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We drove around Wexford for a day. It is a nice town, but the streets were very narrow. So narrow that I knocked the side mirrors off the car trying to get down one road. We circled back around the block and found it lying by the side of the road and snapped it back on.
Getting out of town there was some construction and we couldn’t get back to the road we took into town. We tried another road but couldn’t seem to get back to where we wanted to be. We kept going around the hill outside of town and not getting to the main road.
We knew were were in trouble when we were on a road with grass running down the middle and chickens chasing our car.
We stopped for directions from a man digging a ditch on the side of the road.
“It’s easy,” he said. “Go down here, turn left. Follow that road until it ends. Turn left again and it goes right to the main road.”
“Thank you very much,” I said.
“So, what part of England are you from?” he asked.
“Actually we’re from Boston in the US,” I said.
“In that case, you can’t go the way I told you. You’ve got to turn right and go into town where there is a lovely little shop you can buy gifts.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “But, we’re going the short way.”
He nodded and went back to digging.

The next day we set off cross country and saw many more interesting things.