By Carlina Grillo
These days, there are multiple forms of sightseeing. There’s the typical guided tours, pub hopping, gift shops, and getting lost. Then, there’s Tinder.
Using Tinder abroad took sightseeing to a whole new perspective—that perspective being from the depths of the dating pool.
I am writing to you from across the pond, all the way from Ireland, where I am currently sitting on a bus on my way to Cork.
Besides writing for The Lumberjack and watching raindrops roll down the bus windows, there are limited activities for these long travel days.
Social media is pretty boring when most of my mutuals are still sleeping. The seven hour time difference means when I’m sipping on my morning cappuccino, or on my mid-day bus ride, the only people up are the night owls and insomniacs.
That’s when I switched to Tinder, social media for the single and bored. I’ve noticed two things about Irish Tinder: half of the men are named Seán (or some other variation of Shawn) and 99% of Tinder cover photos are group photos. When you figure out who in the group the profile belongs to, it’s never the one you had hoped for. It’s especially difficult when the European men are friends with people who look exactly like them. I can go through an entire profile never knowing who’s who.
So, here I am, scrolling on Tinder as I’m leaving Galway, and I see another familiar face. This person however didn’t have a group photo, didn’t have a stereotypical European profile and what caught my attention the most was a photo from the Monterey Bay Aquarium. This man is either a tourist in Galway or has been a tourist around my stomping grounds. Either way, there’s some commonality.
I swiped right and it was a match. Immediately, I asked if he was from Ireland.
“Yes! I lived in America for a good while… didn’t we go to school together?” He asked.
Then it all clicked. His face was familiar because we attended the same small town high school in the Santa Cruz mountains. Turns out, he moved from Ireland to California, and then back to Galway. What are the odds?
And maybe this coincidence wouldn’t have blown my mind so much if it was my first encounter within this teeny tiny world.
What I failed to mention was my plane ride to Ireland from SFO. I sat in the terminal with my friend waiting to board our Aer Lingus direct flight to Dublin. From the corner of my eye, I see another familiar face. Sure enough, I wasn’t the only Cal Poly Humboldt student who had traveled from Arcata to SF to Dublin for Spring break.
I felt a sense of déjà vu as a classmate from my women’s studies lecture sat right down the row, just like we had done in the classroom 48 hours prior. I wasn’t completely sure it was them until 11 hours later when we caught the same bus into town. It was clear we caught each other by surprise, experiencing our first moments in Ireland together. Again, what are the odds?
Needless to say, my first time abroad, from one rainy city to another, I’ve been feeling right at home and as the Irish say, céad míle fáilte – or one hundred thousand welcomes.
