Stage thirteen: Cushendall to Bangor…Guantanamera/Rip This Joint/Won’t Get Fooled Again!

In a pattern that has become all too prevalent of late, my host allowed me to decimate whatever milk and cereal stocks that they had before setting-off on the last stage to Bangor, my hometown. Bruce, there’s a song for you right there: what do you mean, too late? Anyways…

Looks like legalised hooliganism!

Quiet roads…nonsense like this will be missed.

Not sure which village this was taken from, but it’ll do.

Today’s finale was planned to be the shortest at 65 miles and not much vertical, in the hope of finishing in Bangor, collecting my bike packing stuff from the acco that we rolled away from 13 days previously and then training it up to Belfast and to check-in to my Prem Inn. Yes, training it: I ain’t cycling no more! To be honest, the A2 that runs directly between Bangor and Belfast is amongst the most cyclist unfriendly roads in the whole of the northern hemisphere, so risking it once was enough for this bottler, hah-hah!

Larne, was it? Dunno.

Defo Carrickfergus Castillo!

There was some kind of cycle route into Belfast…traffic mental as you’d expect.

As good as it got! The number of times I’ve bombed along that stretch of M-way into the city…

Niles and Frasier innit? Dave and Goliath!

And in today’s mental fact: behold the field where Rihanna shot part of the video for her song, ‘We Found Love’ back in 2011. The farmer gave permission initially but when he saw what m’lady was almost wearing, went a bit fundamentalist and called a halt to proceedings. And that was the last we heard from her. You wot mate?

Got back to where we started in Bangor, 13 days and 1300 miles ago. Collected my bike packing (read: one giant polythene bag) and legged-it to the train station…

Blogger is playing-up again (no way can it ever possibly be user error, ahem…) so photo captions are missing. However I reckon you can piece together the steps above, all you budding Miss Marples out there! The Duke Of York was the pub of choice for the first Guinness Of The Day™, and it was a good one. Mind you, they nearly all are…in this, Ireland does excel!

So that’s that then. I’ll miss the daily messages on the socials which cheered me no end, so thank you for that. The scenery was unbelievable in places, the people overwhelmingly onside and we got to the five-figure amount that will help Cure Leukaemia. A win, no doubt about it. It may sound trite to repeat it again but thank you so much for donating and supporting: in a Sesame Street style, this Tour de Ireland was brought to you by the number 10,000, Guinness, Soreen and Tayto!

Just two more regular items of business remain, the stats and the tune…well tunes really, as I reckon we need a medley to get this job done!

First number was on my internal jukebox today as the miles ticked-by on that wonderful coast road…it could well be today’s ear-worm for you. No, no thanks are necessary…’Guantanamera’!

Second choice has to be a Stones number. Today’s ride was for a guy by the name of Kyle, who is an American fan of theirs. He very kindly donated early doors and the reason was because his wife of 17 years passed away in May because of this awful disease. Thank you Kyle and all the best, man…

And the final word goes to this bunch of Wholigans…cheers!

ps Anyone wanna buy a bike? Hardly used. Long MOT…

pps Anymore for anymore? 

https://www.justgiving.com/page/irelandforgeoff

Stage twelve: Moville to Cushendall…Do The Strand!

The hosts were good enough to let me set about their breakfast supplies way before their cafe opened, so they may be needing to replenish their Weetabix and Cheerios stocks quicker than they anticipated, hah-hah! The weather was as advertised: showery bs but blue skies and winds outta the north. Out of the sun, it was not warm…

Moville sits on the Foyle estuary…gotta be teeming with all sorts.

I appreciated the occasional cycle path to Derry probably more than I did the fantastic rainbow: the road was busy with everything steaming into the city.

Snigger.

Wait..wut…where you going? Don’t panic- there’s a chance of some scenery…

I had zero time to spend in D/LD, but it is also on the list to revisit slow-time. Until then, the mission was to get through Coleraine and then to Portstewart and all stations east…

Crossing the bridge north of D/LD.

The dyansty, hah-hah!

Plenty of rollers until Coleraine. Character building, apparently. I don’t want a character!

Eventually made Portstewart and there was indeed some scenery…blimey! Zero apologies for the slew of similar photos, but it was all too wonderful!

