Today’s stage didn’t look all that and a bag of chips on paper: reality bites/you don’t cycle on paper! I knew that there was no breakfast option, but I had a rare and inspired moment of forward planning as I walked back from dinner last night: stopped at a chippy for chips avec le sauce du curry. Trés bon, and perhaps it helped today?
The first mission was to catch the 0830 ferry from Tarbert to Killimer: as pronto a 15 miles as I could muster…
I make it with ten minutes to spare. In the event though…
Bet O.C. didn’t have to wait an hour…
Woo-hoo…let’s get on with it!
I didn’t have fog on my Irish weather bingo card, I must admit. The facilities at Tarbert were nil: I got as cold as I’ve been for a long time. There was a tannoy though- unfortunately the thing kept relaying maybe one word in three, and at different volumes so the net effect was more confusion. The other delayed punters were tourists mainly, with the USA and Germany well represented. I could’ve sworn that I heard ‘Is that Norman Collier?’, in German…
Just the one wind farm en route. Weren’t going hung-ho either, pleasingly…for me!
Don’t dis the Soreen. Got loads if you want some.
This was today’s landscape- rolling, rolling, rolling.
And this was amongst the larger of today’s carriageways!
Got assaulted by some lairy vegetation.
So today’s stage was made more tricky than it oughta have been by blind assumption that there’ll be somewhere along the way for me to get food and water. From mile 3 until mile 75 that assumption bit me, hah-hah! I was *this* close to knocking on some random civilian’s door to ask for water, when Google reckoned there’d be a petrol station 4 miles in the right direction. And there was! Even in the US, the longest section with zero stores was only 60 miles! Yeah, I can already hear you playing the World’s Smallest Violin…
Kilmacduagh Abbey. Thought it might be tonight’s acco, for a second…
If this was France, this bad boy would be a lifesaver! #eaupotable
Getting there. Used to be fields round here, y’know…
It was great to have a bus lane all to myself on the run-in to Galway: oh yeah, and a helping breeze too. Get in! Found the acco with no fuss and the hostess is top-notch. All except that doing my sainted laundry is not an option, hah-hah!
Water, reflections, I dunno!
Almost there, giving it some serious Van der Valk!
The penthouse suite awaits. Guaranteed I’ll whack my noggin on that ceiling, hah-hah!
Prior to embarking on a refuelling and rehydration mission. Cheers!
So the usual suspects remain: the stats and the tune…
A smidge under a ton…felt today though. #selfinflicted
There was only one number that kept on playing away, summing-up today’s rather poor lifestyle choices…
My acco was not accustomed to having their esteemed guests demanding* breakfast at ‘ungodly hour o’clock’, so they asked one of their faithful to come in early. When I heard this, I was mortified: turns out the truth is that the lady in question was only too glad to do so, as this meant she finished 30 mins earlier than she otherwise would’ve done! (*there was zero diva behaviour I promise!)
Goodbye Killorglin, with your odd goat statue type-thing!
It was a meh trudge for the first 25 miles and then the sun and some scenery happened.
Was ready for this artisanal doorstep. Very reasonably priced. For Monaco, hah-hah!
Next stop is at the furthest away bit. Precise navigation as per.
After 25 miles or so, I stopped for a coffee and sandwich in Dingle: possibly the most Irish town evah, and with quite a few visitors from the USA. Because it was gonna be a backtrack after seeing Dunmore Head (most westerly mainland point), I dumped my panniers with a local bike shop owner and enjoyed my new lightweight bike…albeit for two hours!
Never mind the colour, dig that smooth surface!
Luck was holding re the weather…
Get in…checkpoint number three!
Only six hours too soon! #denied
It’s all too wonderful!
Speed back to Dingle and remembered to collect my luggage. Joy!
FJ- lose the hardware.
