Saturday, January 7^th, 2023. 11:30am.

The train stops and the ginger head girl, sitting across me stops drawing. During all that time she was creating by pencil a girl’s portrait. She was nearly ignoring the view from the window and the landscapes passing by and she was devoting all of her attention to her drawing. On the other hand, I was allowing myself to get lost in the countless green, home of hundreds of sheep and cows, taking – at the same time- quick glances at her. She was such a local! Her red- ginger hair, her blue eyes and the freckles around her nose were making her the definition of my new country: Ireland.

Yes, that’s where life brings me now. It wasn’t my choice. It could be fate’s or destiny’s, but surely not mine. I had never planned to come here. It happened. After all these job applications that I sent all around Europe, I got accepted here. And that’s how I got to know Galway, Ballinrobe, even Cong. Places that I would never have known if I hadn’t -somehow- have to know them. If they weren’t written in the script of my own life.

She now puts her pencil and her notebook in her bag, stands up and heads towards the exit of the train station. She walks like she knows by heart every inch of it and eventually she gets lost within the crowd. Now it’s our time to stand up. Certainly, less confident and a bit lost, we take our three suitcases -left at the luggage area- and we step out of the train carriage, looking hesitantly for the exit.  We exit. And we leave the train station behind.

The wind is strong and cold. The temperature is definitely lower that Dublin’s and at least 15 degrees below Greece’s. The sky is white and the raindrops are thin, small, almost invisible. We are at one of the city’s most central squares. We walk through it and we decide to walk by the big sidewalk with the shops and pubs. The sounds of the ravens and seagulls of Atlantic get blended with the voice of the street artist on our left and the gentle babble of local’s conversations mixes up everything perfectly.

And I am wondering: was that fatalistic my acquaintance with Galway? And who is creating life’s journey? I don’t know and actually it’s not possible for me to know. But I can have an opinion on that. From my point of view, our actions create movement in our lives and that movement brings to the table a number of choices, the algorithm of which consists of different elements. Some of them are coming from our own actions and others are random, uncontrollable elements that- however- complete its combination flawlessly. Then it’s up to us to choose action or stability. And choosing action, we have to determine its shape and form.

The drizzle turns into heavy rain and then into storm. My overthinking stops. We put on our hoodies and we enter the first coffee shop in our way. We order a coffee and a hot chocolate and we take a seat on the top floor, on the wooden table next to the window. Sweet are the moments in a familiar environment. Well, it´s an undiscovered place but an acquainted way of life.  Now we are heading to the unknow. We do know that we are going to live in a village, but its name as well as its population remain a mystery. We are also clueless about our new home. How would that be? Will we like it? Will it feel like… home?

It’s 3pm. I grab my phone and I call the person who will help us move in.

-That’s the address. Call me again 10 minutes before you arrive. I will be waiting for you.

We exit the coffee shop and we call a taxi. The location that he gave us is a 45-minute driving distance and about 42 km from Gallway city. It should be somewhere in the village.

The taxi arrives. We step in. And the journey to the unknow begins.

To be continued,

Fedra Mour