Ireland II: Rocky Road to Dublin

I stopped for a bit in the bus station before starting my search for a place to stay.  A man clad in nothing but denim, with a shaved head, and spiderweb tattoo on his face stared angrily at me.  I was 21, had never been away from New England on my own, knew nobody in Dublin, and was getting the evil eye from a stranger who knew I wasn’t from around these parts.  I decided to move on.

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