Raf's Travel Diaries

I travel, I live my life, I enjoy every second of it. I believe a lifetime not enough for all the things I want to do, see & learn. I have many stories and no regrets. I dream in advance but make it up as I go along. Raf (with a hint of cinnamon).

She knows no one; walks in, timidly, knowing all eyes are on her. The foreigner, the newcomer; they can tell, they can see. She tries to look confident, goes over to a corner and leans on a stool. An excuse, that's all she needs. She doesn't smoke, she doesn't drink, but no one knows that. She scans the place and people, finds the leader, her target. She needs to give him courage, reassurance. She catches his eye and smiles shyly. He starts walking towards her. She relaxes and feels more comfortable, she knows it's easier from now on. She will soon be introduced to the rest of the group, re tell stories she's told hundreds of times, be surprised and laugh at new anecdotes and, at least for tonight, she will belong. Raf

Father and son. The pair walked side by side, steadily. They didn't stand out in Dublin's sunny late afternoon crowd. They looked at each other briefly, the kid shrugged, the man gave a slight nod of acknowledgement. They took a deep breath. Stoped. Sat down against the wall of a closed shop. -Any spare change, miss? Raf (resignation is a bitch).

I found a flat, just where I wanted it, at the price I was willing to pay. And it has a carrot/cheese grater! Raf (Saturday 6:59 am, dead tired, just got back from work, in need of sleep).

I'm looking for a flat, a new job, a cheap flight to London, a cheap flight to Åland (if such thing exists), friends that don't bail out, a carrot/cheese grater, a bit of sun, a free car ride to Donegal next week, amongst other things (like an umbrella that can hold up to Irelands weather & the code to unblock my cellphone); on the other side I have salt, a vodaphone sim card I can't use, a couple of good books, a family that loves and cares for me, who support my decisions even when they don't understand what the fuck I'm doing; & all 10 fingers & 10 toes. Raf (1:40 am, can't keep my eyes open anymore. No 4:00 am post today)

No se si fueron los dos mordiscones que le di al sandwich de bacon grasoso y salchicha 'deep fried' de Leo, o las papas fritas remojadas en aceite de 2 euros de McDonalds, pero me estoy arrepintiendo terriblemente de ambas ingestas. Raf (4:30 am del domingo)

Umbrella proof rain.

Nunca se les ocurrió poner bidets ? Raf (a las 4 am, cuestionando la higiene europea ).

Unos mates, un par de tostadas, Radio Bemba y yo recién levantada. Por un momento me creo nuevamente en Argentina. Entra mi flatmate alemana y me empieza a hablar en inglés, me corto la ilusión. Raf

The fog is thick, the cold air burns my cheeks. Birds sing shyly as day breaks. A faint siren can be heard in the distance. A few cabs, a couple of newspaper vans, a homeless in a sleeping bag on the walkway, a drunk sitting on the front stairs of a house, head between his hands, gathering strength to walk home. A gray-haired street cleaner in a yellow jacket greets me as I go by. I take a left off the main street and follow the road, no short cut through the housing plans at this time. I fish my keys from a pocket in my backpack and let myself in. The elevator is broken, the landlord says it'll be fixed by next week. I take the stairs. 1 floor, 2 floors, 3 floors, 4 floors. The main door makes a loud sound as I unlock it. I'm home. I'm tired. I'm full. I go to bed. Raf

St. Patrick's day is an annual feast day (March 17th) which celebrates Saint Patrick, one of the patron saints of Ireland. Ticking off one of the big parties in the world. 500.000 cheer St. Patrick's parade in Dublin En the Church, un borracho que realmente se creia que era un Leprechaun. Raf

I need to update my blog, I keep telling myself. But whenever I try to write something I just get distracted by MSN, some discussion in the forum, fb, jobsearching, or I simply don't know where to begin writing (like now). I get a few e-mails from people who are coming here, asking me stuff, but it's always the same: 'Is it easy to find a job?', ' How's Dublin?', 'Are people nice?' and that kind of incredibly vague questions which can only be answered in the same imprecise tone. I know many are just trying to establish some kind of link, connection, get some reassurance from the unknown before heading there. Truth is, at least as I see it, that everything is subjective. It depends. On your personality, luck, personal objectives, plans, expectations, capacity to adapt, to see alternative solutions to daily situations, tolerance, insistence, self initiative, people you meet, more luck, and many other factors. View of Dublin and the hills from my flat.