And indeed, I could have easily ended up in Spain where I lived as a student and loved it! Although neither in Santiago de Compostela, where I spent 3 months working with the Pilgrim’s Office, nor in Salamanca where I studied for 6 months, was it all that warm. Both cities had a great vibe. They are full of history, magnificent buildings and were perfect for enjoying the delicious Spanish food and Tapas Bars. And I am the “ma\u00f1ana type of person”, preferring late nights over early mornings. So how did end up in Ireland and not Spain?<\/p>\n
![\"Why](\"https:\/\/www.daslebenistgruen.com\/dlig\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/01\/Santiago-Plaza-Wine-240x300.jpg\")
<\/p>\n
Why Ireland – Pro and Con List<\/h4>\n
After a close analysis I actually asked myself why Ireland had won over Spain. According to my very rational pro and con list, I should be sitting in some Plaza on the Iberian peninsula, sipping affordable wine rather than overpriced Bulmers in a pub. Why Ireland when on paper Spain seemed so much more suitable for me?<\/p>\n
My question was partly answered during my approach to Dublin on the plane. I had a clear view of the Peninsula of Howth, with its distinct lighthouse and the small, rocky island “Ireland’s Eye”. It lay there, as it had each time I came to visit. Watching Ireland draw me in over the years. The minute I spotted it from the air, my heart began beating faster and I felt a warmth inside of me. This time I wasn’t here as a visitor. I was starting my biggest adventure. And still, it already felt like coming home. Mentally I tossed my pro and con list which contained nothing but facts and embraced the new start in my country of choice. ![\"Why](\"https:\/\/www.daslebenistgruen.com\/dlig\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/01\/Irelands-Eye-240x300.jpg\")
<\/p>\n
First steps in the heart of Dublin<\/h4>\n
The bus ride from the airport to the city centre was familiar. When I came to Dublin the first time in 2008, I lived in Ballymun in the North of the city and had taken pretty much the same journey every day for six months on my commute into town. I used to love sitting on the bus in the morning, still sleepy, seeing the very different parts of the city pass by. There was the rough and industrial neighbourhood of Ballymun with derelict estates at the time, followed by the gorgeous red brick buildings of Glasnevin and Drumcondra. Dublin with its many sides, condensed into a one and a half hour bus journey through slow moving traffic.<\/p>\n
The journey into the city centre was going to be long too today. But I had taken the 16 for a reason instead of the Airport Express Coach. The rattling of coins when people dropped their bus fare into the slot beside the driver’s cabin brought me right back. I was looking forward to hearing the Irish accent around me, which definitely would be on my pro list, if I still had one. Winding through Dublin’s suburbs, with a million stops on the way, was exactly what I wanted today.<\/p>\n
There was no guarantee this was going to work out. I had a job secured and some savings, but other than that just my euphoric memories from student days. Fond recollections of nights danced away in Whelan’s<\/a>, often accompanied by way too many pints of apple cider. Road trips all over the island, taking in Ireland’s remotest spots and beautiful scenery. Memories of joyful after work drinks in Ireland’s oldest pub, the Brazen Head Pub<\/a>, right beside the office where I did my placement. All these memories were connected to people I shared those experiences with, above all four German girls who became friends for life.<\/p>\n But now I was here on my own. And whilst my gut told me I had made the right decision, there was also the fear of failure. A bit of me wanted to prove to my family that I could make it, despite the risk I was taking, leaving my established life in Hamburg behind.<\/p>\n My German Dublin Girls had always predicted that I was going to end up back in Ireland, marrying a shepherd, and living in a cottage by the Sea<\/a> with lots of red-headed babies. Whilst this was just a joke between us, I would have loved to see it come true. Or at least some version of it.<\/p>\n Well, for now I wasn’t all<\/em> by myself. Two of my friends from Hamburg had accompanied me for moral support. I envied them when they left our hotel the next morning to go sightseeing, whilst I hunkered down on the bed, nervously calling around in search of an affordable apartment.<\/p>\n How much would I have preferred roaming touristy Dublin together, which wasn’t too busy at that time of year. And probably one of few cities not covered in residues from New Year’s Eve, as private fireworks and drinking in the streets were not allowed in Ireland. Something that would go on my pro list, now that I was not here as a tourist or student anymore. That morning I would have gladly mingled with the tourists in Temple Bar though. I didn’t care it was Dublin’s tourist trap with rip off prices for a pint. For me it was laced with memories of countless nights out, live music and great craic. Irish musicians with their sense of easiness, playing familiar tunes and spreading good vibes. In a way I wanted to treasure those memories, keep them pristine. On the other hand I couldn’t wait to experience it all anew. Sadly for now, it was all about finding a place to live or my adventure would be over before it began.<\/p>\n The answer to “why Ireland” remains a complex one. The feeling I get – and always have when I returned to Ireland – can’t be reduced to a simple pro and con list. Like with a new love, the initial magic of gorgeous green hills and cute sheep will fade. It is a deep sense of belonging that makes a relationship sustainable. What I found in Ireland completed my life like a missing piece of a jigsaw. I spread my wings and found new roots.<\/p>\n When I emigrated to Ireland, I mainly got two types of responses: Why Ireland? Can you not go to Spain where it is warm? Wow Ireland! Green Hills and sheep…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":4024,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[188],"tags":[26,98,231,100,99,59],"class_list":["post-176","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-blog","tag-dublin","tag-emigrating-to-ireland","tag-expat-life","tag-expats-in-ireland","tag-germans-in-ireland","tag-living-in-ireland"],"yoast_head":"\n![\"O'Connell](\"https:\/\/www.daslebenistgruen.com\/dlig\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/01\/OConnell-Street-2014-300x240.jpg\")
The bus left me off at O’Connell Street, the main artery of the northern inner city. When I stood there with my two suitcases, I paused for a moment to take in the hustle and bustle. Tourists in rain jackets and hiking boots, with big cameras, rushing past. The faint guitar sound of a street musician, a language cacophony from the Hop-on Hop-off busses. I felt excited and overwhelmed at the same time. I was finally here, with all my belongings that I needed for my fresh start in Dublin. For so long I had been dreaming of emigrating to Ireland<\/a> and on this New Year’s Day in 2014, I made it come true.<\/p>\nFond Memories vs. Reality<\/h4>\n
![\"Why](\"https:\/\/www.daslebenistgruen.com\/dlig\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/01\/IMG-20250620-WA0023-300x243.jpg\")
<\/p>\nNot a Tourist anymore<\/h4>\n
![\"First](\"https:\/\/www.daslebenistgruen.com\/dlig\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/01\/First-Steps-in-Dublin_2014-300x240.jpg\")
<\/p>\n![\"Why](\"https:\/\/www.daslebenistgruen.com\/dlig\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/01\/Temple-Bar_2014-240x300.jpg\")
<\/p>\nJust a Feeling<\/h4>\n
![\"Why](\"https:\/\/www.daslebenistgruen.com\/dlig\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2024\/01\/800x800-300x300.jpg\")
<\/p>\nFirst published 12th January 2016. Edited 12th May 2025.<\/h6>\n
![\"image_pdf\"](\"https:\/\/www.daslebenistgruen.com\/dlig\/en\/wp-content\/plugins\/pdf-print\/images\/pdf.png\" "\\"View")
<\/a>![\"image_print\"](\"https:\/\/www.daslebenistgruen.com\/dlig\/en\/wp-content\/plugins\/pdf-print\/images\/print.png\" "\\"Print")
<\/a><\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"