Out of Practice

Apparently traveling on one's own is a skill that requires some practice, and I'm a bit rusty after a year. Just one hour after touching down in Dublin I went to put down a deposit on a locker key in my hostel only to realize I did not have my wallet on me. I had quite a lot of cash in a back-up wallet, but no bank cards or ID, or the 100 Euro that was in the wallet. The only place I'd had my wallet out was to pay for the 16C bus from Dublin Airport. I was exhausted, wet, and had my hands full with luggage when I paid the fare, and truth be told I didn't recall ever putting the wallet back into my purse. But a seasoned traveler doesn't panic. A seasoned traveler is resourceful. I spoke with the ladies at the hostel front desk and they connected me to Bus Eireann who connected me to Dublin Bus who transferred me to Summerhill Garage on Mount Joy Square. "What color is the wallet?" said the man on the other end of the phone in a thick Dublin accent. "Red." "What on earth were you tinkin'?" he laughed.

I followed his typically Irish directions. Walk to the top of O'Connell, right down Parnell, left up Gardiner St until you see a pub called Hill 16. Follow the laneway up past the pub into the garage. It sounded sketchy. But sure enough, there was an office full of uniformed and friendly transit folk. "I've come to collect my wallet," I said.

"Oh its you, is it!" said the man from the phone. He turned to his colleagues. "Little Red Riding Hood's come to collect her little red wallet!" He opened the wallet and looked at the ID to verify I was the owner. "Wisconsin, eh?" he said, attempting an American accent. It sounded far more Boston than Midwest but my smile was massive. "Thanks a million," I said.

"You're a lucky lucky girl."