The Wild Atlantic Rip Off

I’ll begin by stating the obvious. I’m Irish and I love Ireland. I prove my devotion by holidaying in Ireland several times a year. I particularly enjoy our annual family retreat to Kerry, my favourite part of the country and where I’ve spent every summer since I was a bald boiled egg of a baby. But I have to say it — Ireland is a rip-off. I thought we’d been chastened by all that Celtic Tiger mess, that we had woken up with mascara down our faces and said never again, but no, we’re still charging as much as we can for as long as we can get away with it. It starts on a weekend away in Wicklow when my American friend refuses to pay over €5 for a bowl of porridge. Get over it, I say, this is Ireland, but it makes me think. A few weeks later I’m travelling through Killorglin with my mother. We make a pit stop and after ordering an Americano and a piece of cake to take away, I gaze mystified at the small change from my tenner. Welcome to Kerry, my mother says nonchalantly when I tell her I’ve been robbed. I think Ireland’s lost the run of itself again, I say. This is confirmed when I arrive in Kerry and decide with a bunch of my cousins that we want to take the boat tour out to the Skellig Islands, a trip we did as kids that has become famous due to a little-known movie called Star Wars. I find an old flier with an email address for a boat operator and write saying five of us would like to take the trip. The next morning I received a perplexing reply saying while they are happy to answer customer enquiries “as a common courtesy”, due to the high volume of emails they receive I will need to transfer €16 into a Paypal account if I wish to get any “further correspondence” or be put on a waiting list. Fuming, I tell my cousin. “Wait till you see how much they’re charging down the craft shop for Chewbacca masks”, she says.