I was burnt out. I’d spent the last three years attempting to walk two paths: my passion, creating automotive media, and the other (the one that paid my bills), selling real estate. My days were long, and the things I loved were becoming harder to enjoy. I started to wonder if the juice was worth the squeeze. When my partner Kiera suggested we take a week-long trip to disconnect, it was met with a “Hell yeah”.
It’s been over a year since we hopped on the flight to Ireland, but I knew this was a story I didn’t want categorized by an algorithm. When I saw the announcement for Backroads, I couldn’t imagine a better outlet.
Our story begins on the grassy plains southwest of Dublin. My partner and I stopped to admire the incoming storm. We were to execute a five-day loop of Ireland’s southern coast, and I was stoked. Having read many Speedhunters articles by Cian Donnellan and Patty McGrath over the years, I knew there was some epic driving to be had. That being said, I was unsure of the tool we brought.
Our rental car was a SEAT Ibiza. At first glance, not so epic. Its 1.0L three-cylinder engine produced a whopping 95hp, with 0-60mph arriving… tomorrow. On paper, it was underwhelming, and my American-power-loving brain wrote it off immediately. However, it did have one redeeming factor: three pedals and a five-speed gearbox.
Despite my pre-conceived notions, I grew quite fond of the Ibiza once behind the wheel. Its size, soft suspension, and simple setup made it easy to live with, and proved to be quite chuckable as curves became more frequent. Clear of the city and off the main motorways, the SEAT’s lackluster power actually became an unorthodox advantage.
Ireland’s B-roads are tight, technical, and bumpy, making what would be a normal Sunday cruise into a pseudo rally stage. The ability to use all of the Ibiza’s power, while being under the speed limit, was quite invigorating. The proximity of the hedging gave an increased illusion of speed, encouraging me to heel-toe every downshift and smash the throttle every chance I could. No traffic, great views, and a slow car driven fast; I was having fun with a car again.
To my surprise, it didn’t seem like anyone else was. Over the course of a few days, I could count the number of enthusiast cars I saw on one hand. With B-roads like this, where were all the car people?
A few weeks before our trip, some late-night doom scrolling netted a discovery: The LZ Tour was coming to Ireland, and its Mondello Park stop had ‘mysteriously’ intersected with the last leg of our loop. We were going.
I didn’t intend to ‘work’ that week, but I still brought my camera to capture some moments. There proved to be many: The hidden gems of Ireland’s car scene had risen from the shadows and been brought into the light (or rain in this instance). From JDM superstars to niche European sub-models, we had stumbled upon a choice sample of Ireland’s car scene. With so many of these cars not being available in the US, I was a kid in a candy store.
It was a melting pot of automotive imports, and the stands were absolutely packed. While seemingly a minority in day-to-day life, there is undoubtedly a large group of people in Ireland who are excited by cars. It felt like a movement.
I don’t know much about Ireland’s vehicle import process, but I can’t imagine owning one of these cars is easy – physically or financially. Their commitment to this passion is commendable and undoubtedly a battle. One thing was for sure: the scene they created was beautiful, and I had a massive smile on my face.
So I asked myself again: was the juice worth the squeeze? From where I stood, it certainly looked like it.
Even with the grey and blue tones with the rainy weather, the scenery at this event is gorgeous what a spectacular location to bring a great diversity of cars to the show