The Class of ‘78 Heads to the Emerald Isle!

I once read that friends are like four-leaf clovers: hard to find and lucky to have. For more than 50 years, I have been blessed to have two “four-leaf clovers” in my life and tomorrow, we are headed to Ireland together.

My friend Pat insists that we met in kindergarten. Truth be told, except for the classroom’s play rotary phone and our frequently grumpy teacher, I have few memories of that time, nearly 60 years ago.  The good news is that I do remember her just a few years later in fourth grade…or was it third?

My friend June, however, I do remember the exact moment I met her. We were beginning our first year in junior high school and we were both in the same homeroom.  As our young, somewhat dashing 70’s attired homeroom teacher (It was 1972, after all) required us to sit in alphabetical order. As June’s last name began with a “B and mine with a “C,” I sat right behind her. I am also absolutely certain that the three of us did graduate from high school together in 1978. 

During the decades to follow, time and circumstance have seen our friendships ebb and flow. For the last decade, however, we have become close again and among the thousands of topics we have discussed over these years, traveling together has been one of them. As we are all now retired, we have had several breakfast meetings, drinking far too much caffeine for three 60 somethings, to discuss where we would like to go, what we would like to see and how we would like to see it.  

After much deliberation, we decided to visit Ireland. Since this was the first visit to the Emerald Isle for Pat and June, we thought that the best way to see as much of the country as possible would be to take an organized tour.  Plus, no one was too keen about driving on the left side of the road. 

We also decided to go to Dublin a few days earlier to tour more of this impressive city and then venture out to the countryside to find Pat’s grandmother’s home located about an hour from Dublin. If the extensive—and not so successful-- research regarding finding a local car service/cab to help us pinpoint the location of this home is any indication, I am sure that that our adventures outside Dublin will be covered in a future blog.

While I have been to Ireland several times, this is a very different type of trip for me.  Over the last 15 years, my primary traveling partners have been my husband and my sister, two people—needless to say-- I know very well. My sister and I are good travel companions, probably because we can pretty much say anything we want to each otherand I am very good with a map. As far as my husband is concerned, he and I fall under the “for better or worse” clause and explanations regarding travel idiosyncrasies are no longer warranted, including why I wipe everything down with Lysol sheets when entering the plane or a hotel room or why I always check for bedbugs, even though I have never found one. (I am knocking on wood as I type.) In sum and in short, with both of my long-standing traveling partners, we have successfully developed a type of “travel shorthand.”  

As such shorthand did not exist between Pat, June and I prior to our trip planning, we had a lot to flesh out, which explains our large consumption of coffee during our planning meetings. First, as we are all in our 60’s, we had to have a conversation about any medical maladies that might hamper our time together—and we all have a few.  For me, it was my never-ending feet issues, which now extend to my ailing right knee and left shoulder.  I wish I can explain how I injured one or both of them, but as I described to Bob when he asked me how the injuries occurred, I replied, “I am still living, that’s how.”

Then we had to discuss what we needed to bring for a 10-day trip to Ireland. There are of course, the obvious things—umbrellas, raincoats and warm sweaters for at aminimum, the dampness and at a maximum, the gale force winds often experienced along the country’s western coast. A large portion of our clothing conversations—as usual—focused on the appropriate footwear to bring.  My foot doctor told me that along with my orthotic, I needed to wear Hoka sneakers for maximum support.  Pat had already planned to buy a new pair for the trip and I frankly thought that that issue was settled quite easily. 

 

Until I spoke to my daughter and daughter-in-law.  I told them that I was going out to buy Hokas so that I could wear them with jeans while on the trip.  They both gasped in horror—in unison. When I asked what the problem was, my daughter said, “Mom, wearing jeans with Hokas is fashion suicide!”  I told them both that we were not traveling through Milan or Pais and that the Irish—God bless them—were not known for their fine style of dress and that I thought that we would be fine….They were not buying it.

And then there were our sleeping/night issues. I would like to say that while I think I do not snore, I have been told by my husband…regularly, that I do. I knew that it was in the interest of our continued friendship beyond the trip that I spill the beans.  

And so I confessed.  The good news, I told them, is that I use “the Rain App” as religiously as I take Melatonin every night to help me fall asleep...another problem experienced with aging.

Our boarding passes are printed, I can still close my suitcase and tomorrow, my two “four leaf clovers” and I begin our well-planned and exciting adventure!  And by the way, the Hokas look lovely with my jeans…..