The travel bug can force you to make irrational decisions. I found myself trying to feed my travel addiction and not worrying about the consequences. All I needed was to quench the thirst.

I was not alone in my travel adventures. My boyfriend Mike and one of our best friends, DJ, were my accomplices. When we arrived back in the UK after months of traveling Europe and DJ decided to head to Ireland, we would not, under any circumstances, be left behind. We were definitely putting ourselves into debt but could not break the trio and so our decision to ferry over to the Emerald Isle was made. It was one of the best decisions we have ever irrationally made.

We went the cheap route and decided to bus to Ireland. Yes, I know it is in fact an island but there are evil things called ferries, which we learnt about the hard way. You’d think after my Croatian experience I would have learned - alas I had not.

The bus option proved to be an interesting choice despite it taking a good 13 hours. The fun started as soon as we pulled out of Victoria Coach Station. A British local had boarded the bus and obviously had a few tots beforehand. He proceeded to verbally abuse everyone and cause quite a ruckus onboard. We found it quite amusing; granted we were sitting at the back of the bus, up close and personal I doubt it would have been as entertaining. When we reached the port they staged a customs intervention. We all disembarked and walk through a corridor; there they arrested him for drunk and disorderly behaviour, much to the relief of everyone onboard. Quite a start to our journey - never a dull moment in the daily lives of travelers.

We eventually arrived in Dublin in the wee hours of the morning and made our way to the departure point for our Paddy wagon adventure. It was a trip around Northern Ireland and the Republic. Our first stop that morning was the Guinness Factory. Anyone who visits Dublin inevitably arrives there at some point. Our guide decided it would be a good idea to introduce us to it early.

The Irish are infectiously passionate people, who tell the most amazing stories. Every story is based on some historical event; quite a substantial amount of spice is added, but what would a good story be without a little spice?

There are two distinct sides to these charming people: Catholics and Protestants. Now, for anyone else religion is a personal choice. Not for the Irish. You have to be one or the other, you cannot just be. It defines you. Whether you are an avid church-goer or not, you are Catholic or Protestant. As a foreigner we are only informed about their issues through media channels. I was under the impression that the tension and turmoil was religiously related. Only once on the Isle did I uncover the truth. It is not a religious war; religion is the dividing line. Northern Ireland wants to be part of Britain, Oliver Cromwell is its hero and its people are predominantly Protestant. The Republic of Ireland wants to be its own entity, Oliver Cromwell is the devil and its people are predominantly Catholic.

I am simplifying 400 years worth of history but that is the gist of it. I should have known better, coming from South Africa where news is sensationalised and never features internationally unless it is negative. I felt somewhat akin to the Irish in being misrepresented but was intrigued by their history, attitudes and culture.

We had a little Irish conflict within my boyfriend, as he is a distant descendant of Cromwell as well as a Catholic. Believe me, we kept the association with Cromwell close to our chests whilst in the Republic. If Mike were Irish he would have a severe identity crisis and may have possibly been stoned.

There were a few things that we could not avoid on our trip. Firstly, Guinness - it is their national pride. It is the first thing you are introduced to, and is everywhere from pints to steak and Guinness pies. It is delicious. Secondly, the beautiful Irish singing and dancing. Every evening from about 9-ish the pubs buzz with tunes and tapping. It is a wonderful experience and it is no wonder that the Irish are such lovable people. They are inclusive and anything is a reason for an occasion. Thirdly, the Irish accent. It feels as though you are being sung to. I wish you could buy one - if that was possible you would definitely find Sam McGregor with one. I found it very difficult to leave this nation behind; they burrowed deep into my heart.

We traveled from city to city, village to village and lived their history. We had freakishly good weather and made some fantastic friends. One moment you are cruising through lush countryside and then you are standing on coastal cliffs. We were even lucky enough to see Scotland from the shores of the leprechaun land.

I felt a sense of home in the Republic of Ireland and will hopefully make my way back there someday. Luckily the bug bit me or else I would never had a chance to fall in love with this exquisite land and its people.

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