Unwelcome Back
19 07 2007‘It’s easier to leave than to be left behind’ sang R.E.M. and I guess this is true but neither is at all easy. No matter how many times I go through it I’ll never get used to the pain I feel when I have to wave goodbye to my mother in the airport as a tear falls down her face. The next few days back are always difficult as I find myself torn between homesickness and happy to be back in my Dutch home. I do feel a step closer to returning to Ireland. If this is a tiny wee step or a gigantic leap I’m not sure yet. Who knows if/when the process will really develop though. Knowing me it will be a completely impulsive decision with no time to digest the situation or alternatively I’ll stay here another ten years.
Going through the post when I got back I noticed a very strange looking postcard from the police. Far from welcoming me back they were. We had put our rubbish out the day we left for holiday, which was one day before rubbish collection day. This didn’t go down well it seems and the postcard was informing me how terribly uncouth this was and how I could expect another letter and fine in the post shortly. How the hell did they know it was my rubbish? Do they know about my hummus addiction and see all the empty containers? A Dutch friend informed me that they actually go through the rubbish looking for clues. What else did they find in there, I’m mortified at the thought of them looking disapprovingly at all the empty chocolate bar wrappers and convenience food packaging. Then I remembered that they search through rubbish for a living and felt a little smug. I have a sneaky suspicion however that our neighbours ratted on us. I’m giving them all evil looks when I pass by, just in case.
Anyways not exactly the welcome home party you would hope for. An abrupt reminder that I’m forced to live in the real world no matter how hard I fight against it. Time to plan the next holiday I think.
Eh, privacy laws, anyone?
It it makes you feel any better (and by better, I mean worse) they don’t go through rubbish here in Ireland…
Just sayin. It may help bring an Irish boy home sooner than 10 years time.
Welcome home young man. Enjoy the silence and being able to leave things all over the place.
I enjoyed your photos and wanted to be in kerry as I looked at them.
Thanks for sharing your holiday.
alan - hmmmm and there’s also the fact that wheelie bins have yet to be introduced here. people just use plastic bags - ever so old fashioned. Perhaps it’s because of the lack of space
grannymar - thanks, oh and I have been enjoying leaving things all over the place - how did you know hehehe
home again, home again…and here we are thinking about moving…
Wheelie bins do exist in NL. They are a plague in suburbs.
Oh, I almost forgot: *HUG*
They only go through the rubbish in Belfast to check you’ve put it in the right recycling bin. If you haven’t you’ll get a bollocking and they might leave your bin unemptied, but they won’t fine you or such. Luckily nobody ransacks my rubbish for signs of non-vegetarian produce or Dolly Parton albums. Also we can put our bins out as early as we like, no probs. The Netherlands cops seem to be rather petty - shouldn’t they be out nabbing burglars and muggers?
Sad having to part from your mum. Luckily she’s still young enough for you not be worried about her. My mum in England is 85 so I’m always afraid something awful will happen to her and I’ll be 350 miles away and not much help.
I know exactly how you feel - I go through exactly the same thing every time I come back as well. I suffer a week or two of homesickness where I miss my family and friends like mad, but then I settle back in and remember why I went away in the first place…
I got home to discover that someone had left my bin out and brought it back in. The swine’s…..
I ask you, what sort of world are we living in, oh the humanity of it all….
Saying goodbye is never easy, my waiter in Madrid had tears running his face too, LMM said it was sweat, I know differently….
Saying goodbye sucks. I generally disappear as fast as possible to avoid too much emotion.
Saying goodbye to my parents is kinda ok, because they’re used to their little globetrotter… I’ve been all over Europe since I was 14
Saying goodbye is bad, saying goodbye in an airport is worse but saying goodbye to someone you love in an airport is heart-breaking. I find it’s best to say goodbye close to the ladies loo, then I can duck in there and have a good old sob, reapply the slap and put on the dark glasses in a bit of privacy.
