Making Do

It seemed like a pretty simple thing: take the bus from the airport to our hotel in Dublin.  As it turned out, not so much, because the carefully researched and printed directions failed to mention that there was not exactly a bus stop named Santry Avenue.  There was a Santry Close, but that was not the right stop, it took four buses and one bus driver who finally had pity on a couple of Americans and told us where to get off (in the nicest sense of the word).  We finally got to our hotel, a Travelodge, which is the UK equivalent of a Super 8 or a Motel 6, easily the lowest point of our accommodations during the trip.
As it turns out, Ballymun, the area where we are staying in Dublin, is not exactly the center of the action, or even spitting distance from the action.  After driving from Cork, visiting Blarney Castle en route and navigating our way around Dublin to drop off the rental car, we were more or less happy to just crash into our room, except for the fact that coffee and a chocolate muffin at Blarney was about the entire extent of our nutritional intake for the day, so we needed food.  It was either another bus, or get a pizza across the street.  We took the pizza option.
Fortunately there was also a grocery store, so we got pizza to go and a bottle of red wine (screw cap of course).  As it turns out, this is not a bad plan.  While it may not exactly be the best dining experience of our trip, it certainly isn't the worst meal I've ever had.  Not only that, but the pizza was buy one get one free (they do that in Ireland too).  The wine was actually a pretty nice Chilean red blend (Michele and I are both fans of red blends).
The hotel has an airport shuttle, which de-stresses our departure.  The bus to the center of Dublin runs pretty much directly from our hotel to the middle of the action (and back), so we're planning to hit the Book of Kells early in the AM and spend pretty much the whole day as vagrants in Dublin, which is sort of like re-enacting Ulysses (from what I've heard, I've never really managed to make it through that whole book).
Travel can be hard, but as I learned on the Camino, "sooner or later it will be evening."  Not knowing where you're going, or how you are going to get there is a trying experience.  In hindsight, that was actually one of the blessings of the Camino, you could always walk.  Trains, planes and buses tend to make things more complicated and stressful, but at the end of the day, you find some food (and hopefully also wine) and you rest up for another day.
Peace and good night, or as the Irish say, "safe home."