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The journey began on the first day of the New Year. We dragged our under-packed luggage, various passports, wads of papers with hostel directions, and massive hangovers to Geneva airport to board a plane for the cheapest flight on that day: Belfast, Ireland.

After what seemed like years of airport struggles, Scott, Alanah, Lucas, and I found our way to our hostel in Belfast in the dark, while Ireland welcomed us with a light drizzle and arctic winds.

The city itself has troubles between Catholics and Protestants, a struggle that makes the town seem darker than it actually is. We took a “Black Taxi” Tour where a man who’s Irish accent was so thick, everything he said just seemed more real.

Naturally, we had to have a night in an Irish Pub. There was live music and normal people dancing Irish folk dances–it was a great Irish experience.

But my favorite story about our trip to Ireland was almost leaving Scott at the Giants’ Causeway.

In a country where fairies are thieves, leprechauns can be found at the end of the millions of rainbows, and giants made a land bridge to Scotland, we took a bus trip to the very green part of Northern Ireland, saw Carrickfergus castle and hiked the Giants Causeway, and returned to the bus in the evening exhausted. The bus started its engine and started going out when suddenly we realized Scott was not on the bus…the goblins took him!

A few minutes after we told the driver to stop the bus, our adventurous friend came running from the wrong direction of the pathway, soaked in ocean water to the knees. We didn’t ask. He didn’t tell.

Scott’s sense of adventure is so inspiring and admirable. Maybe to the point he did see goblins and fairies…