The weather here has a personality of its own.
Most days arrive wrapped in a grey, moody sky, a fine, persistent rain that doesn't quite feel like rain until you're already wet. Some mornings, it makes staying in bed feel less like laziness and more like the right response to the weather. The kind of morning where you need layers of clothing just to step outside, and somehow still wonder whether you've dressed enough.
The seasons seem to change more than just the weather here. Your clothes change with them too. One month you're figuring out how many layers you need, and before you know it, you're carrying a jacket everywhere because you never quite know what the day has planned. There are also times when it gets dark surprisingly early, and by the time you realise the afternoon is over, the city already feels like evening.
But then there are those rare long, bright days when the sunlight seems to completely transform Dublin. The green becomes greener, the old stone warmer, and suddenly everyone is outside. It feels like the same city showing you a completely different side of itself.
But Dublin has its own soundtrack, and eventually you start noticing it.
Traffic moving through the streets. Buses pulling away from stops. The beeping sound of pedestrian traffic signals. Conversations passing by. Street musicians playing around corners. Seagulls calling above everything else. And somewhere underneath all of it, the River Liffey quietly cutting through the centre of the city.
I've noticed how much people walk here. There seem to be footpaths everywhere. Almost wherever I stand, there is a pavement leading somewhere. People walk to work, walk to university, walk to the shops, walk through parks, and sometimes just seem to walk because they can. It is very different from what I was used to in India.
And the Irish seem to run everywhere too.
Morning, evening, even in the rain. You'll see people out running when the weather looks like a perfectly reasonable excuse to stay indoors. I still haven't figured out whether it's discipline, the weather, or simply an Irish refusal to let the rain decide what they do.
There are also so many parks and green spaces. St Stephen's Green has become one of those places where the city suddenly slows down. You can go from busy streets and traffic into green lawns and trees within minutes. And outside the city, there are plenty of trekking spots too, places where you can trade the sound of traffic for hills, wind and open skies.
And then there is the sea.
Pebble beaches, grey skies, open water and lighthouses make the coastline feel completely different from the city centre. There is something about standing by the sea in this weather that makes everything feel quieter, even when the wind isn't.
The city feels different from what I'm used to. Life seems slower and more relaxed compared with India. People don't always seem to be in a hurry. On weekends, the streets come alive in a different way. People walk around, meet friends, sit outside pubs, and, more often than not, hold a pint of beer. I've also noticed that Irish lads really love their football and beer. You'll often see football being discussed, watched in pubs, or becoming part of the weekend plans. Beer also seems surprisingly affordable compared with what I expected.
I've also noticed how many people walk around with noise-cancelling headphones on. Maybe they're blocking out the traffic, the wind, or perhaps preparing themselves for another cold Irish day. I sometimes wonder if the headphones are as much about surviving winter as they are about listening to music.
Even getting around has become part of the experience. The double-decker buses have become one of those small things that make me feel like I'm living in Dublin rather than just visiting it. Sitting upstairs, watching the streets pass by through the window, has become one of my favourite ways to see the city.
The Luas is another pleasant surprise. It feels simple, reliable and easy to use, and slowly it has become one of those things I don't think twice about anymore.
University life has its own rhythm too. The clubhouse bar on campus has been a completely new experience for me compared with university life in India. Having a bar right there at university, where people casually meet after classes, have a drink, talk, and unwind, is something I never really experienced back home. It's one of those little cultural differences that makes studying here feel like a genuinely different chapter of life.
Even university itself feels different. Attendance doesn't seem to carry the same sense of being constantly monitored that I was used to. And my university has its own little ecosystem, a lake, swans, an apple tree, woodland and even wildlife moving around campus. Sometimes it feels less like walking through a university and more like walking through a small piece of countryside.
Coffee has also become a small part of the adjustment. Back home, I was used to chai. Here, there seems to be an entire language of coffee, flat whites, cappuccinos, americanos, lattes, and countless variations. I'm slowly figuring out what I actually like. Tea still feels familiar, but coffee has somehow become part of the Dublin routine.
Food has been another pleasant surprise. There is more variety, more choice, and so many different kinds of bread that I'm still discovering them. I like the simple things too, a spice bag after a long day, lasagna when I want something comforting, Irish stew when I want something that feels made for this weather, and apple pies that I've become particularly fond of.
Even grocery shopping has somehow become part of the weekend routine. A trip to Lidl can feel like a small Saturday activity, walking through the aisles, discovering something new, and wondering how a simple shopping trip managed to take so long.
Entertainment doesn't always have to be complicated either. An €18 cinema subscription that gives you unlimited movies has become one of those small luxuries that makes the city feel a little more affordable and gives me something to look forward to.
Dublin is definitely more expensive, though. Sometimes painfully so. You notice it in rent, groceries, transport, and the little things that somehow add up. But I'm slowly learning that living here is also about choosing what is worth spending on.
One thing I particularly noticed is how much thought seems to go into accessibility. If you are disabled, Ireland can feel like a relatively welcoming place to live. Accessible entrances, paths, transport and other accommodations are much more visible in everyday life. It is something I had not paid as much attention to before, but living here has made me notice how important those small details are.
The little gestures matter too.
People hold doors open for each other. "Thank you" and "sorry" seem to appear constantly in everyday conversations. Even small interactions have a certain politeness to them. After a while, you start saying them automatically too.
I've started noticing how much life there is in the smallest corners. Flowers appear unexpectedly along streets and outside old buildings. Green lawns stretch between stone walls, impossibly lush after the rain. The old cathedrals, their stone arches and weathered walls, make parts of the city feel much older than the morning commute suggests.
Walking through Dublin can sometimes feel like moving between different centuries.
There's O'Connell Street, with the monument and the bullet holes still visible in the stone, small reminders that the city's history isn't always something kept behind glass. There are statues and monuments scattered throughout the city, each quietly carrying a piece of a story. Then there is the Dublin Portal, where the city suddenly feels like it is trying to connect its present with another place and another perspective.
And then, occasionally, Dublin surprises you.
A long stretch of sunlight. A blue sky that somehow makes the whole city look different. The green becomes greener, the old stone warmer, and everyone seems to come outside at once. Those days make you understand why people love this place.
Maybe that's what settling in really means. Not suddenly feeling at home, but slowly collecting sounds, streets, rainy mornings, layers of clothing, changing seasons, early sunsets, double-decker buses, the Luas, traffic signals, old stones, green parks, trekking trails, pebble beaches, lighthouses, flowers, good food, different coffees, apple pies, weekend Lidl trips, cinema nights, street music, and small acts of kindness until a place that once felt unfamiliar starts carrying pieces of you.