“You have arrived at your destination”, my GPS Susan keeps uttering. However, I would miss the only number I was looking for, 31 to be exact. I continued down my first “Irish lane” experience, where a wall sits dangerously close to your left and cars cram in on the right. You have nowhere to go but straight until you meet the regrettable dead-end. At the end of my dead-end were two saviors. Jesus doesn’t wear simple clothing. In Dublin, he wears a nice suit. Two gentlemen in suits kindly help me out of my pickle of a first driving experience in Ireland. Fresh off the boat, I know I probably Continue Reading