It was Sunday, February 18th of 2018, the day students of the Erasmus+ group in our school, Maria Amália Vaz de Carvalho, left for Adamstown, Ireland. The flight that would take us to Amsterdam and then Dublin departed at five in the morning – we met at the Lisbon Airport at 2AM –and I believe that none of us did actually sleep that night/early morning. We were too excited for that.
The arrival in Amsterdam was a happy one: we had a few hours of chatting trying to predict what the next week would have for us, we saw the sunrise from a window at 39.000 feet of altitude and of course, we froze our noses when we finally left that plane, due to the cold, cold temperatures. Inside Schipol’s Airport, we had the usual sleepy hustle and bustle: six teens and three teachers roaming around, trying to find the correct boarding gate, taking their IDs here and there and trying to keep the group together in enormous queues.
It was close to noon when our feet finally touched the inside of the plane that was going to take us to Dublin. There was also no such thing as falling asleep during that flight taking into account we were deadly tired: we were too eager to arrive Dublin Airport.
After roughly an hour and a half – perhaps one of the seemingly longest one of our lives – we landed softly at the so desired airport. However, it definitely wasn’t the end of our trip yet. We then caught a minibus which finally took us to Finnstown Castle Hotel, where we would be meeting our hosts at last.
When we arrived, an Irish teacher asked us our names, one by one, and then we were separated for the rest of the day: with our hearts pounding and our stomachs eager for lunch and jumping with anxiety for the afternoon, side by side with the people whom we were going to spend the next week of our lives with.