Dublin, Day 3 (Part One)

Thankfully it was. (Worth it, I mean).

The third and final full day of our Dublin trip was not only not spent in Dublin, but we didn't even stay in the Republic of Ireland.

At the crack of dawn (read: 7:15am), we were sat on a Paddywagon coach waiting for our driver Lee to set off. Lee was completely different to Gavin. He was a 23/24 year old graduate who liked to tell us all about tax/Ireland's economy while also telling us old legends and detailed account of Ireland's history. He was funny, sweet and more willing to help than anyone should be at that time in the morning (although I am grateful he was).

Our first proper stop (not including the service station where we witnessed the worst parking ever) was the Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge. The walk to the bridge, even with the fog, was stunning. I couldn't believe how blue the water was (when I plucked up the courage to look down at it).

Before we left the coach, Lee had assured me that the rope bridge was not difficult to cross, even for people with fears of heights. Now I just want to say: until that day, I liked to say I wasn't afraid of heights, I was afraid of falling. While that's still true (the idea of falling - not actually hitting the ground, but the awareness of the fall - is terrifying to me), I have to say that I am just flat out scared of heights as well. But I believed Lee. People had told him! It was fine! Might as well!

Lee is a liar.

Crossing that bridge was the most terrifying thing I have done all year, possibly even all my life. I was rude to Sophie out of fear and it took every ounce of self-control to make myself put one foot in front of the other to get across.

IMAGINE HOW I FELT WHEN I REALISED I HAD TO WALK BACK OVER STRAIGHT AWAY.

I actually told the guy manning the bridge that I was just going to have to live there. However the lack of everything materialistic that I love, and the fact that the only house on the island was basically hovering over the sea, meant that I queued up to walk back over.

It was not easier the second time. It was just as scary, just as difficult and I was still struggling to process how scared I actually was. I think someone tried to shake the bridge as I was walking and I'm almost certain I threatened to throw them off...

I am glad I did it though. I can say I crossed over and I can also firmly say that I will never ever do it ever again. Twice was definitely enough for me!

I can't explain how happy I was to get back on that coach 20 minutes later. Poor Lee looked so guilty when we told him how much I had hated it (good).

We drove away from the death bridge (good riddance) and made our way to Giant's Causeway. I'll save that for another post though, I think I need a lie down...