It all began with a rather painful goodbye at Hamburg Airport, a pretty calm flight over the North and the Irish Sea, and a hard landing in Dublin (– not figuratively spoken: Nobody clapped. Not even the Polish passengers, who usually do, at least on Wizzair flights from Poland.)

I’m staying at Waterloo House, a truly superb four-star Bed & Breakfast in south Dublin city. A kind taxi driver took pity on me and my bike at the airport and took me on his van. But before being able to actually cycle left-sided, I had to find a bike shop where they would re-adjust the handle bars – of course, I would have done that myself, but a strict lady at the airport security check took my Allen key (a.k.a. Inbus-Schlüssel, yep, another one I learned these days!) from me, “due to the fact that this is a tool, and a tool aboard would be a security thread.” – Sure, whatever.

Long story short, after two hours of seeking, I finally found a bike shop that does repairs, and those guys helped me out in the wink of an eye. So, now it’s a guy from the cycling capital of Germany destablizing Dublin. (Although I can say, cycling left-sided isn’t much harder than driving the car. Maybe a little more dangerous. For me.)

As for the city – it hasn’t changed much since my last visit, only do I realize that those five consecutive days of good weather in May must have been absolutely exceptional. I’m going to buy an umbrella very soon.

Oh, and I’ve already made some friends here, as one of my next posts might show…

Oh boy, what an immense effort to get two bicycles transported from one German city to another! Deutsche Bahn courier services offer a subsidized rate with Hermes Logistics – 25 Euros per bike, not including the packaging (”only 5,90 Euros, for a limited time only!”). Aer Lingus charges another 30 Euros for the transport via plane. Ugh. But I really need a bike in those forthcoming first days of living in Dublin, so I can take a look at all the rooms and apartments available on the market.

And another question that bothers me: How on earth will I span the distance between the airport and my temporary accomodation with a packed bike and a heavy case in both hands and a bag around my neck? I guess a cab might be the easiest solution, though I have to admit that I’m usually too avaricious for that.

But at least, I’ve already made contact to some people in Ireland who are looking for new roommates in the surrounding areas of my new place of work. The first appointments are made, and I’m very anxious to see if the offered (”double”) rooms really qualify for a monthly rate between 500 and 1000 Euros…

Notably, my contact with this international relocation specialist – let’s call them “I.” here – assured me the team would visit me in the afternoon, and call at least one hour before they arrived.

Well – reality hit me, when shortly after 8 this morning the bell rang and one (!) relocation guy stood at the door. Luckily, I spent some time preparing most of my stuff yesterday, otherwise this encounter would have been even more awkward. But I have to admit, he was a professional (”I’ve been in this business for 20 years now!”), and packed all of my material existance in boxes in less than one hour. Not bad.

But of course, my former plan were crossed as my bike which was to be repaired before being moved to Dublin wasn’t ready yet this morning. So I have to think about either leaving it in Germany or taking it on the plane by myself. 30 Euros for the transfer with Aer Lingus sound fair to me, though.

Now my room is very empty, as I said, and already shows signs of this objectionable reverb when speaking out loudly. Tomorrow, I’ll disassemble the furniture I’m leaving at my dad’s home, and then this place will look as if I never had lived here. Strange feeling.

I’m counting the hours to leave Münster.