Auf Wiedersehen, my Heart.

Following Wednesday's exhibition, Thursday's de-mounting and pizza lunch and Friday's packing, we were all unceremoniously ejected from our home on Saturday morning. The majority departed at 5:15 am, and of course I roused myself for the painful farewells. It was not a pleasant experience. But I did have the chance to say goodbye to to Brian as he carried all my friends away from me.
Later in the morning (after enjoying about 10 minutes of sleep) the five of us remaining finished clearing up and assembling our luggage. Adam left first, jetting off to Paris. Audrey was meeting her mother. Emily's dad showed up and took her away. Then Robert collected Maren, myself and all our luggage and deposited us at John and Chloe's apartment before he, too, left us. Maren was to stay on with John and Chloe for a few days, spend time in Spain, and then return for a few more weeks in Ballyvaughan. I was only there overnight.
Maren and I took a long hike, saw some sheep, ate some banana bread, drank from a little stream. Atop the Burren hills it was windy and unsheltered, but only half of my tears were caused by the weather.
Later on we walked almost two miles into town and curled up in the best corner of O'Lochlainn's by the fire. Emily and her dad found us around 10 and we had a pleasant chat over pints and hot whisky.
The walk back was quiet and moonlit, and Maren and I just went to sleep as soon as we reached the apartment. I slept poorly but have no call to complain as I would have slept outside if not for my friends allowing me to stay.

Rocks.

Lambs.

My last photograph of the Burren.

My camera was completely out of batteries at this point, so I was unable to take any photographs of my last hours in Ballyvaughan. I dragged my 33 kilo suitcase the two miles into town. Halfway there we saw Lydia and Alyssa and were able to say goodbye. Maren saw me off in town and hurried back to meet Alyssa for a hike. I waited for an hour for the bus, watching the bustle of tourists coming and going. Ballyvaughan takes on a different personality entirely when flooded with non-locals. 

I sat with the cat and got a sunburn on my face.

The bus to Galway was emotional. I had to drag my suitcase through Galway again to reach my hostel, which was very pleasant and small. Wandered a bit. Inexplicably bumped into Chloe and her family. Knocked back Green Spot at Freeney's. Got a cheap dinner at Tesco. Listened to some music at the Spanish Arch. Had my last pint.

In the morning I got up at 6 am and dragged the beast down to the bus station, loaded myself on, sat next to a woman who thought my body was her elbow rest, unloaded at Shannon, and got the nasty business of check-in completed (my suitcase was overweight so into the rubbish with the old slippers and ginger nuts). U.S. pre-clearance was quick and easy, and means I can enjoy a stress-free landing in Boston without the hassle of customs. I stuffed as many Yorkies into my bag as possible. 

And now here I sit, outside gate 109 waiting for this metal bird to take me away from my home.