Getting Your Irish Driver's License

Getting a driver’s license in Ireland is perplexing. Well a lot more than perplexing. It is fucking annoying, maddening, frustrating, idiotic.

You know. Here’s a sample of the test questions:

If the road is slippery, when should you drive your tractor with the left side wheels up on the grass verge in order to improve road holding?

OK, even ignoring the words ‘verge’ and ‘road holding,’ how is one to answer a question like this??

Here’s another one:

On a 2 plus 1 road, there are
a) two motorway lanes and one non-motorway lane in two directions.
b) Two non-motorway lanes and one motorway lane in two directions
c) Two motorway lanes in one direction and one non-motorway lane in the opposite direction
d) Two non-motorway lanes in one direction and one non-motorway lane in the opposite direction.

Email me your guesses and let's see if anyone is even close. All responses will be answered!

All foreign drivers have to pass the Irish drivers test. Except for those countires that have special relationships with Ireland, like the EU countries, the UK, Singapore, Australia, New Zealand. And Brazil. And maybe Costa Rica.

But Americans have to take the theory test, pass it, then sign up for the driving test, wait 5-12 months for an appointment (the licensing agency is SERIOUSLY backlogged but there is still no leeway on completing this marathon), then take a driving test.

I decided to investigate the cost of insurance in the event that I buy a car. Because I don’t have an Irish drivers license, I was told by the insurance agent that I couldn’t insure a car.

As I watched drivers of all nationalities whiz by me in their fine autos, I couldn’t believe that that was the truth. I was entering the Irish Dimension where nothing is as it is, it’s actually something else entirely. Four trips later to the same insurance company, I pried out of them that a) Americans all drive automatics so they don’t know how to drive in Ireland because Irish all have manual drives; b) that Brasilians (BRASILIANS!!!) can drive on their licenses in Ireland I guess because they are cool dancers; and c) if I get an International Driving Permit, I can get insurance until I get an Irish driver’s license.

I looked pretty cool myself as I danced down the street, happy in the thought that if I wanted to buy a car, I could now get insurance. Ah, but how much would this insurance cost me?

Back I go to the agent’s. Well, we all know I don’t have an Irish driver’s license but the agent informs me that once I pass the theory test, I would have a provisional driver’s license. With this, I cannot drive alone (!!!!?) and I must have displayed on my car 2 red-lettered ‘L’s’ designating me a raw beginner; can’t drive alone, can’t drive at night.

I remind the agent about the new-found possibility with my International Driving Permit. “Oh yes,’ she sighs. “Well let me check that out.” She has to call headquarters and they return with an annual payment of 842 euros.

Jeez, that’s what homicidal young 20 year old males have to pay. Evidently I have to start my driving history over from scratch for the Irish authorities to believe that I am actually a good driver. Drat being an American, why couldn’t I have been born Brasilian?

As I am sitting there considering the actual possibility of paying that extraordinary amount, I remember a friend told me about an online insurance broker. I ask my current agent to let me look them up in her telephone book (her look of incredulity was satisfying). After a quick conversation, exchange of particulars, the online folks tell me that I can drive for one year on my International Driving Permit and the annual insurance payment is 284 euros.

What?!?

Just in time. Because I have found a lovely little 1 bedroom cottage out by the sea and at the same time, checked out a very reasonable Hyundai which I will need to cover the distance of 10 km from my new village of Murrisk into Westport. I have moved up from the international boarding house to my own place, just in time for summer. And I am signed up for my driver’s theory test on July 10 with the driving test somewhere off in the misty future. Wish me luck!

Retiring in Ireland

I arrived back in Westport, Co. Mayo at the end of January 2008, armed with a year long visa granted me by the Immigration police. I contacted them after having an encouraging conversation with another American who was retired and aiming towards residency.

‘Aiming’ is the operative word here, since it takes five years of reapplying for one-year visas to be eligible for residency. Once you have been granted residency, you can then apply for naturalized citizenship and all the benefits that might imply.

My American friend Joe advised me to have tax returns, bank statements, and health insurance card available for perusal. But the police official only glanced at the insuarance card, asked if my kids were joining me (“no”), told me to pay 100 euros to an official bank account, and present the receipt to him when he returned in a few days. Once I had paid, he brought me down to the Gardai Station (police), took my photo, stamped my passport, and issued me a residency card, that isn’t REALLY a residency card. But it does allow me to live in Ireland for one year and offers the possibility of extending the visa every year until I do have residency.

The stamp in my passport is a bit problematic since it says I am not allowed to work or set up a business. Since my pension is not overly generous and Ireland is now the most expensive place to live in Europe (everyone says this, even the Brits, which I do not understand since anyone can see that the UK is hellaceously expensive. I mean it costs L1.40 for a cuppa tea for God’s sakes, that’s $2.40!! although now the pound has slipped against the Almighty Euro so the pound IS cheaper to Europeans), work will be desirous if I want to do anything beyond the very basics.

I spent the winter as a roommate, one of three living in a 4 bdrm row house in the center of Westport. The house was drafty and cold, with only a small peat fireplace and a wall-storage heater in the living room. The rest of the house was frigid. The bathroom had a electric water heating system which you flipped on just before turning on the water. Saved money on electricity, worked great, but was a little cold once you had to turn the hot water off. Not to mention sitting on that cold toilet seat for your first pee!! YIKES!

To keep track of my expenses, I wrote down every cent I forked over in a small book. In this way, I could see where I needed to watch myself and when I could splurge. I would recommend this activity for anyone wanting to know exactly where the money is leaking out. I set aside one day a week to spend nothing and sometimes I managed two days with no money being spent. I learned to pare down and adjust to life in Ireland. Not all families lived like this, many have central heating, and unlimited hot water. But I didn’t mind giving up some of the unnecessities of life for the greater goodness of living in Ireland. Life is simple and slower, food tastes better, walking is part of life and not part of my exercise program. People are friendly, most have a ready smile and a laugh, the hills off in the distance are dappled with sunshine and a passing shower, and there is a softness in the air that feels grand on my skin.

It may not be paradise, but it does a good imitation.