Driving in Ireland

...is fraught with peril. You can't relax your attention for two seconds. I've managed to turn around today and naturally, unconsciously get in the right-hand lane. In a hilly neighbourhood. What saved me was both low city speed and that I wasn't at the top of a hill when another car approached in the same lane. I actually thought "what is he doing in my la--*" and changed quickly. Usually I've been good though.

Also, going at 80kph in twisty winding regional roads is... almost starting to be fun. :) I took a video of me driving through them. Roads in Ireland are of one of four different types:

- National roads (numbered Nx or Nxx), either two-lane per side divided highways near big towns, reverting to one-lane highways, but with wide lanes, for trucks and the like, between towns. Max speed 100 km/h.

- Regional roads (numbered Nxxx), where there's just enough space for two cars to pass each other on the pavement. Entrances to roads or private parkings (often long and wide to accomodate friends parking over) are often godsends. Going off the road is often not an option as it might be a brick/stone wall, a fence, a hedge (often hiding a stone wall or a fence), trees, or the like. Max speed 80 km/h.

- Local roads (numbered Lxxxx), like above but with narrower lanes. Two cars may pass if they go slowly enough to better judge distance. Max speed still 80 km/h.

- neighbourhood roads, unnumbered, wide enough for one car. No, they are not one way. Yes, lorries and farm equipment often use them. If two meet, one has to back up to the nearest entrance/parking/road encountered to let the other pass. Max speed insanely still 80 km/h.

It's day 4 of driving by myself; I went from Cork up to Athlone and now west to Westport on the west coast. Today I explore the Connemara, and tomorrow it's the Aran Islands, ending in Galway.

I was not feeling well yesterday, liquid nose (not just runny) and feeling cold and sweating a lot despite being in a knit shirt and it being over 20 degrees C and sunny. After two evenings of heavy dancing and holding a ton of people's hands, it's no surprise, really. I stopped at a B&B earlier than planned, right on the road I was on. I am a little leery of the place, though: the guy answering wasn't sure if there was space for a single person, said he had to check with the other person who was out. I had seen her get back in, though, so he came back immediately saying it was okay. I heard people come in many times, including after midnight, and the car park at the back was always full with 3 cars - but none of the other rooms were ever occupied that night... and the guy was attentive, but the least loquacious Irish person I've met so far, and for a B&B operator, that's rather weird. At least I rested enough, and sweated out my cold thanks to the hottest comforters I've ever encountered. I needed that a lot.

And now, off to climb Croagh Patrick, 712 metres! :)

Croagh Patrick

...is Ireland's highest mountain, at 762m high. I climbed it. In 1h5m. I stayed up trying to catch my breath (oxygen concentration is remarkably different) for 20 minutes, and cursing that my batteries had just died. (Though thinking about it now, maybe it was the altitude. I should recheck them.) I went down in 50 minutes.

The last bit is literally at least at 35 degrees, if not outright 45.

It was insane. Yet somehow fun.

I am never doing anything like this again in my life.

(At the top, my first words were akin to "I have never been happier about the notion of 'flat' in my life!")

I'm going to hurt tomorrow...

Oh yes, and the whole of the Connemara region (in the midnorthwest) is fantastically beautiful beyond compare and breathtaking.

Oh, and that's where you can find sheep on the main National road, resting, and you have to go slowly around them. Flocks aren't bound by stone walls like in the south. Yes, Spunky, I have pictures. :)