Portrush east strand…

You best believe it!

It was 12 years since I’d been this way and the flawless air (albeit moving swiftly) meant everything looked a little more special. I could barely pedal 300 yards without stopping for another photo. At this rate I wouldn’t see Cushendall by midnight, hah-hah! Tactical decision made: take your time mate, you don’t see this nonsense everyday. So what if you’re an hour later than usual?

Dunluce Castle is as good a spot for a tube replacement: tiny wire had embedded itself…

Stopped by, but no time for tours etc..

See above.

Best thing about Bushmills? Chips avec le sauce du curry. Bon!

Time was ticking and there was a big ticket item on today’s list: The Giant’s Causeway. It was gonna take some time, which was evaporating pronto. So I headed there…blimey but their visitor’s centre was doing brisk business. Depending on who you asked, you got a different answer as to whether you could cycle down to the stones. In the event, some friendly guide said no drama, follow one of the transit buses down because they cut a swathe through all the punters walking the Kilometre to the stones. Genius!

Carry on follow that bus!

They really are all that and a bag of (curry) chips: would be special to be there early on a winter’s morning…anyway, it was now a case of making as much haste as the remaining 20 lumpy miles would allow, all the way to Cushendall.

I call BS! Can still see it.

No drama and I rolled into Cushendall just before 6pm, very much looking forward to dinner. My B&B owner recommended strongly booking for the restaurant a few doors down, such was the demand in the small town. He wasn’t wrong!

Looks even more violent than hockey!

Tonight’s acco.

Was ready for both of these brews.

So it was a fantastic day, complete with some challenging weather and a fair whack of climbing. As ever, let’s make with the numbers…

And the tune of the day still sounds as though it could be released last week and it would still sound dynamite!

Stage eleven: Gortahork to Moville…Wichita Lineman!

Despite assurances when I checked-in that there’d be some scran available when I showed my face at 0620 the following morning, you never quite believe it. Well, now I’m a believer! Various cereals and tea and toast all a go-go…get in er, get gone!

This absolute beauty was waiting to say hello after only 5 miles…wow!

Couldn’t care less it the weather had a word.

Wot he said.

Seriously, this kinda thing oughta be part of the National Curriculum and NHS!

I didn’t expect such a treat early-doors but after 15 miles you’re back into slightly more normal surroundings and trundling on to Letterkenny (Ireland’s tidiest town in 2015, lest anyone forgets) in increasingly rubbish weather.

Pretty comfortable armchair for early elevenses at Letterkenny. Rocking a Mocha.

This is how dreich it was: even the locals were sheltering!

The objective for today was to reach Malin Head which is the most northerly point on the mainland. It wasn’t gonna give up without a struggle though: between the wind, rain and gradients it had a decent defence.

Too soon, too soon!

There are two ‘orrible climbs protecting MH…this one is merely a nuisance. Wot headwind, hah-hah!

Right then: get the photo, look around, sod-off. #sorted

It is a helluva landscape though…maybe not one for softies like me though.

Okay, job done? Well, sorta…now to retrace about 10 miles to a spot where I hid my panniers, as I it would’ve been too grim to lug them up as well. Result! There they are and away we go to tonight’s acco in Moville!

Used to seeing sheep at the side of the road, but cows? Why not indeed!

#acceptable

I welcomed any downhill, whether lethal to cars or not.

Was going with a different blog song until I saw this poor sod!

Don’t care if it is a tad on the basic side of things…only here for 14 hours. #movealong

This was a more difficult day than I bargained for: maybe I sorta reckoned that being near to the end of the challenge, somehow things would just happen and that would be that. Nah, no way Pedro. So that’s what made this day a bit more special than others…that, and the donations that keep pushing us to very nearly £10k. I’d love to say that tomorrow’s route was nailed-on: I do know where I’ve gotta finish…it should have a couple of sights along the way. I hope!

Rosato’s bar was the spot: ace grub and Guinness. Oh, and iced water…cheers!

Not in any immediate rush to do that again, hah-hah!

And so to today’s blog tune- an absolute belter from Webb & Campbell. Just perfect…good night!