I'm on a bus between Limerick and Tralee, which is really one of several between Athlone and Dingle.

Written 30/7/08

Before I left, I was told that my grandmother will pray for me every day while I'm gone, and that she knows that I am capable.

And every day thus far, there has been a moment where things seemed rather close to going wrong. Nothing devastating or dangerous, mind. As I keep reminding myself, the worst case scenario is that I have to take a nice walk in Ireland until I've sorted things or rearranged my plans a bit. (Oh no. Not that.) Thus far these adventures in getting from one place to another feel more like extremely rewarding little puzzles than frustrations. But every day there is a moment where I didn't know how to get where I have to go, or where it seemed that a bus I needed would be missed, or didn't exist at all. And every time I've guessed, made a turn on a whim, and found the house for which I was looking right there in front of me. I find the station in less time that it would have taken me to get there had I known where I was going, and somehow manage to climb onto the bus at the very last possible moment. Serendipity. I've always been good for that, but not half this often. I thank my grandmother for it every time.