first job in Ireland had to be tourism-related. Hired as a tour guide, I jump from coach to coach, almost lyrically explaining the history and happenings of a yet unknown land to me. Fairy tales around Mullingar are said, history classes around Belvedere House are briefly enjoyed and river cruises on the Shannon are taken in Athlone. At times surprised by my own improvisation abilities, I enjoy the brand new job not because of its nature, but because after months of struggling, it comes as a breath of fresh air.

Life in Ireland slowly picks up pace.
Long gone are the days of moulding on the couch, the daily walks through bleak Little Britain street, bunch of CVs in hand, for yet another day of job hunting in the city centre.
They have now been replaced by afternoons of tea and scones, long walks through the greenery of Herbert Park and my new favourite places in the city: Bewleys on Grafton Street, the heights of Killiney Hill and the lush grounds of University College Dublin.

 

Summer takes a turn for the exciting at Marlay Park. My bones tremble at the echo of  ‘Boulevard of Broken Dreams’. Green Day is in the house and, for a change, I have a good feeling about being in the right place.