We got a stick-shift, first of all … so you’re doing all your stick-stuff with the left hand. Thank goodness the clutch and the gas pedal weren’t moved. Took a bit of mental adjustments to get used to – Occasionally I would automatically reach down with my right hand for the clutch.
We did GREAT as a team, I have to say. We took turns being Navigator and Driver. Two essential jobs.
The one who was Navigator also had another very important job: Emotional Supporter of the Driver.
The Driver could not do her job without the Emotional Support of the Navigator.
“You are doing so good.”
“Okay, so a roundabout is coming up … take your time … you’re doing awesome …”
“Member to look right … but you’re doing so great!”
Occasionally, the Driver would blurt out: “I don’t care that there are 20 cars behind me right now. I have to drive slow.”
The Navigator would say, “You do whatever you need to do.”
There was definitely a specific sub-set of Emotional Support which deserves its own category:
Supporting One Another Through the Endless Roundabouts.
Now – a word on “roundabouts”. I grew up in Rhode Island, a state of many many many rotaries. We are very used to rotaries, the yielding rules, what you do when you’re IN the rotary, etc. The rules are exactly the same in Ireland, except that when you yield, you must look right, as opposed to left. To someone who has NEVER driven through a rotary before (and unless I’m mistaken, there are some states in the US that don’t have them) – all of that might be mind-bogglingly scary.
For the first 10 roundabouts, we would get into this hunker-down almost military attitude. “Okay. Here comes a roundabout. Get ready. You ready? Everything’s going to be fine.”
Navigator would scan the signs for which exit to take off said roundabout.
“Okay, so you’re going to go 3/4 of the way around … follow the signs for N6 … ”
Driver pulls up. Yields. Looks right. Pulls into rotary, swings around, finds exit, takes it … and then Navigator congratulates Driver. “GREAT job. That was perfect.”
We were old hands at roundabout behavior within 2 days, but those first couple ones were a wee bit stressful – and definitely required 2 people to make it all come off.
When we dropped the car off, with no bumps, no bruises, no crashes, no disasters, nothing … we felt like rock stars. Allison said, “I didn’t want to gloat about it until we had passed over the keys … seemed like it would be bad luck.”
Funnily enough (or – er – actually, not funny at all) – a couple weeks before we arrived, 2 Americans were driving along somewhere in Ireland, blithely on the wrong damn side of the road, and crashed head-on into a car coming the other way. This is probably not noteworthy at all, as Americans are always driving on the wrong freakin’ side of the road all over Europe (there were stickers placed throughout the car – reminding us: “DRIVE LEFT”, etc.) … but what made this one kind of funny (and it was mentioned to us time and time again during our travels) – was that the car they crashed into was being driven by a Minister of Parliament. Everyone kind of cackled with glee over that one. “Did ya hear about those Americans who crashed into the Minister of Parliament??” Again, it’s not funny – because the 2 Americans (in their tiny car) were badly hurt – while the Minister of Parliament, in his enormous official car, was untouched – I believe the Americans are still in the hospital.
However: we never drove on the wrong side of the road. We didn’t even have any “oops!” moments like that. The teeny country-roads at night were a bit scary – the one down to Kinsale especially. Night-time, no lights, small road … no idea where we were going … STRESS. But we arrived in one piece.
And we were both terrified of and a little bit angry about right-hand turns. They stressed us out to no end – we almost wanted to drive out of our way to avoid having to deal with them. Left-hand turns, no big deal, easy-peasy. Right-hand turns required total concentration, lots of emotional support, and frantic looking back and forth … “Am I okay? Am I okay?” “You’re great – okay – GO. NOW.”
Allison, murmuring, as she pulled up to an intersection: “Shit. A right-hand turn.”
I was Navigator/Emotional Supporter so I said, “Take your time. You’re gonna do great.”
And she did. And we both did.
It was a good little car. My, she was yar!
