| . |
| . |
![]() |
| FINAL DAYS IN IRELAND |
| Ireland: "Final Thoughts" |
| Josh Ritter Fansite Homepage |
| . |
| THE MORNING AFTER...UGH... |
| FINALLY, A FEW LAST THOUGHTS... |
![]() |
| The memorable late-night gathering after the Cork show really turned into "early morning." I remember two things about going up to my room to go to sleep: 1.) It was somewhere around 5:30 a.m. 2.) I was left a note from Erin, Emily, and Flora that said, "Doug, we don't have to leave until 11:00, so sleep in!" "Sleep in". Riiiiiiiight..... |
| The next thing I remember will pretty much be the ONLY thing I remember from the first half of Sunday. I'm still unsure if this was a dream or not, but I can recall my phone ringing, fumbling for the receiver, and hearing Erin sing me a quick little song, something to the effect of "Do-ug, timetogo, timetogo, timetogo..." I'm not sure. It was 10 minutes to eleven. We had to get Erin to the airport in Dublin so she could fly to Paris for her next show. I think I threw everything in my room into my bag, ran through the shower, and got down to the lobby to meet the gals. Next hour or so is foggy. I DO remember one thing: at some point during the car ride back to Dublin, I realize that I am utterly and ridiculously.....BOMBED still. This made the first third of the trip a blast - easiest hour on the road I ever did; time flew. Second third of the car ride was less fun. Final stretch into Dublin was pure hangover. Not fun. But my recollections from the previous night and the entire trip up to that point has me feeling NO pain. I was probably smiling like an idiot in the back seat for more than three hours. |
| My cognitive abilities barely returned in time to say goodbye to Erin at the airport. We talked her into trying to stay one more night with us in Dublin, but the next morning's flight was totally booked. So off she would go. As she dealt with the airline about her flight, however, I found out the hard way that my cognitive abilities actually hadn't returned: the police outside the terminal were very anxious to ticket us, so I ran in to see how Erin was doing. She and I then returned to the car to get her luggage, and I led us right through an emergency exit. The large red signs that said "EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY" and "ALARM WILL SOUND" and "NO EXIT" didn't exactly compute with me. Looking back, I realize that Erin had stopped right before reaching the door, noticing the warnings. I didn't, and pushed through. Alarms echoed through the airport, I casually pulled them shut and made pretend that nothing was happening, and Erin dropped her head and led me out of there. An Irishman had a little fun with me walking out, saying "They want to talk to you! Hey, mate, they're coming - they want you to stop" etc....Erin just kept saying "He's messing with you, c'mon..." I was looking around like an idiot. |
| SAYING GOODBYE TO ERIN... |
| We said "goodbye" to Erin. I was sad to see her go. Not only did I admire her as a wonderful singer/songwriter, but - even though we had just met several days earlier - she was such a big part of my unforgettable time in Ireland. She's amazing. |
| I had grand illusions before my trip that my last night would be a great night out on the town, bidding farewell to this country in riotous fashion. Instead, it was spent in my hotel room, "resting." I couldn't even rally myself to join Emily and Flora for some shopping and dinner. We had returned the rental car and they had checked themselves into the same hotel as me. When I was done "resting," I popped out on my own for a little dinner, and a final stroll through Dublin. Walking the streets of Dublin and taking in the people and sites was how I started this trip, and was now how I would end it. I was happy, though, when Emily and Flora called me later that night to meet them in the hotel's "library bar" for one final pint. The next morning, we got a taxi over to the airport, did some last-minute gift shopping, and boarded the plane. I was depressed about leaving Ireland, thrilled with how the trip had gone, and tired from planning and executing it. But I don't think I've stopped smiling since I left Ireland.... |
| FINAL NIGHT, MORNING IN IRELAND... |
| . |
![]() |