After a couple of weeks pretty much alone in the house with Puck, spending much of her time alternating between shoveling snow outside and vacuuming cat hair inside, Nancy was excited to get on her way to Ireland this morning.
|Lough Atalia, as seen from our hotel window|
During her five-hour layover in New York, Nancy was annoyed to learn that JFK Airport does not offer free WiFi service, so she was glad she had loaded plenty of reading material onto her Kindle. The Bishop’s Wife by Mette Ivie Harrison—a novel about a Mormon woman who indulges her penchant for sleuthing when a member of her ward mysteriously disappears—held Nancy’s attention almost as well as Gone Girl had last year. (The two books share some similar plot points, but Gone Girl won’t tell you anything about LDS theology.)
The flight from New York to Dublin wasn’t much longer than the layover at JFK. The tarmac was wet with recent rain when the plane pulled up to the jet bridge early Thursday morning, but shafts of bright sunshine were pushing through the inky clouds. Nancy didn’t have to wait long to claim her baggage, and then was surprised that no one even looked at it, once her passport was stamped. Following the explicit instructions Michael had sent on where buy a bus ticket, which bus to take, and where to catch it, Nancy was able to board an express to Galway just minutes before it left the airport.
|A stone wall near Galway's bus station|
|A typical window|
Although it was past lunchtime when Nancy arrived in Galway, she had had two meals on the plane and was much less hungry than tired. Nancy went directly to the Radisson Blu Hotel, which was easy to find because the bus had driven right past it about thirty seconds before pulling into the Galway station. She picked up a key, found the third-floor room where Michael had been staying, snapped a picture of shimmering Lough Atalia from the window, then hid the view behind heavy curtains and fell asleep.
Michael's additional comments for the day:
I have to admit that what I am about to write may be a bit sappy. But it surprised me so much that I have to suck up my pride and admit that it really did happen to me.
About 3:00 this afternoon, I started getting a little antsy at work. By 4:00 I was out the door and on the bus on my way back to the hotel. Why? Because I knew that Nancy would be there when I returned--or at least I hoped she would be, if all had gone according to plan. She was supposed to arrive in Dublin this morning, then get herself to Galway on a bus. I had arranged with the the front desk at the hotel to give her an extra key when she arrived so she could get into the room and take a nap.
And I was almost as giddy as a madly-in-love 22 year old anxious to see his fiancee. Okay, I will admit that I missed her and was glad she was going to be able to share the rest of this trip with me.