Kilkenny
Kilkenny was our first real-feeling Irish village. And it was a refreshing change from our three days in Dublin. We were pretty sure we were meant to keep driving in circles (the wrong side of the road) until we ran out of fuel. The car rental guys at the airport pretty much handed us the keys, told us where to find the car, and moved on to the next customer. We spent 20 minutes sitting in the car figuring out where things were like lights, shifter, plug for the GPS, and plug for the wifi hotspot (which has yet to work). We made our first mistake when we pulled out of the car lot and made a turn which took us in a big circle that ended up back at the car lot. We figure the car rental guys have a pool to see how many times the crazy American tourists circle the lot. That done, we figured out how to get on the road out of the airport toward the motorway. Having survived our first two roundabouts (that's traffic circle for those on the other side of the Atlantic), we promptly got on the motorway going the wrong direction. That took us one exit down in an even bigger circle where we ended up at the same roundabouts as before. This time we managed to get on the motorway going the right direction with surging Dublin traffic.
Oh, and did I mention that we're driving a Nissan Micra? It's a car that's so small we can put one suitcase in the trunk and the other in the back seat. At the time, it seemed like the smallest car in the world. That perspective was soon to change. We made it to Kilkenny in about an hour and a half and found a car park on the outside of the business district. We found a delightful little deli/cafe and soothed our nerves with sandwiches. We did a little shopping. Madlynn bought a little jewelry and I bought a nice black Irish cap. |
It was when we left Kilkenny headed for our hotel in Borris that the real education began. On the motorways, driving left seems weird but totally manageable. But we found ourselves on little narrow country roads. When I say narrow, I mean no shoulder, hedges growing up within an inch of the yellow line that rushed past the passenger window when they weren't hitting the mirror on that side. Worse, there were what seemed giant BMWs, Audis, Range Rovers and the like appearing in the middle of tight little turns.. And occasionally we'd meet a giant tractor pulling an even more giant piece of farm equipment. I'd been advised to take the full insurance coverage and now that seemed the smartest thing I'd managed to do. The 50 kilometers to Dorris seemed like 150 miles of torture.