My mediocre attempt at a pun combines the two most recent places I took a day trip to, while also paying homage to the holiday that took place a week ago. With the second month of rent paid, I can officially say I’ve been here a month, I’ve settled into this foreign land which is turning more familiar. My routine is in its infancy, as for the last month and a half I have been so far away from any consistency with my days. I now have a schedule with places to report to and there is something comforting about that.
Even in this place far away from home where Thanksgiving isn’t a national holiday because, well, there weren’t pilgrims and Native Americans roughly 300 years ago sharing the plentiful harvest, I managed to celebrate. I found myself on the evening of Thanksgiving at a friend of a friend of a friend’s house who is now my friend. The random dishes with wild flavors and textures were made, consumed, and were surrounded with lively conversation.
The following evening, the meal was a bit more tame, with a traditional turkey, roast vegetable, stuffing and I made my favorite potato dish with gruyere cheese and leeks. The company was with my housemates and their nephew/cousin. So as I am used to having two thanksgivings as a product of a divorced family, that tradition continued even across an ocean.
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. The day is all about family, food, and gratitude – three of my absolute favorite things. I adore both my related an unrelated family. They are the unwavering supports in my life, and I am certainly certain that I am where I am today entirely because of them. I am also quite certain that I would not be where I am without food.
Gratitude. Having an appreciation for objects, situations and more in your life. Happiness research shows that regularly articulating appreciation for things, people, situations and 
more in your life increases your life satisfaction – happiness. I keep a list of things I am grateful for – red terra-cotta, green chili, mornings in solitude, Irish tea with milk, Dublin Bus wifi, cake for breakfast, scenic bus rides, WhatsApp, tip money, and dreary fall days – are a few from the past few months. Having these lists simultaneously transports me back to the details of my life and provides me with substantive data of reasons to be grateful to be sucking air. More specifically, reasons to be existing in on this part of the planet, where each day is an entirely new adventure.
Howth is about a 30-minute commuter train to the north and Bray the same distance to the south. The amount of time it takes to journey there is roughly the same as my commute on the 15B, but the places are quite different than my quaint house in Rathfarnham. Bray and Howth, the sweet suburbs of Dublin sit on the coast, where the fresh sea breeze wafts 
through the air. The unique character of each town is informed by the geologic surroundings. Quaint storefronts line the street and seafood is celebrated.
I went to Howth because it was a beautiful sunny day and I was off work. Upon my arrival, I wandered around the town until I found my way up a hill to the beginning of a hike. The trail hugged an outlet, which boasted stunning Cliffs and an expansive sea laying before hikers. Trekking along the trail without a companion encouraged my mind to wander. It’s on walks like these that one can sort through an array of topics internally. I found myself reach a sort of prayer, expressing gratitude to any entity listening for the miraculous people, and experiences I am blessed with.
To accomplish just a small portion of the bureaucratic nonsense of moving to a new country 
for a year, I set up an appointment in Bray to get a PPSN number (the equivalent of a social security card). After an unnecessarily stressful hour waiting outside to get inside and providing a lovely social services worker with all the relevant documents, I rewarded myself with a beautifully-crafted cortado. Post scribbling in a myriad of notebooks, I embarked into the brisk November air. Before me was brilliant deep blue water met with sand and well-loved weathered stones. My feet brought me along the coast, up a hill, and around a bend until I decided it was time to return back to my abode.
This impending month doesn’t seem to offer much in grand travel adventures, though I look forward to finding the adventure amidst routine. By putting on my black classy uniform, strapping on a walking-change-apparatus and tablet for orders to serve locals and travelers at the historic Bewleys on Grafton this street this holiday season, I aim to immerse myself in the Irish Christmas spirit. Thankfully there is still the opportunity to seize the day, meet people and ponder why the hell I am here.
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