T'S been long established that "getting there is NOT half the fun". And once there, renting a car is emerging as far more of a challenging hurdle than previously.

Long gone are days when the advertised price had anything to do with the actual price. Double that figure . . . and in some cases triple it and you'll be getting closer. Where you travel has a great deal to do with what you can expect. For the most part, we've encountered minimal problems in the US or destinations like Spain, Portugal, Switzerland or England.

Ireland is a major exception which has often presented trouble. And the mere suggestion that you might consider driving into Italy or the former Eastern Bloc brings an immediate "iron curtain" or additional rules, regulations and limitation of vehicles permitted. That's because theft presents a major problem in those areas.

But first, let's start with the closer-to-home problem, one warned about just after Hurricane Katrina swept ashore, but quickly pushed out of headlines in a world where news flashes by briefly in three- minute slices, soon to be relegated to the back burner. Unlike newscaster Paul Harvey's "rest of the story", the unpleasant end seldom gets covered.

We'd reserved a confirmed SUV for Phoenix pick-up in mid-November and keys handed to us were for a van. Bound for the Navajo Nation and Four Corners Country, we needed a four-wheel-drive and were told by the disinterested counter woman none was available.

Interestingly, another traveller we met on Budget's shuttle bus from the airport terminal had complained they'd just tried to push one on him. Holding firm, the manager was finally convinced to find one.

My brother Jim noticed immediately it had Louisiana licence plates, 30,000 miles on the speedometer and an unpleasant interior odour. Reports at hurricane time had warned toxic flood-damaged cars were being hustled around the country and be on the lookout for them.

Jim opened the hood (bonnet), found the engine clean, then examined the undercarriage . . . okay. But sitting in the car, the odour became so overwhelming my eyes burned. My reaction to chemicals is like sending a canary into a mine.

Finally, closer inspection revealed severe stains under the seat in a place impossible to remove. Appraised of those facts, the manager was suddenly able to come up with an SUV with only 2,000 miles on the speedometer.

Frequent auto renters find there is one question often asked overseas a high percentage of times. Regardless of the fact you have reserved a guaranteed automatic shift car, perhaps even prepaid it and certainly have a confirmation number, they will ask, "Do you really need an automatic?" and try and talk you down to a much less expensive shift car.

is, in some locations they're often very short of automatics . . . in other words, reserving you something they don't have, just like overbooking a plane. That's one of the reasons renters sometimes drive off in an upgraded vehicle to fill that commitment . . . or other times you overhear such irate scenes at car rental counters.

Normally, if you hold fast such problems can be resolved . . . but not always. On one such incident on Malta, another journalist and myself had to limp around the island a few days in a collapsing shift car neither of us was used to driving, one that left a trail of leaking oil behind.

It could best be described as a "beater". There's no question The Knights of Malta Grand Master, who had invited us to his historic palace for a private visit, could hear us coming with more sound effects than a brass band.

Unfortunately, we had no other alternative . . . it was accept their only car or nothing. The same thing happened at Taba, Egypt en route into the Sinai. It had been a chaotic challenge just getting through from home to the Taba Hilton by telephone to reserve an automatic car to drive to St. Catherine's Monastery yet again.

Once at Taba, of course, there was no automatic as promised and again it was take it or leave it. But when you do have an alternative, hold firm! Don't be pushed around. They've overbooked, taken your money, it's their fault.

You're going to be driving in a foreign country two or three weeks and you only drive an automatic at home ? in our case have absolutely no familiarity with a shift car. What form of relaxation is that?

We're often at Frankfurt Airport where they usually attempt to play that game. It's easier to draw a determined line in a First World country when told a confirmed, reserved car is not available. On one forgettable occasion, the German counter man dug his heels in as though re-enacting the Battle of the Bulge when he told us our confirmed car was unavailable.

Lawyer Jim, however, used the same cool, civilised but totally unbending approach that served him so well in many courts, as well as the Supreme one. No wonder our father wanted us both to go to law school. Jim very quietly outlined his legal contract rights as the German country man's blood pressure escalated. Within the hour, a Mercedes arrived with seven miles on the speedometer. Obviously brand-new, it was their problem and an episode that should teach them a lesson. We were heading into high mountain country with lots of winding roads, challenging terrain ahead. No place for an amateur to learn how to shift gears.

It was certainly an improvement over a previous Frankfurt rental when we pulled away from the airport only to realise the speedometer didn't work. Turning back to the airport, the rental agent tried to talk us into keeping it. "Just keep up with traffic," they argued.

