roadquill1

Dear friends and family,
I had hoped to upload pics of our travels, but unfortunately, the WordPress app on my iPad is temperamental, and will not upload my pics. If anyone has experienced success with this, please let me know. Meanwhile…

After stepping off the city bus, we carefully crossed the road to our car rental in Dublin. (Look to the right before stepping off the curb!)

The Czech-born clerk up-sold us on more auto insurance (“You are covered already, but if you have an accident, you would have to pay up to EU$1375!”), and as I considered my next few minutes when I would soon pull into traffic on the left side of the street, I quickly accepted. I figured I might be saving my EU$1375 a lot sooner than they expected.

“The Skoda is around the back. Just turn right onto Drumcondra, and follow the signs to the M50 freeway, and then take the exit 7 to N6 highway for Galloway. Oh, and pay the motorway toll next door before you leave.” (Are you KIDDING ME??? I have never driven on the left side of the road!!! Can you provide a driving lesson? What were those directions again??)

Helpfully, he gave us a map, and marked all the exits. However, only about a half-hour later we realized that he gave us the wrong exit to N6! In order to sort of be on the same route as Bob and Alice, who would be leaving later than us, we pulled over at a rest stop and fuel outlet, had a quick lunch, re-routed our iPad maps and headed through rural Ireland on some 2 lane back roads to get us back on N6. After negotiating several round-abouts almost successfully (clockwise, of course) we were back on track.

All went well until we cut off the N6 just east of Galloway – headed for the Dingle Peninsula, and the little village of Doolin. Now, we found ourselves HURTLING along very narrow roads with the left wheels on the dotted yellow line that marked the edge of the pavement, the driver-side mirror constantly in danger of a collision with the oncoming vehicles, and Sandy’s left (passenger) side occasionally scraped by dense brush which also occasionally covered up the dotted yellow line! The really close calls were reserved for passing buses, whose tires were frequently over the often non-existent centre line.

Now, I say “hurtling” only because, in trying to avoid creating a line of cars, we were driving at what I would refer to as a reckless speed of 70 km/h, or so. The signs suggested a speed limit of 100, while another mentioned “Drive with Caution”. Nobody, in their right, or wrong minds could drive at that posted speed limit!

Passing opportunities were rare and there were few pull-outs! Consequently, many overtaking vehicles just pulled into the right hand lane whenever it suited them – drawing gasps from my white-knuckled passenger, whose shoe soles were already worn out from pushing them though the floor boards.

Oh, and our vehicle was a standard shift, with the gear shift being to my left. And, just to increase my frequent moments of apprehension, in shifting down to prepare for a particularly bad corner, all too often I found 1st gear instead of 3rd resulting in a lurching slow down and eliciting groans from my terrified co-pilot. (The warning signs read “Unstable road edge”, and there was also a snaky arrow, but my two favourites on one small stretch of road were “Dangerous Curves” followed a few turns later by “Severe Bends”. I glanced at Sandy, and I suspected that she was experiencing the latter!!)

Shortly after this last stretch, we gradually caught up to a small black car that was doing the speed that we could enjoy. Unfortunately, the driver pulled over to let us pass. Fortunately, it was Bob and Alice, and shortly after we rejoined them, we found our way into Doolin where we located the Information Centre and booked a B&B at Fisherman’s Rest, managed by a garrulous, retired fisherman, Danny Guerin, and his wife, Maeread. It had been a long, strenuous day for all of us.