Erin Go Bragh

On this day many of us think of Ireland. As far as I know, I don't have a drop of Irish blood, but I have long been fascinated with the Emerald Isle. Just recently, knowing I have a bit of windfall coming as a result of my aunt's death, I thought about planning a trip there. I picked up a guidebook and did what I have done many times--made imaginary trips.

Everything about Ireland seems interesting. I love the mythology, the history, the scenery, the literature, the music. I even like the way the women look--I'm a sucker for a freckled redhead. I like their accents. We have a woman who works in our San Francisco office with as heavy a brogue as you're liking to hear, and I could listen to her talk for hours.

A few obstacles arise when I think about a trip to Ireland, though. I wouldn't want to be on one of those guided tours. I'd end up on a bus with retirees, and I don't like having a set itinerary. On the other hand, I don't want to rent a car, either. I'm afraid of driving on the wrong side of the road, and most of the cars there are manual transmission. Yeah, I'm a pussy.

I think the ideal thing would be a trip to Dublin, with a few guided sidetrips. I wouldn't get to see much of the country, but Dublin seems like a solid four or so days worthy of site-seeing.

The money I'm going to get, sadly, is not probably enough to pay for this excursion. It would probably be better put to use working on eliminating my debt. But one never knows. I've done precious little traveling in my life--only about half of the 50 states, and one trip abroad (a great trip to England). It saddens me to think I'll never get to all the places I want to go, unless I strike it rich soon. But a trip to Ireland is definitely in the cards, I think.