Road Trippin’ On The Left

Before I even left for Ireland, I knew I was going to drive on the left. I had to do it. Not only is it part of the adventure, driving is also the best way to explore all of the nooks and crannies Ireland has to offer. I had to do it.

For months, I mentally prepared for my driving adventure. I even developed a solid game plan:

1. I was going to rent an automatic vehicle. While I can drive manual, I figured one thing at a time. Master driving on the left and then, you know what, go wild! Get a manual! But all in due time, grasshopper.
2. I would get a GPS system. Better safe then sorry. With my luck, I would find myself in the middle of a pasture surrounded by sheep in the rain with no idea how I got there. I needed GPS.
3. I would just follow the guy in front of me and hope we were going to the same place.

Next came the important part…the destination. I decided to head to the west coast of Ireland and spend four days touring County Galway and County Clare. With my soon to be acquired opposites car, I would be able to cover a lot of ground. I was pumped and a bit nauseous.

To alleviate any confusion, let me be clear about something…I can drive. I actually think I am a pretty proficient driver who gets from Point A to Point B in a timely manner. Maybe not within the speed limit or 100% following all traffic laws, but overall, I’m pretty efficient. Plus I live in Houston, where you spend a great deal of time in your car. I can drive. However, now, after more than 20 years of honing my driving technique, I was going to be sitting on the right and driving on the left? Nauseous.

After taking the train to Dublin, the bus to the Airport, and a bus from the airport to the rental station(reason #1 a car is a good idea), I was at the counter getting my opposites car. Remember the above mentioned game plan? Yeah, well…

1. So an automatic is a great deal more expensive than a manual to rent. Thrifty trumps sense, I went with the manual.
2. Thrifty struck again when it came to the GPS system. I felt like I needed insurance more than the GPS. I figured if I am in a field surrounded by sheep and one of then scratches the car, at least I’m covered. Plus, I have the GPS on my phone, right?

Small adjustments, no worries. I was given my keys, a map, and told not to pay the tolls on the M50 Motorway (sure, as soon as I figure out what and where the M50 is). With a pat on the head, off I go. No one walks me out to see the car. I’m told where to find it in the parking lot and invited to drive off. I could not believe I was given the keys to a car I believed I could drive with about 85% certainty, in a country full of road signs I 100% did not understand. Their faith in me was astounding.

The opposites car gifted to me was a VW Up. Snazzy little compact car. As soon as I spotted it, I went to the back to load my suitcase and immediately went to the left-hand side of the car to get in and was greeted by no steering wheel and a large sign stating “Drive on the Left.” Dammit! Right out of the gate I went to the wrong side of the car. After looking around and making sure no one saw that, I moved to the right side of the car and got behind the wheel.

I just sat there for a bit getting acclimated. I went through the gears (with my left hand!), checked my mirrors, tested the windshield wipers, and plugged in my destination on Google Maps. I was like a student driver except I was where the instructor sat. During my vehicle check, I was bemoaning the fact that on this momentous occasion Ireland decided to stop its two-day run of sun and return to its regularly scheduled program of rain. Of course. Sucking it up, I started the car and started driving.

Pretty much the first five minutes were spent chanting, “Holy Shit, Holy Shit, Holy Shit.” The next five minutes were spent thanking the driver of the Fluence in front of me for guiding me to the freeway (without their knowledge, they kept Game Plan #3 alive). Then, for the next ten minutes I loosened my white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and stress ate three rice cakes. After about 30 minutes on the road, I started to calm a bit. I was on the freeway at this point and to be honest, it was smooth sailing. One freeway and one gear the entire way…easy. Google Maps did not let me down and lead me safely to my Galway destination. There were a few hand grabs to the right for the gear shift and I continually rolled down the window on the left instead of the one next to me, but overall, I killed it! I drove from one side of Ireland to the other sitting on the right and driving on the left! After parking, I skipped my way to the Galway shops to buy myself something pretty.

But all is not well in this saga. Remember the thrifty decision not to get a GPS system because I have my phone? Well, phones often lose charge and after shopping and having lunch to celebrate my lefty driving success, my phone deserted me. My hotel was 25 minutes away in a coastal town called Spiddal…and that’s all I knew.

The next five minutes were spent cursing. Another five minutes were spent praying for divine intervention in the form of two minutes of battery life. Finally, I pulled out the map given to me at the car rental place and tried to figure it out based on the below information.

I missed my phone already. It looked like R336 would take me from Galway city centre to Spiddal (Spiddle in Irish). My hope was that once I got there, I could wander the streets shouting out the left-side window for help and eventually find my hotel. At least that was the plan. I got on the road and immediately looked for a stranger to follow.

This “follow a stranger” strategy seemed to be working well for me. After one wrong turn, I followed a car along the coast through Salthill, Bearna, and Furlough, until I got to Spiddal. These are really small towns and my hotel was right off the main street. Like a champ, I found my hotel and secured rockstar parking. Overall, a successful day on the road.

Spiddal is part of the Connemara Coast where a popular travel recommendation is to take a coastal drive along all nine of the towns that make up the Connemara Coast. The drive will take you along the beautiful seascape as well as through the various villages where Irish is spoken just as much as English. It is like a step back in time to Ireland of old.

That being said, there is no way in hell I am going to drive along a coast for five to seven hours in an opposites car while attempting to sightsee. That’s how you end up surrounded by sheep.