Ever since I was 16 years old, I’ve been working for a paycheck. This past month and a half traveling Europe has been the longest time I have been completely jobless.
People keep asking me if I am on holiday. (That’s usually the case for young people you meet staying in hostels around Europe.) My voice wavers for a second, “Uuhhhee, not really,” I usually reply. “I’m traveling full time, but with some volunteering and seasonal work mixed in.” They usually say how cool that sounds and I agree, except for maybe the extreme budgeting I have to do.
Even though exploring Europe with no work responsibilities has been grand, a couple of weeks in, I began to crave work. Not in the sense that I’m running out of money, so I better find work, but in the sense that my hands and my feet are craving to do a productive task. I would pass by shops and envy the cafe servers, the craftspeople and the artists.
That’s why I’m glad to be doing a job again. I returned to Ireland (It’s been my favorite country so far.) to do a work/trade at a hostel. I work 25 hours a week for a free room and food. Straightaway it felt good to be making beds, cleaning floors and folding sheets. I like having a purpose, even if it’s simple.
The hostel couldn’t be a more perfect place to work. It’s run by an extremely chill couple. It has an organic garden, chickens and a labrador retriever. And it’s in the cute town of Killarney, butted right up against a beautiful national park.
This is my work and my home for the next month: