Jonny McCambridge: Facing my phobia – troublesome toll booths and wrong turns driving in Dublin

"Dublin.”

"Yes, I know that, but where in Dublin?”

"I dunno....just Dublin,” I answer with a shrug.

I begin the journey. The world is a lot smaller than it used to be and a drive to the largest city on the island should really be routine. But it doesn’t seem that way.

Last night I had an anxious sleep with unpleasant dreams about troublesome toll booths. I fear the busy the city centre traffic, traversing the dizzying warren of roads while my car is being surrounded by swarms of lycra-clad cyclists to the point where I'm afraid to change lanes lest I ingloriously unseat one.

Today, I'm heading to the city to carry out an interview. I've programmed the location's address into the sat nav on my phone.

This trip, I have decided, is going to be the one which cures my phobia about driving in Dublin.

Just a few miles from the city, the sat nav buzzes into life. The voice tells me to take the M50 exit off the M1 motorway. I move into the far-left lane and manoeuvre as instructed.

Then, another instruction.

"After exiting the M1 stay in the right-hand lane towards the R139 and take the second exit at the roundabout towards Malahide.”

In truth, he could have told me this a bit earlier because I'm now wedged into the far-left lane in morning rush hour traffic and can't get across to get to the lane which takes me towards the roundabout. Instead, I'm trapped on the M50.

At once my brain seems to turn into blancmange and I'm infested by fears I'm going to be boxed in traffic until I end up in Cork or Galway. The sat nav senses the problem.

"Make a U-turn. Make a U-turn.”

I let this go the first couple of times. Then again....

"Make a U-turn.”

“I can't make a U-turn!” I roar defiantly. “I'm in the middle of the M50!”

The sat nav must be suitably chastened because he does not repeat the instruction. Instead he finds an alternative route which involves me coming off at the next roundabout and doubling back.

Before getting lost I was on course to be early. I'm still on schedule, but I can afford no more mistakes.

The sat nav guides me to a huge industrial estate. Every building seems to be modern and stylish, and all are without signs to aid identification. I slow my car down to a crawl to have a proper look. The roads are narrow and I notice that a large white van is looming in my rear view mirror. As my pace decreases, he begins to angrily sound his horn, forcing me to pull away again. I take a left turn to allow the van to pass, but it also turns left. Then I take a right. The van turns right. I try another left. The van turns left.

I slow down again to get my bearings. The van sounds his horn even louder. Eventually I manage to pull onto the footpath. As the van passes me I give a weak apologetic wave. The driver makes a more unpleasant gesture with his hand.

After stopping several people to ask for directions, I've found the right building. I'll just about make the interview on time if I can get a parking space quickly. But there are none to be found. I drive up and down narrow streets looking in increasing exasperation without success for a space. Moreover, every lamppost and building has a sign attached warning that vehicles will be clamped if they are illegally parked.

I spot an arrow-shaped sign which reads "Retail Parking”. I follow it and pull up outside a multi-storey building. I drive towards the entrance.

It's all narrow lanes on the ground floor and, surprisingly, there are only a small number of parking spaces, all of which are occupied. I am now running late, so when I see the ramp which leads up to the next floor, I head straight for it.

But it's desperately narrow, barely any wider than my car. As I ascend, glancing nervously in my wing mirrors, I'm muttering "How do they expect people to get their cars up here?”

The first thing I see at the top is a large green cross. It takes the smallest of moments to recognise this as the sign for a pharmacist, only slightly longer for me to think "Funny having a chemist in the middle of the carpark” and another moment to realise I've gone badly wrong.

I've driven my old car right up to the pedestrianised shopping concourse. Several startled shoppers stop to stare. I wave and smile in a way which I hope conveys the message that my gifts lie in other areas.

I begin reversing my car back down the narrow ramp. This would be a test of my driving skills on any day, but now my arms and legs feel like they're full of water. Somehow, I get back to ground level, drive out of the carpark and find a space nearby. There's a sign warning that cars will be clamped and I've no idea if I'm parked legally, but I'm too late to worry about it.

I run to the office where I see a man leaving through a glass door. I go to push through the same door, only to realise too late that it is secured with an electronic lock and I bump off it. A security guard inside wears a neutral expression as he points out the revolving entrance door, less than six feet away. I notice now there are four empty parking spaces at the front door and a little sign which says “Visitors”.

I’m just a few minutes late. My interview subject meets me with a handshake and a smile.

"Did you have any trouble finding us?”

“No….no trouble at all.”