Irish Coffee… Sort of

I went to Dublin once. The morning after I got there, I stumbled out of my Airbnb. Surprisingly, I was not jetlagged, but I yeared for coffee.

With only a vague sense of where I was an a clear slate of a day ahead, I saw a portable sign that said “coffee” with an arrow. Like I had a choice!

But, you see, there was no obvious coffee shop around. All I was instructed to do was turn left. So I turned and walked. I walked past a couple cafes that had coffee but didn’t seem to be sign-putting-out types of places. So I carried on another block or three, losing hope with every stride.

Then, another sign. It demanded another left turn. I returned a joyous smile, still not convinced that I wasn’t being pranked. At this point, I was willing to walk to London. You know, if there was a bridge or something.

I turn a rounded corner after the sign and see another similar sign ahead. “coffee” it screamed. Another left turn, this time through a brick archway.

I walk into a lovely little garden with several cats and plants. Indeed there was a coffee stand. And it was on the left.

Maybe this proves that four turns in the same direction do actually take you to a different place than you started. Or maybe it proves that random adventures lurk all around. I think they do. So long as the voyager is willing to embark, that is.