Hello from Dublin! We just finished editing the first "Broadcast from Dublin", a short film montage of the past two days' adventures. It will be posted as soon as Zack gets back with his computer.
We dawdled in the morning, hoping for a knock at the door from an Aer Lingus driver holding Zack's bag. We had received a curt yet reassuring text message at 3am from Aer Lingus, saying "Beige bag has been found; being prepared for delivery tomorrow." We were itching to explore more of Dublin, but didn't want to leave the apartment to take the 10 minute bus ride into the City Centre, and potentially miss the bag drop-off. So I called the airline phone number, and Sherrie, our delightfully perky and nonapologetic Aer Lingus contact, told us that "though she couldn't promise exactly when the bag would be dropped off" she reassured us that the driver would call us 30 minutes before he arrived, giving us ample time to return to the house if we ventured off.
We were suspicious, of course, because Sherrie hadn't exactly been helpful yesterday (" I can't tell you where the bag is...no I can't promise it will be found...no it probably fell out of the car or something...no I'm not allowed to say...okay buhbyee!") but took the bus to the city regardless, and had a happy jaunt around the open air markets and shopping centers.
Around 12:45 we received a phone call. It was the driver, calling about the bag. "Oh, so you'll be here in 30 minutes?" Zack asks. "Nope," the driver says, " i'm here now. Where are you?"
Well, we were on a bridge across the River Liffey, nowhere near the cottage.
Sherrie, indeed, was unhelpful. To say the least.
Zack promised the driver we would be back at the cottage in 15 minutes. Again, all thanks to Zack's incredible sense of direction, we sprinted about a half mile through winding cobbled streets, spotting the bus we needed just a half block ahead. Sprinting into the bus lane we managed to beat the number 15 bus to the stop on Nassau Street, right next to Trinity College, hopped on, and made it back to Rathmines. All thanks to our natural athleticism, and of course, no thanks to Sherrie.