The Hangover meets Road Trip

Hangovers and bus tours do not go well together.

Last night you consumed an exorbitant amount of alcohol, stayed up too late, and barely slept in a boiling hot hostel room surrounded by 7 other snoring people in bunk beds. Headache, nausea, and lack of sleep. How ’bout some bright sunshine with that headache? Hot bumpy bus ride for your nausea, and long periods of walking and standing for your lack of sleep??

ImageOr so I imagine a hungover bus tour to be like. I was only hungover for about twenty minutes Sunday morning, until I consumed several pieces of magical toast.

Even if you manage to evade the hangover though, your downfall will ultimately be the lack of sleep. Outside of the bus in the sun you are able to push away the drowsiness with unbelievable scenery of constant greens and inspiring historical buildings. Our group started out slow and grumbling, but soon we gained momentum as the day passed and the beautiful sights began to multiply.

ImageWe merrily jaunted along! Skipped… Spiritedly strolled…

We dragged our bodies forward.

At least we were moving.

We were functioning. We were people.

ImageBut back on the bus we were transformed into infants; babies in the back seat of a car, being lulled to sleep by their parents driving around the block.

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Our heads titled at strange angles, mouths gaped open, necks scrunched into the walls of the bus.

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ImageWe were zombies. Trapped in a world of delirium, somewhere in between the sleeping and the awake.

Sometimes we would only be on the bus for a short bit of time, just traveling from one stop to the next. Yet even in those short times, we would still succumb under the weight of sleep.

ImageUsually, I am the one who stays awake on these tours. I am the silent observer of all things green; the dutiful counter of the many, many sheep and cows we pass. But on Sunday, I was no different than than the others. I too was helpless under the bus’s spell. I would jolt awake at the sudden stopping of the bus and wonder at what point I had fallen asleep, hating the growing pain in my crooked neck. The tour guide would come over the speaker with interesting facts about the surroundings and I would struggle to open my eyes and pay attention, only to loose that endeavor as well.

Image(Ok so I still counted the cows & sheep but that probably wasn’t helping me stay awake…)

Only the fresh air and urgency to keep up with fellow passengers would rustle us from our stupor. We were filled with amazement as we struggled to accept the idyllic reality that we found ourselves in. We were walking through and fully experiencing Ireland’s finest; it was a trip of a lifetime. Perfect. The tour comes to an end and we are satisfied and humbled by all we have seen. It was time to return to Dublin, to our small apartments and unpaid internships, yet the trip has given us so much to take back and to ponder on the way home.

Yet back on the warm bus you are vulnerable; as you gaze longingly at the fading scenery, reminiscing your trip, sleep attacks again! And no amount of beautiful scenery or new-found wonderment with the world will keep you from the inevitable: zombie purgatory.

Cue the snores.

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(Big thanks to Pusheen ^ for helping me illustrate my story properly. )

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