Reflections regarding Friday August 2, 2024 in Dublin, Ireland
I should have known from the start that Dublin wasn’t going to go as planned. Way back in January, I booked us an accommodation. Feeling very proud of myself, I was devastated when a month later that Airbnb host had to cancel due to required construction. For the next twelve hours I was glued to the Airbnb app waiting for something much more affordable to show up. I thought it was a sign when I saw this other property pop up for much cheaper.
Fast forward to the eve of August 1st after our glorious outing at the Giant’s Causeway. That night, I made sure to check the information for our Dublin Airbnb. Subconsciously, I had been wondering why I hadn’t received check in details from the owner yet. After messaging our supposed host to request more information, I took a look at the reviews and realized that all of them were written after I had booked our stay back in February. Every single review suggested or straight out wrote that the place was a scam. Immediately, I called Airbnb to inform them of the situation, cancel our reservation, and get a refund. After much back and forth on the phone and via chat, I was told we would have to wait until the next day to get our money back.
Grateful for the immediate assistance and frustrated by the required patience, Chaim and I started looking for another place to stay. It was a bank holiday in Dublin, which meant there were absolutely no properties available that could accommodate us for anywhere near affordable. Chaim found a hotel. We needed a place to stay and didn’t have time to research the neighborhood. Deciding to focus on packing up and getting to Dublin, we said goodbye to our amazing hosts Dorothea and Don, and the boys’ new favorite cat, Rosey (sorry Uncle Ilan.) At some point during the hubbub of leaving, I received a message that we would receive our full refund. Things were looking up.
The car ride back was fairly straight forward, except for the last 20 minutes when Shai had to poop and pee. LIKE REALLY BADLY. Chaim dropped us off at the entrance of the rental car offices and we dashed inside just in the nick of time. Then, every other boy needed the toilet. After what felt like an hour for what usually takes five minutes to return a car, we boarded the shuttle back to the airport where we were going to take a bus into the city. Getting to the airport was easy. Figuring out how to get to our bus was mindboggling. We ended up walking in loops only to realize ten minutes later that we had to enter the airport to cross the street through the skybridge. Inside the airport we walked in a few more loops before figuring out how to get to the skybridge. Finally, we arrived at the bus stop when, you guessed it, someone realized they had to go to the bathroom again. Chaim took Shai back into the airport. They returned just in time to get on the bus.
The bus ride into Dublin was straightforward. That is, until Chaim realized we were on the wrong bus and that the closest stop was a 30-minute walk to our new hotel. As we disembarked, the groans from our children were deafening, and completely warranted. We stopped inside the train station we were near and bought some much needed snacks and drinks, and, of course, to use the toilet. About twenty minutes later we lugged our bags through the narrow and somewhat dubious looking streets. But I didn’t have time to think about what we were walking through at that moment. The backpacks were too heavy for all of the boys to carry their bags that far. I was wearing four backpacks, including my own, and dragging two of our carry-ons. All I was thinking during the walk was, “I can do this. Yeah, it’s totally fine. I’ve got this. Holy mother of *@#%&* where is that *@$#%& hotel?!” Finally, thirty glorious minutes later we were at our new hotel, much later than expected and with far less time to decompress and get ready for Shabbat.
My goal for that afternoon was to write. Nothing had been posted to our website and I knew it was important to get it going. Instead of focusing on getting the boys ready for Shabbat, I told Chaim I had to write. It was a compulsion that took over me as if I was going to lose my job (just to be clear, I do not get paid for writing my blog posts, though it would be lovely if I did.) Chaim took care of getting the boys ready while I wrote our first post. With minutes to spare before Shabbat started, Chaim got it up on the website. Then, we quickly wrote down our directions to the Chabad house that we were supposed to be joining for Friday night dinner and left the hotel.
Dinner at Chabad was going to be a lifeline. The boys had not had enough protein for the whole week and I was worrying especially about Matanel’s weight. For those who don’t know, Matanel is still tiny. He was born at 2.04lbs at 32.2 weeks and is growing steadily; yet, he has absolutely no body fat on him or extra pound to spare. (To paint this picture a little better: His twin, who was born at 3.5lbs, on average, consistently weighs about 10-12lbs more than him now.) I had been talking to the boys all week about how they would be able to eat whatever they wanted on Shabbat because we would be eating at Chabad.
Well, we never made it. We got completely lost and walked around for about two hours before making it back to the hotel. We had asked for help three different times and received three very different directions. As it turns out, we were a mere three blocks away when one of our kind “helpers” told us to turn around. We were all starving and the boys were exhausted.
As we tried making our way to the Chabad house, Chaim and I began to notice our surroundings more. We realized very quickly that we stood out. Walking with my children in a neighborhood with bars lining the streets during the day is not my preference. Walking in a neighborhood with bars lining the streets on a Friday night is terrible. In addition to feeling completely out of place, we had to steer our children around several people who were already drunkenly yelling and attempting to walk but failing miserably to do so.
By the time we finally found our hotel, it was 10:30PM, pitch dark, and I was the most on edge I had ever felt, ready for everything and anything to happen. My mama bear was raging like crazy, and it took me many moments to calm it down back at the hotel and overcome my frustration at the situation. One thing that helped me calm down was acknowledging how well the boys did under the circumstances. They were real troopers and couldn’t really understand why Chaim and I were on edge. This was an important life lesson that we had to explain very, very carefully.
Once inside, we looked at our meager food options and began handing out fruit, leftover cereal, trail mix, and crackers. I discovered two unopened cans of chickpeas and beans, tore them open, and tried to get my children to eat them. No one wanted them. To be fair, the beans tasted terrible. The chickpeas were flavorless, but fine with a little seasoning. I threw in some raisins just for good measure and ate the can. Somehow, there was just enough food to fill everyone’s belly.
Chaim and I made two agreements. 1) We would try to avoid traveling on Fridays as much as possible in the future so that we could adequately prepare for Shabbat. 2) Even though we do not use electricity or technology on Shabbat, we would always carry a phone with us lest we end up in what we felt was an unsafe situation like this one. Hopeful that the next day would be a better day, we went to sleep.
