This Might Not Be Just a Nostalgic Post After All.
Of all the countries I have lived in, Australia, Portugal, Switzerland, and Japan (ok, fine, Japan was only in my dreams and on a Pinterest board. Girl can dream, right?), Ireland is the one I only had for two years. Two years. And yet.
Full disclosure: I was there during Covid. Which means I technically lived in Ireland without experiencing Ireland, because Ireland was closed for most of it. I experienced the people, the walls of my apartment, the people, some very long walks, and the people. The people were the whole thing.
It felt like Harry Potter meets Bridgerton. And yes, I know neither of those is Irish. I know. But that is how it felt. Something ancient and dramatic and slightly magic and also very well dressed.
The food was great, the music was everywhere, and the views were, and I need you to understand I have been to many countries and seen many things, genuinely stunning. I have never experienced a sunrise or a sunset like an Irish one. The sky does something there that I cannot explain and have not seen replicated anywhere else. If you know me in person, I have probably already told you this. Possibly more than once. Possibly significantly more than once.
Can we stop and talk about the names?
Saoirse. Tadhg. Names that look like they were written by someone who had just discovered the alphabet. I love them all. Saoirse is one of my favourite names in any language, and I say this as someone who grew up in a country where names are generally spelled the way they sound, which Ireland has decided is a suggestion rather than a requirement.
If Emma had been born in Ireland, she might have had a different name entirely. I am not saying which one. But I think about it.
And the history. The history is so rich and so heavy and so present in the way that only places with real grief in their bones can be. Close to where I lived, there was a statue of people so thin they looked like they were made of shadow. The Famine Memorial. People starving and leaving and dying, the whole country emptying out in a few years. It is impossible to stand in front of it and not feel something shift.
Ireland does that. It makes things shift.
Parts of what I saw and felt there, and specifically some of what I learned about Irish history, have been finding their way into my first fiction project, called Marked. I am not ready to say which parts yet. But they are in there.
I will go back one day. Probably in winter, because I had the most fun on the shortest day of the year. 2/3 pm and it’s dark as night. I love the cold and despise the heat. I love the dark. And you put me inside gorgeous historical architecture on top of all of that, and I am having the best day.
If you have been to Ireland or lived there, I want to know. What cultural or historical moment got under your skin? What stayed with you after you left? Drop it in the comments below. I want to know.
Jessica Gabrielzyk
