As the title might imply, this is sadly my last post from Northern Ireland. I had a lovely visit and I'm already plotting ways to get back. I missed a lot of the more notable attractions (like the Giant's Causeway), but Northern Ireland was never a tourist destination for me but rather the place I had to go to see Thomas. I'm sure I'll get around to popular sites at some point, but for now I'm quite thrilled at all the castles, ruins, and beautiful woods I was able to explore. It's interesting how your priorities shift at different points in time--just like traveling. I remember my first times abroad as a teenager and young adult, trying to say yes to every opportunity and repeating the mantra "you can rest when you're dead" in order to drag myself out of bed in the early mornings and ignoring blisters or sunburn because there's another mountain to hike to see a shrine or cathedral or something historic and beautiful. And everything was beautiful, just to be outside of my apartment or host family's house and walking down unfamiliar streets and stopping in unfamiliar bakeries to try food I couldn't recognize--I got a thrill riding subways and trains and even took a ride from a stranger once. There's something about being somewhere new and watching it pass in front of your eyes from a moving vehicle that is completely magical; yes you want to stop and walk around and see up close some of the interesting places you are passing, but there's a bit of magic of seeing the world through a window's frame and knowing that everyone beside you is seeing the same thing but not feeling the same way about it. I really do love traveling. Of course, the current laziness/slow pace in exploring Northern Ireland is probably grounded in a security I never felt when I was younger, the idea that I'll be here again...
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