Keep Dreaming
Dream enough dreams and eventually one of them will fall off the bookshelf of forgotten dreams onto your lap.
Two rows of white canopies lined the street, selling everything you could think of as far as the eye could see, which wasn’t far because visibility was obstructed by the teams of people walking in and out of the canopies, acting as if everyone else was merely an obstacle in their way.
Back then, I thought this was a place that would make anyone drown, but we all suffered inwardly while outwardly collectively agreeing it was fun. Fun to see new things. Things I’d never seen before. Never knew could exist. Well, maybe it was fun for the people who had money to buy the odds and ends. Instead, I was left to pretend. It was just an act, and it felt hollow. A hollowness that maybe could have been slightly and temporarily filled via shopping therapy. I wanted to leave, but I wouldn’t allow myself to know this because it felt weak. It felt wrong.
So instead, I was drawn to a quiet, majestic library tucked safely within the frames of the picture. Unreachable.
“Where is this?” I asked the photographer standing off to the side.
“Trinity College in Dublin, Ireland,” he said, pointing to the picture’s description.
Oh. Far away. Too far. But… maybe someday. If I just remembered. I looked up at the many no-picture signs.
“I’m just going to take a picture of the description. I’ll leave the actual picture out of it.” His reaction made me feel stupid for clarifying. Maybe I should have just written the location down. But I had hundreds of notes scattered throughout half-finished notebooks and spare pieces of paper. They got lost. Thrown away. Were hard to track down. Certainly wouldn’t survive to reappear for future me. But a picture… A picture gets buried, but (if not deleted) it remains.
But how to get there? Maybe if I were a photographer, I could travel the world and take beautiful pictures.
“How did you take this picture?” I asked him.
“Had to get a license. Went early in the morning when there were no people.” He wasn’t going to waste any more words on me. He knew I wasn’t going to buy anything. It was fine. I already knew a world-traveling photographer was looking like an unlikely career path for me. Too many upfront costs.
So, I put Trinity College back on the shelf in my mind, labeled “Someday,” where it would be surrounded by other magical places I’d found on Pinterest or Instagram, many of them forgotten. Later, as I scoured the shelves of “Someday” looking for Trinity College, I was surprised to come across Peleș Castle, a bucket list item I’d forgotten was on my bucket list. A less surprising find was the too large, prominent book titled, “You can become an extroverted, outgoing, fun person with just enough willpower.” Time to move that one to the “Discarded Ideas” shelf.
Trinity College, Dublin, Ireland
Peleș Castle, Romania
It Happened Quite by Accident
I wasn’t supposed to go to Dublin, Ireland. The goal was Scotland. Actually, the main goal was to see my friend. Scotland was an aside. A checkbox. I was in Europe, and therefore I was supposed to be seeing Europe. Check.
But how to get to Scotland? Turns out, Scotland is about as far away from Greece as you can get while still being in Europe. The flight prices were shocking. They were a far cry from the voices singing in my head, “Traveling in Europe is so cheap!” Despite all evidence to the contrary, I continued to listen to those voices and kept using that Skyscanner website until I found a round-trip flight clocking in at 120 euros. What a deal. Just one major caveat. My itinerary was going to look like this:
Saturday, April 12. 5:30 a.m. Flight leaves Thessaloniki, Greece, for Dublin, Ireland.
This four-hour flight cost 20 euros, which was ironically cheaper than the 15-minute taxi ride to the airport. Also, “Cheaper than fish and chips” according to my Dublin tour guide. I thought it was an odd saying, as they all are. But he was right. Fish and chips would cost me closer to 25 to 30 euros.
Sunday, April 13. 8:00 a.m. Flight leaves Dublin, Ireland, for Edinburgh, Scotland.
Saturday, April 19. 8:00 p.m. Flight leaves Edinburgh, Scotland, for Poznan, Poland.
Easter Sunday, April 20. 6:00 p.m. Flight leaves Poznan, Poland, for Thessaloniki, Greece.
Easy. Not a problem. No travel anxiety at all.
What’s there to do in Dublin?
A crucial question since I had a day to waste in Dublin, Ireland.
My research unearthed Trinity College’s Library. I’d almost forgotten. This was my chance to complete my long-lost dream.
Trinity College: The Library
And so there I was. I’d made it. Sure, waking up at 3:00 a.m. and taking a four-hour plane ride left me sleep-deprived and exhausted. But that meant it was real. It meant I had worked for it.
Maybe someday, and someday soon, people can go anywhere in the world with a click of a button, and it will feel real. Like the Atlas in Cloud Cuckoo Land. But that takes less effort, inherently diminishing the perceived value of the experience. And without actually being there, you can’t access the energy of the space.
The Atlas in Cloud Cuckoo Land: The Atlas allows the user to walk anywhere in the world using a virtual reality headset and a 360 treadmill. But the user can’t touch anything and not all locations are accessible. Like a higher quality, virtual reality version of Google Maps.
The energy was solemn. Almost spiritual. I was enchanted. First, I absorbed the energy. Then I tried to notice and memorize every detail. This might be the one and only time I’d be there. How could I tear myself away from that?
In time, it loses its magic, releasing me back into the world where stronger forces pull me toward rest, food, drink, sleep, flights, and life.
Long time no see,
Laura-Anne
So too have I drempt of visiting that library . Thank you for taking me there .
Keep your notes. You'll be surprised the journeys they will take you on when you read them years from now. I didn't take notes. But even today, something else will nudge a memory to the surface. Then the waters flow.
I think I told you a while back that once I was a fountain of knowledge. Now, that fountain has turned into a well, complete with bucket and rope.
Keep writing.