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In a few hours I board a plane for Stockholm to begin a new chapter of my trip.

After 18 days in Ireland, I find it hard to leave. The people, the scenery, and the pubs have been more than outstanding. I will probably break my legs and my budget coming back here again real soon.

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I didn’t know if I should be angry or laugh my butt off.

One of my 7 new roomates at Sheila’s hostel, a large full facility hostel across the river, had just managed to somehow find his way home after 03:00am. I was sleeping in a top bunk near the door, so before he even entered the room, my spider-sense has gone off and I was awake as he was outside the door fumbling with his key card. It was a friday night and he had made good use of it by pounding his liver into submission with God knows what. He made made a half hearted effort to get undressed, which resulted in his pants around his knees (one shoe still on). then he belly flopped into the nearest bottom bunk, much to the surprise of the sleeping occupant. They argued for a while in what I think was Dutch, then the drunk bastard fell asleep in the floor. He was still lying there when I got up to pack my backpack in the cramped quarters this morning.

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My Cork days are growing short.

I have to leave this apartment by 13:00 today, and as of right now, I do not know where I am going next. My options are to roll into Waterford where I have a couple of friends that I have not been able to reach, and take my chances as I did in Cork (which almost put me sleeping in the bus station)…or pick another random destination from the BusEirann directory and take my chances with overpriced hostels. It is both a nervous but welcome feeling in the pit of my stomach, not knowing where I will sleep tonight or how I will get there.

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