*hugs* for your poor ole Mum x
A fine? What, no warning? You can’t leave garbage sitting around during the summer. How rude.
my husband’s irish and it’s a good crack and all visiting, but the downside is the 300,000 euros you have to pay for a leaky cottage. I think you’ll be in the Netherlands for a while until the house prizes become reasonable in Ireland, no?
Saying your goodbyes at the airport is always a hearbreaker.As often as I’ve done it it’s never gotten easier and the last time (March 2006) was especially bad.
It’s always the same when I come home.No matter how happy I am to be back with friends and family (well….we can delete the family bit for my September trip) it’s overshadowed a bit by the knowledge that you’ll leaving soon.Life back home has gone on without you and at the end of the day you’re just another returned Yank/Brit/Canuck/Kiwi/Aussie/Whatever different from the other tourists only by having an Irish passport.It’s a hard reality check when you realise you’re a foreigner in your own home town.None of that matters when your two weeks are up and the tears are streaming down your face as you pass through passport control in Shannon.No matter that you have built decent life in your adopted home.No matter that you left in the first place to make something of your life.No matter that there was nothing to stay in Ireland for at that time.No matter that there still isn’t.It’s inexplicable really.
I used to think that the worst part was not being able to account for all the tears and heartbreak but that’s not it.The worst part is having to leave.
I predict some stoic sniffles from me in September.
savannah - hehe dreadful isn’t it
hidh - Why do the suburbs get all the joy? The hug makes up for it though
Nick - I’m shcoked that you would even suggest that someone might through away a HRH Parton CD
Caro - that’s exactly how it goes. I think I’ll book another trip soon though just to help thinsg on…
manuel - I don’t know how you can continue living there actually. I think we need to hear the spaniards version of things
lenfercest - I’m all for quick goodbyes too, the quicker the better
ellie - you’re such a sweetie
medbh - yes well I will be writing to them asking what exactly was my alternative seeing as my neighbours are lunatic drug addicts (at least that’s how they act)
emma - how dare you use sense and reality on me (reaches for the bombay sapphire)
HQ - wonderfully put. When we were on the Blaskets I couldn’t help think of all the people who left to the states in the past knowing full well they’d never have the means to return even for a visit. No telephone calls either and many couldn’t even write. When you left that was often the last that would be heard of you and families didn’t even know if you got to America safely. Heartbreaking stuff. At least things are easier for us these days.
I don’t know about the Netherlands, but a bottle of Bombay Sapphire costs 11 euros in Italy. It costs about 30 euros in Ireland. You’ve cheered me up.*
But seriously, at least we live in Europe and home is just a couple of hours away. One of my friends lives in New Zealand and hardly ever gets back.
*with apologies for taking the usual trivial alcoholic low road on an emotional subject
What… were you supposed to bring your rubbish with you? Leave it in the house to attract armies of rats? I don’t get it…
Nice of them to write you a postcard though… how civilized
sugar, i cry when i pick up people at the airport, when they leave, when i’m on my way out of town, when i leave where i’ve been…i think it’s just airports..the buildings make you cry
(we have a little g’bye trick in our family…when we’re parting the line is always, “i’ll see you tomorrow!” somehow just saying that makes you smile and if nothing else, holds back the tears for a moment)
( not that it always works…just typing that made me tear up)
Christ, I think I’ve cried my way through half these postings.
I’m never going home again, I’ll probably flood the airport if I do.
Oh Savannah *******hugs******** Reading it made me gulp back a sob.
Caro - Even Bailey’s is ten euro cheaper here than in Ireland - what’s that all about, it’s Irish for heaven’s sake
K8 - it was sweet of them wasn’t it? About as sweet as my letter will be to them I should imagine
savannah - that’s so sweet, and sad - look what you’ve done to Ellie and Jovica
Caro and Con - a survey this week said alcohol is more expensive in Ireland than anywhere else in Europe. Presumably because it’s such a captive market and people will pay whatever it takes to get wrecked.
Well there’s something to be proud of indeed