Strange But Truisms:

* Everyone is super environment friendly here. It makes for some interesting adjustments. The toilets, for example, flush for *nearly* one full second, and well…without getting totally gross about it, Mrs. Johnson requires more than that. Also, the lights in hotel rooms only stay on when the room key card is inserted into this little slot, there is no light bulb that shines brighter than 45 watts, you’re supposed to “throw the towel on the floor” if you want an actual new clean one in the morning, there are no sheets on the beds at all…just coverlets the size of postage stamps, and they don’t really “do” stoplights…the world and (their freeways) revolve (literally) around roundabouts. Giant fuckers. And a whole freakin’ lot of ‘em. Imagine: if you will, I-5 with a round-about every five or ten miles.

* Rent-a-Toilets. They are real things. And don’t think of like Hunnybuckets…these things are an experience best compared to peeing in an automatic carwash. First off: they plant them in the middle of City Center, for God and everyone to witness…these huge monstrosities about the size of a Winnebago. You enter 25 cents, and this huge mechanized rotation cylinder opens slowly…like the door of a spaceship, and you step in, wait for it to slowly close, then press a button to lock it. Next: do your business. But that is all. Just do the business, don’t take care of it, in fact, you *can’t*…there is no physical way to flush the toilet, in fact, there is a sign over the sink telling you that your Rent-a-Toilet will be doing that *for* you…later. Don’t bother reaching for soap or water faucets either, there aren’t any. You are just supposed to hold you hands in mid air where they tell you to, water spouts out, soap falls in your hands and after about five seconds everything shuts off, and just as you look for the towels (that aren’t there), a hand drier set at mock 80 zooms air at you in such fast speeds that the skin on your hand looks like it’s entering hyperspace. Finally, everything shuts off, and you are aloud to do the only thing since peeing: you press the button to let yourself out. Open glides the strange door, out you step, and the next person waiting in line is told by the screen to “Wait for cleaning cycle,” at which time the entire hub seals shut and you hear flushing and swishing and brushing the equivalent of a major car wash. About thirty seconds later, the light goes green, and the Rent-a-Toilet is back in commission. Really, it’s kinda terrifying and weirdly-awesome at the same time.

* Tiny roads make large cars. Remember back when I made fun of our Rent-a-car lady calling our Toyota sedan “large?” Laugh’s on me. It *is* large! The damn thing is a *boat* when you see the width of these roadways we are dealing with. It is true fact that people must park straddling the sidewalk curb (bus, truck, car…you name it) and still, two lanes of traffic must pass along, in what is less than what equals one lane at home. Small roads… like *small* small. Not only that, but the average speed posted in which to do this converts to 77 miles an hour. That’s “average,” from time to time you will see signs posted for “Calming Traffic,” which translates to only about 50 MPH. The Irish really only have two speeds: fast and faster. We are often passed by what must clock at 90 MPH on a routine basis. Does this mean they are blessed with some hyper ability to navigate these roads that we are not? No. Routinely (apparently), people die on these road all the time. In fact they remind you of it every so often when approaching major cities: “Welcome to Waterford: Did you know 72 people died in traffic accidents here last year?” Followed directly by a “Traffic Calming” sign. I am not even lying. In fact have already seen an accident while here…traffic crawling until we finally saw the reason: a completely gutted car, pointed the wrong way on the wrong side of the freeway. Completely torched. Conclusion: it literally hit so hard it blew up, over the barrier and landed on the other side. There was about half of said car’s fossil left behind.

* The build of an Irish Town. Every major road goes right through these towns whittling from two-lane almost-roadways to a very small one. These roads are the original ones that the towns were built on, no bigger than a horse and buggy in most areas, and the buildings line these roads in soft curves (not strait street lines) and are actually only one building with each successive roof a bit higher than the next, and painted to delineate “your house from mine.” A soft green house with a painted line border adjoins a soft peach house and so on…like a connection of old time apartments, (no gaps in between), lining the road all the way out of town. The curve of the buildings are reoccurrence town to town to town to the point that it must be for a specific purpose more than just “design,” but can’t figure out what it is. (Note: also noticed this often in London, particularly in Kensington and the older suburbs.)