the loggia...
As the plane bound for Dublin, departed the urban hustle of Belgium´s capital, she attempted to draw herself to sleep but failed. For several times whenever her eyes close, the thoughts awaken her like a bee buzzing at the side ofan ear.
Arriving in Dublin made her realized more-- that her hope of finding quietness was far beyond from happening.
For one reason, the hostel was within the city center. Moreover, the bustling sound of the city made her distressingly
longed for the tranquility in the gallery.
Though they had plans of exploring the surrounding areas together after settling in, she decided to separate
ways and discover the city on her own—but promised to come back on time to join them for a night-out. Equipped
with her backpack (link) and a handy map of Dublin, she started heading towards the National Gallery.
She walked gaily and observed the Irish urban way of life until reachingher desired destination.
As expected, there was a long queue but she patiently waited for her turn just like the other people ahead of
her. She loved the feeling of standing in line and being like one of them – an avid patron of the arts. It took her
almost the whole day to see the vast collection. She practiced her expertise in a very low profiled manner as she
went through each works of art. The thoughts bothering her earlier were gone like a canvass thickly covered of
oil paints. Her restless body was again energized like a painter wanting to draw endlessly. But it was time!
The sky was already splashed with red, orange and blue violet when she walked out of the gallery and passed
by St. Stephen´s Green. The church bells were already signaling the time for the Angelus at St. Patrick´s
Cathedral. With a warm smile painted on her face, she directed herself towards the hostel and walked blissfully...
Indeed, she was fully satisfied.
« IV »
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