The Cold Plunge: A Day Trip to Howth

The Irony of being Address-Less

Two weeks after arriving in Ireland, I mustered the energy to start the arduous process of applying for three things: a bank account, a Resident Card, and a Personal Public Service Number (PPSN). They all required proof of address as identification and to send mail correspondence to. I had just arrived on a working holiday and was staying in temporary accommodation, so I had no mail whatsoever with my name on it, especially not a utility bill. I needed the PPSN for tax purposes but had to provide proof of a job offer from an employer in my application. While the initial application for the PPSN could be made online, I had to wait for an in-person appointment where I would receive the number on a printed letter.

Besides the life admin, I was also trying to figure out my next steps and future accommodation. I had considered heading to Bantry for the West Cork Literary Festival, and to Clare to visit Melly, an Irish lady I had come into contact with through a friend of my dad’s back home in Australia. My stay at Trinity College was coming to an end, and I returned to Binary Hub student accommodation for another week. I was offered a temporary customer service job in Galway, and made plans to head to Galway at the end of the month.

As it turned out, the date for my PPSN appointment was set for my first day of work. I called and asked if I could attend the appointment in Galway instead, but was advised I would have to return to the office in the district I had applied, almost three hours’ train ride back to Dublin. Because of my work commitment, my appointment would have to be rescheduled, and so my request was resubmitted back into the system, back into oblivion. I would have to return to Dublin twice more over the next month, for my PPSN appointment, and to collect my PPSN and Resident Cards from Binary Hub. Although I wasn’t staying there anymore, they had kindly kept my mail.

I was told by the bank I could use the letter I would receive at my PPSN appointment as proof of address to open an account. When I went to apply for the account, I was told it was a different letter that was required, with a different symbol on the letterhead.

I was so dazed and tired and anxious upon my arrival in Ireland, and knew these would be arduous processes, so had delayed starting them for two weeks. I later wished I had started as soon as I arrived in Ireland, so that I would receive all the mail before leaving Dublin. I hadn’t anticipated how much these various departments and organisations would rely on snail mail throughout the application processes for sending vital communication and documentation.

My First Day Trip

By the end of my second week in Dublin I desperately needed to escape the city. Although I loved my little studio apartment at Binary Hub, I needed to get away from my desk and my computer. On Saturday afternoon I caught the DART to the seaside town of Howth. The summer holidays had just begun in Ireland, and the train was packed with people who’d had the same idea as me.

With its scenic harbour, beaches and wildflower-covered sea cliffs, Howth feels like the kind of village you’d find on the West Coast of Ireland rather than a 25-minute train ride from the Dublin city centre.

Walking along the pier, I spotted the resident seals poking their heads up between the docked boats, waiting for a treat from the nearby seafood restaurants.

I made my way along the waterfront, where a busker sang ‘Back Home in Derry’, a rebel song by Bobby Sands.

The road to the start of the Howth cliff walk took me past several old cottages, including a former residence of W.B. Yeats.

Walking along the winding path, I marvelled at the dramatic coastline and green cliffside plunging into the ocean below.

The sun was shining, and I even removed my jacket, which would be a rare occurrence for me, even in the summertime!

I reached the lighthouse and sat for awhile, soaking in the sun and admiring the spectacular views. This was the Ireland I had come back to experience.

I followed a different path on my way back, diverting away from the cliff edge through the village.

I returned to the city in the evening mentally and emotionally refreshed. My challenges still awaited me there, but I was as ready as I could be to face them again in the week ahead.

I hope you’re enjoying coming along with me on The Cold Plunge. If you would like to help me along on this adventure, consider donating below. There are preset amounts, or you can customise an amount too. Whatever you choose, your contribution is deeply appreciated.