We once got the same routine there when a gas gauge didn't register except on empty. Doesn't anyone check these things before sending vehicles out?

Here we are only a week after St. Patrick's Day, an occasion to be celebrating all things Irish . . . and, indeed, it's a destination we've so often enjoyed. So it seems unfortunate to have to report our worst car-rental experience in years occurred on last year's trip to Ireland.

On reflection, we recalled all of our many previous car rentals there had been reserved for us by others, so we'd avoided complications. Often on pre- or post-options involving journalist conferences, we've prepaid a fee and simply picked up a car.

On one occasion, we said we'd make our own arrangements, but the Irish Tourist Board insisted on our using its "preferred" supplier . . . and it turned out costing far more than if we'd done it ourselves.

This time we called Auto Europe, the US agency we regularly used for overseas car reservations. As consolidators, it deals with most rental firms and comes up with what we've found are the best pricing for the size car we prefer. One trip it could be Hertz, another Avis, Europcar and so on. This time it was a local Irish agency called Murray Europcar.

The mood in Dublin's arrivals car rental hall was as a bit like a bazaar, with bedlam in full force . . . counter agents waving to motion you over to their empty counter. There also seemed to be a higher than normal level of argumentative conversations drifting from various counters.

"What do you mean I can't have theft insurance? Do you automatically assume I'm senile because I'm 70?" is one that made me turn and attempt to eavesdrop on the man who had said it. But that one was soon drowned out by another voice at the Avis counter complaining: "You're telling me I can't rent that size car because I'm 65 years old!?"

It was no picnic at Murray Car rental either and if we knew what was ahead, we'd have cut our losses and moved elsewhere even if part of it was prepaid.

Travellers familiar with renting vehicles overseas know it's an experience that can be totally flawless . . . or in some places beset with complications. Our counter reservationist was grim and unsmiling . . . any Celtic threads in her personality had long since unravelled.

Because we'd made such a profitable and sizeable purchase on euros when they first became available (88 cents compared to 1.24 last spring) we'd asked if we could pay the portion not already prepaid in euros when the final bill was presented in Dublin. Answer was yes.

As we've mentioned here before, it's important not just to depend on CDW, but also inquire about Super CDW in Europe, which costs between 11 and 23 euros daily, but protects travellers from all kinds of deductibles not encountered in the US. An Auto Europe representative at press time indicated it's getting more difficult to get re-insurance in Ireland.

Thank goodness we did because that extra insurance covered all complications from the accident that occurred in Ballyconnell. Although our car suffered very little damage, it did need replacement. First complication was Murray's insistence we come from County Cavan at Northern Ireland's border, all the way down to Dublin to pick up a replacement. Super helpful Ballyconnell police solved that by insisting since Murray was coming up with an empty hauler to pick up our car, why not bring a replacement?

yahoo driver who delivered it came racing in, breaking limbs from trees on Kilcorby Log Cabin's beautifully landscaped grounds, smashing the side mirror . . . and the car, although adequate, was scratched and beat up. So Jim immediately called Dublin's manager to apprise him of its condition so we wouldn't be charged for damage we hadn't caused. They had arbitrarily revoked the Super CDW insurance.

At turn-in, we again had to deal with a counter clerk suffering from PDD (Jim's trademarked Personality Deficit Disorder ? meaning they don't have any) and were not allowed to pay in euros.

Jim studied the credit card bill to see that it was as agreed and we flew home. Surprise . . . when the credit card bill arrived, there were several hundred dollars of additional unexplained charges.

Thus began a protest that lasted several months and reached such a level of aggravation that we were sorry we didn't just pay it, walk away, and forget the whole thing.

A very long multi-page letter had to be sent to Auto Europe and the credit card company to explain it all. Conversations worked their way up the chain of command, and along the way a number of employees confided they have more complaints about Ireland car rentals than anywhere else.

Finally, a credit for those overcharged hundreds appeared and it turned out it was entirely thanks to Auto Europe, which absorbed the overcharge. Murray, now nine months later, had yet to respond to Auto Europe's queries and billing for the credit . . . absolutely incredible.

It confirmed what we'd already decided. A depressing proportion of Irish car rental companies are tinkers, gypsies, knackers . . . all Irish terms which translate into "very undesirable with questionable or total lack of ethics".

At least our result was better than that of an American we met while staying at a County Monaghan country estate. He'd rented and prepaid for a Hertz automatic and been forced to accept a shift which he'd never driven.

And frankly, although we were all set to return again this spring, we're wondering if we ever want to go back to Ireland again with a rented car.

l Hilton Hotels scorn Navajo culture