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Outta here

Living

Diary of a home bird
Ciara Galvin

I’ve given in. The endless job hunting, the weather, the NCT failures, the falling into muddy holes, well they’ve finally taken their toll, and the daydreams about far-flung destinations, warmer climes and sandy beaches have won out. So, I’m outta here.
‘And where to?’, you might ask. Well, as you read this I should hopefully be exploring all that Rio de Janeiro has to offer. At time of writing, however, I’m in the middle of printing itineraries, scanning documents and wondering how to pack smartly for a three- to four-month sojourn in South America. But as this paper goes to print, I’ll be boarding a flight from Lisbon to Rio.
That’s right folks, I’m spreading my wings, flying the roomies’ coop and hitting the backpacking trail. After nearly three months of ruminating on my future, I couldn’t pass up a once-in-a-lifetime chance to experience Christ the Redeemer at sunrise, salsa dance in Buenos Aires and star gaze over the salt flats of Bolivia.
It’s something I had been thinking about for a while, and when my friend Rachel said she had booked flights, I adopted a ‘carpe diem’ approach and followed suit.
Breaking the news to my besotted three-year-old niece proved simple. My sister texted me from their holiday in Portugal to say that when my little godchild Saran misheard her parents talking about plans to visit the Portuguese town of Tavira, she’d seized on the opportunity to let her know I’d be missing for a while. Saran had picked up on the conversation and turned to her mother in a ‘matter of a fact’ manner and said ‘I have an auntie Ciara’. At the mention of my name, Saran was told all about how ‘Auntie Ciara’ is going on a ‘big holiday’.
Breaking the news to the roomies proved more challenging. The female roomie had me sussed from the get go. Clocking that I was spending a lot of time in the man cave on the laptop, she knew something was up. I’m still not sure whether her emotional response was down to thoughts of not having her daughter around for a few months or the realisation that I won’t be around to cook my signature meatballs on a Thursday. Either way, Pops bursting through the door asking me to find the remote for the DVD player couldn’t have happened at a better time.
His desperate need to watch the final episode of Line of Duty meant he remained oblivious both to the announcement and the tears being shed by myself and the Madre.
The family at last informed, the past couple of weeks have been full of tying up loose ends. Among them was getting Black Beauty through the NCT on the third attempt. (It was then crashed into four days later. Murphy’s Law.) I also had to get a host of vaccinations that cost more than my actual flight to Rio. A good deal of time had to spent annoying the roomies before I headed off too.
Fingers crossed that it’s an exciting adventure full of more ups than downs. I’ll be keeping ye all up to date with my whereabouts as I continue with the Diary. And don’t worry, the roomies will still get a mention here and there, as I assume they’ll still need my assistance in finding remotes and accessing Netflix from over 5,000 miles away.

In her fortnightly Diary of a Home Bird column, Ciara Galvin reveals the trials and tribulations of a twenty-something year old still living with her parents.

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