Road Trip 8

Kerry and Luka and Dave and Carter

Previously on ER

A grateful (and rich) patient invited some of the ER doctors on an all-expenses paid trip to Ireland to attend a conference in Galway. Arriving in Dublin they discovered that they had to drive themselves to Galway. Kerry spent most of the journey trying to get into Luka's pants. Unfortunately some unfortunate accidents resulting in Carter getting into them first <g>. (Not like <that> you filthy minded people you, he simply ran out of clean clothes to wear and had to borrow some). After several misadventures, they arrived on the outskirts of Galway.


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As Luka drove around a corner, they were greeted by a sign saying 'Failte go Gallimh'

"At last," muttered Kerry.

"Does anyone know how to get to the hotel?" asked Luka, as he drove through along the road.

Kerry shook her head. "I think our best bet is to head straight for the University. There should be someone there setting up for the seminar. They'll be able to tell us how to get to the hotel."

"Okay then...how do we get to the University?"

"I'm sure it'll be well signposted," replied Kerry.

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Half an hour later, they were still looking for a signpost, and Dave was starting to get dizzy from all the roundabouts they had gone through.

"Luka, you're sending us round in circles," said Carter. "We've definitely been here before."

"I'd like to see <you> do any better," muttered Luka under his breath. At every roundabout, each of his traveling companions suggested a different turn off, and then complained loudly when the University failed to materialize in front of them. "I thought you said you had a map of Galway, Kerry," he said out loud.

"I do," said Kerry, blushing slightly, "But it's all in Irish. I can't find the University on it anywhere."

Luka rolled his eyes.

"Don't they speak English here?" asked Dave, with a look of horror on his face. "How am I going to chat up, err I mean get to know, err talk to anyone?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll find some way to communicate," teased Carter.

"Don't be mean, John," said Kerry, smiling at the look on Dave's face. "Don't worry Dave, people do speak English here. You shouldn't have any problem." Well, not more than usual, she thought to herself.

Finally, they pulled over to the side of the road, and called over the first passer-by they saw.

"Excuse me," said Kerry, "I wonder if you could tell us how to get to the University?"

"Well, you have to study really hard," said the young man. "Just kidding. You're not too far away. Just keep going straight, past Rabbittes pub until you come to Eyre Square. That's the big green area. Then go halfway round the square, past the Skeff hotel, and turn left down Shop Street. Turn right at the 'Cellar' bar and you're into Eglington Street. At the end of the street, go left, around a bend and over the Salmon Weir Bridge. Facing you will be the Cathedral. Just go to the right of that and turn right at the petrol station and the main entrance is the first on the right. Got it?"

Kerry was trying to remember the directions. "We have it," said Luka. "Thank you for your help."

"Anytime," said the man as he went on his way.

"Okay, that doesn't sound too bad," said Luka, as he pulled out into the road. "Just keep an eye out for those pubs he mentioned."

"Yeah, and if we get lost, we can always ask for directions in one," said Dave, hopefully. "Say, is anyone else hungry."

"Shut up, Dave," chorused the other three.

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After a few wrong turnings, and more requests for directions, they finally made it as far as the cathedral. Dave looked at the writing on a small building near the river.
"Thanagamar, conaicamer, bu...buamer, olamer," he read out as they passed.
"What the hell does that mean?"

"Maybe it is another Irish greeting," suggested Luka, "You know, like 'pogue mo thoin'." He tried to keep a straight face.

"I'm not sure if that's how it's pronounced," said Dave. "I mean, maybe that's why those people in Birr were annoyed at me. Maybe they don't like tourist mispronouncing their language."

Luka snorted, but made no comment.

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"There, that's it," exclaimed Kerry, as she saw the sign. 'Collaiste na hOllscoile Gaillimh - University College Galway'.

"Thank god for that," said Dave. The other three looked at him, apprehensively.

"What? No, no, I'm not nauseous. Just stiff from being cramped in the back of this car. Carter's taking up all the leg room."

"I am not," said Carter, indignantly. "You're the one taking up more than your share of space."

"Children, children," said Kerry, smiling at the two of them. "I know it's been a long couple of days, but we're nearly there."

Dave didn't reply. He had his nose pressed up against the window trying to see, if that really was a bicycle hanging at the top of a flagpole beside the car park.

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Following the signs in the College, Kerry and her entourage made their way to the registration desk, which had been set up in the Quad. "Hi, I'm Dr Weaver from Chicago, and these are my colleagues. We're here to register for the seminar."

"Welcome to Galway. I'm Niamh Ni Floinn," said the young woman behind the desk. "Actually, we were expecting you yesterday. What happened? Did you miss your flight?"

"Oh no," said Kerry, "We got to Dublin all right, but there was no transport arranged, so we had to hire a car and drive here. We got a flat tire half way here, and had to stay overnight in Birr, while it was being fixed."

Niamh looked at Kerry in surprise. "You mean you didn't get your tickets?"

"Tickets?"

"Yes, we sent you plane tickets from Dublin to Galway. When you didn't show up at the airport, we figured maybe you'd missed the plane."

"We could have flown to Galway?" said Luka. "We could have avoided all the flat tire's, vomiting stops, being crapped on by cows?"

"Oops," said Kerry, as she started to blush.

"Kerry/Dr Weaver/Chief," the three chorused as they looked at Kerry.

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To be continued.

Author's notes.
Apologies if I've given incorrect directions. It's been 6 years since I lived in Galway, and over 18 months since I was last visiting.
Thanagamar, conaicamer, buamer is the rough Irish translation of 'Vendi Vidi Vici'
Olamer is Irish for 'we drank'
The phrase used to be painted on the U.C.G. Kayak clubhouse.
As mentioned before 'Pogue mo thoin' means 'kiss my ass' (also mentioned before that Luka knew <exactly> what it meant)
Every 'Rag Week', someone hoists a bicycle to the top of a flagpole. No one know who, or why.
Oh, and technically U.C.G.'s official title is now 'National University of Ireland - Galway', but it'll always be 'UCG' to me.

Part VII

Part IX

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