Au Revoir France, Failte Eire

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Saturday, June 20th, From Gaul to Gaelic

Oh how I hate travel days. They are full of tension and stress. You have to wake up early, be at such and such place on time or miss your train/airplane. Don't forget to triple check your room to see if you forgot to pack something or you might never see it again. On Saturday we left France and headed for Ireland after another planes, trains and automobile marathon. We were up at 4:30am, and after sad goodbyes with Pierre and Christine we were on the road by 5:30am to Lyon, catch the TGV in Lyon directly to Charles De Gaulle airport, then Air France puddle jumper to Dublin, then rental car # 2 from Dublin to Sligo.

Love Travel, Hate Airports

Let me just take a brief travel blog break to complain about Charles De Gaulle airport. The security line was awful, it even puts Atlanta to shame with it Wall of China like length. Fortunately I had the sense to ask one of the airport employees and found out that we could take the much shorter intra-european security line. When we finally hit the x-ray machines, everything came off - belt, shoes, jackets and even the lint in your pockets. All electronics, and I do mean all, had to come out of your bag and into a bin. For a gadget guy like me that took like 5 minutes which is an eternity in line. If there was a warning, a sign or if it had been the procedure had been consistent in other airports like Dublin I would say, no problem, I can't complain. But this was a big pain in the rear.

Welcome to Ireland, Please Drive on the Left !!

I wonder if the tourist board of Ireland ever considered this irony - for most visitors their first introduction to Ireland is the nightmare called driving on the left. The Brits have screwed up many countries with their legacy of driving on the left side of the road, and sadly this includes Ireland. Our rental car had big yellow warning signs plastered to the window screaming, "DRIVE ON THE LEFT !!!". The first 30 minutes of driving on the left is nothing short of controlled terror and the most at risk for an accident. Back in April I had driven on the left in St. Thomas which is no problem because the steering wheel is still on the "correct" side. Move the steering wheel to the right hand side of the car and then ask a man to drive on the left and suddenly it's a whole new game. The worst part in my opinion is figuring out how to shift gears with your left hand. I can't tell you how many times I tried to shift from 2nd gear to 3rd gear and ended up back in 1st instead.

The Colonel Saves the Day

With a bit of luck, prayer, and Gina the Garmin guiding the way, we successfully navigated the Dublin highways and onto the N4 headed to Sligo. We were starving and thirsty after our passage through the gauntlet of Charles De Gaulle airport. Starving and thirsty make for bad travel companions, grouchy seat mates in the car, and stares from your spouse that make the snakes on Medusa's head look like flowers. My faulty memory, or maybe my hungry brain, thought there was a Tesco supermarket just outside of Dublin on the N4. It was only 2 and a half hours to Sligo, so it couldn't be that far, right ? Wrong. 1 hour and 45 minutes later we finally came across the Tesco I remembered from my previous trip. Tiffany was so ready to throttle me because she was so hungry. My head and neck were pounding with pain from the stress of driving on the left and because I was hungry also. We headed straight for the deli but being the end of the day, it was cleaned out. In desperation, I am embarrassed to say we walked across the street to a new Kentucky Fried Chicken (KFC) to eat dinner. Never had I been so happy to see the Colonel !! We walked out of the KFC a rejuvenated family, but humbled at how we stumbled on our first meal in Ireland. We made a solemn vow never to tell anyone of our misdeed, well.... at least until I post to the Travel Blog.

Sweet Sligo

It was only a few minutes to our Bed and Breakfast in the town of Tubbercurry after we crossed the border into County Sligo. Teresa Kelly was our host, and she came rushing out to greet us with a big hug as soon as she saw us pull in the driveway. I had met Teresa on the last trip with my brother Stefan, and instantly felt like I was home with family because she was so friendly and nice. She just loved meeting the girls, and ushered us into her kitchen for some Rhubarb pie and tea. After we polished off the pie, Teresa wanted to hear all about our trip and we gladly obliged. At the end of a long travel day, being welcomed by Teresa was like coming home.

Observations: Speaking English Again

It was really weird to see signs in English again and be able to understand public conversations with no problems. I found myself having to change my speaking style back to a more normal conversational tone.

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Photos

Air France
Boarding the Air France jet for Dublin.