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Thursday, February 21, 2013

Destination: Ireland. A Home Exchange


A home exchange? What a great idea! Right?

Well, that depends on who you talk to. It's not for everyone, I suppose.
Most of my friends said they could never do it, could never trust strangers in their own home.
My response was simply that everything that I value is coming with me. And I wasn’t referring to what was in my suitcase.

The preparations were intense. On top of the regular packing and planning for our trip, there was the additional burden of preparing the house for the other family. I wrote a four-page summary of information complete with instructions on the proper operation of the dishwasher, TV, washing machine, computer, navigation system, coffee maker, etc. Plus, recycling instructions, baby sitter telephone and emergency numbers. Of course the house had to be in tip-top shape, with fresh bedding and towels, as well as waste and laundry baskets emptied.

By the time we left, I was exhausted.

We swapped cars too. Why not? A rental would have cost nearly a thousand for the duration.

So, we left the keys in an envelope addressed to our guests at the information desk at the airport. We checked in, passed through security and then waited in the boarding area for the passengers from Ireland to embark from the plane that we would subsequently board and then retrace their route.

The waiting area was glass all around and adjacent to the receiving area for arrivals. The aircraft was parked on the tarmac about 50 meters away so the passengers had to descend the stairs and walk towards the terminal. So we watched intently at everyone disembarking, to catch a glimpse of the strangers that would spend the next eleven days driving our car, lounging on our couch and sleeping in our beds.

And then we saw them. A family with several small children. I looked for the mother. I had spoken with her on the phone and passed dozens of emails, but actually hadn't seen any photos of her. What if she were, um, well, unkempt, repulsive even? How could I let someone like that in my very own safe haven?
But she wasn't! She looked, well, like me! An Irish me! OK, but with dark hair and totally different, though very much the same. Ahhhh. Sigh of relief.