11 April, 2014

Howth is a small seaside suburb of Dublin. For me, it was the last stop on a first trip to Europe. On a windy winter weekday, the town was rather quiet save for the crashing waves breaking over the seawall. Some were brave enough to walk the border like a tightrope. As far as I could tell, no one was washed away.

I experienced Howth aimlessly, sticking to the coastline and being sporadically startled by oversized, rusty chains clanking against the fishing boats. Lunch was indulgent with three courses, a glass of wine and a shot of irish cream courtesy of the bartender. Outside of lunch, I hardly spoke a word. Instead, my seaside time was spent in silent meditation over the immense trip now behind me.


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