In this village, as in most there are streets that come off of any given main road that, for Americans would seem treacherous. That’s because they really are (even though people know what they’re doing on them) and that’s the way of the world. I’ve been going 100kph at night down a two lane road between town and village and nearly plowed down a horse standing in front of me. I’m lucky I get to live and learn. The road in the photos is the road I walk normally to take Finny to / from school. You have to be ready to pull over when you sense a car coming at you from the other direction a ways off. Or, they have to pull over for you. You’re never sure until it’s almost too late and you’re headed at 80kph into each others grill. This is because sometimes there’s another type A plus neurotic parent leadfooting up on your tail. Then it can be an Irish standoff, between you and the old lady in the Citroen diesel heading at you who’s chattering up the hill and waiting for you to get out the way! You start to convince yourself that, being a yank you’re getting used to the fact that the steering wheel and the shifter are backwards. That’s right boys n girls, you simply…..stay……left. I sometime still hang out the window looking at the hair line distance between me and the oncoming Scania monster rig diming the accelerator as he passes and leaves us buffeting in a toronado wake. East of us in Furbo the pub /restaurant Padraicins gives, or at least used to give rides home to local patrons. Good idea.