No point in hanging about, so it was straight into the climb up to Connor’s Pass…5% up to 9% and you actually felt it! There was a bloke walking up it and he had an obvious limp, but it was him giving me plenty as I struggled past him! Blimey…
The summit is somewhere top-right…
Only ever see signs like this in Italy, France or Spain. Nice touch!
The view from the pass changed whichever direction you looked in. #weatherinnit
The downhill was chilly but immense!
It had been a wonderful day so far: after a nondescript opening, the journey to Dunmore Head was a joy. At the same time that I arrived, I got notification of a very generous donation from my ex-boss and her better half, hah-hah! This took us past £9k, so there was no choice: let’s go for ten. Aim high, right?
And CL bunged this on their socials. You never know, might get a donation from it?
After the terrific descent, I had that familiar sinking feeling from my front tyre…oh come on, the tube was brand new on Monday and a decent make. No clue as to why it failed, which is a concern. No matter: 15 mins and we’re back on the road.
Please let this be the final one of these…
Unfortunately that wasn’t the real issue. The front wheel had become more out-of-true each day…only a little at a time but noticeable. So much so that now that it caused the front disc to rub against the brake pads. And as much as I’d love to ignore this, it’ll only get worse…quickly, and of course I didn’t pack a spoke key. I Googled the names of bike repair shops in Tralee and set course. Twenty miles later and the first shop was snowed-under, so the second choice was about 5 mins away.
Go on maestro!
He was a character, but in a good way! He asked where I’d been (reckoned O’Connor’s Pass was the highest paved road in Ireland…cheers!), and where I was headed (Ballybunnion- don’t get your hopes up, hah-hah!). He gave it his best shot for 25 mins or so and did at least true it enough to stop the rotor rub. My problem is whether to chance it and hope that it doesn’t get worse again, or to try to find somewhere that is relatively on my route that’ll sell me a replacement. I still ain’t decided!
Ballybunnion luvs Bill Clinton. Of course you recognised him!
Tonight’s functional acco. Frankly, I could sleep standing-up.
Satisfactory 5 minute walk to decent grub and booze. Not too bad then!
Gertcha!
Today’s stats. Keep on, front wheel!
So there’s just one more item of business…the play-out music. Bruce has written cinematic anthems, introspective and tortured numbers, you name it…yet this song never fails to deliver. Go on!
My hostess Peggie was an absolute gem: laundered my gear with no dramas and insisted that she would be up and about to see me at 0615 for breakfast. Surely there ain’t enough money in the world to compensate for that sight, hah-hah! Oh yeah, she even made porridge for me too. For these kindnesses she is absolved for her Hallmark-inspired furnishing war crimes, hah-hah! Good on you Ma’am.
When I asked if it was raining, Peggie replied, “Not yet.”
In the event, I didn’t have to don my rain jacket at all today. One minor shower was about it, and a few spots here and there. Excellent! The winds were out of the south-west, as forecast. This meant no aggro apart from in the middle bit and I loved the helping hand towards tonight’s destination. Nice one.
And in today’s ‘You wot, mate?’ section…
Outrageous standards of scenery set early doors!
Some art gallery half-way up the first slog. No, no idea whatsoever. Fair play!
And lo! The first bit of naughtiness accounted for.
Satisfactory.
There’s always a descent to be enjoyed…although with damp surfaces it was steady as she goes. In any event, I almost always stop for at least a couple of photos somewhere. Speaking of which…
A cousin of the Wealdstone Raider, hah-hah!
Ho yus indeed!
The earliest known ELP and Van der Graaf Generator fan in Ireland.
Quit with the sights otherwise I ain’t getting nowhere fast.
After a quick Mocha stop, it was away westbound for 25 miles or so…and the winds could’ve been a sight worse for me. That said, it was a joy after lunch to finally make the inbound turn for Killorglin and feel that help. Bueno!
There’s always one, isn’t there?
Chrissie Hynde would’ve approved of these sausages rolls, such was their sausage:pastry ratio! Anyway, we’re back firmly in Team Tayto.
Quality fringe-work.
S’alright I suppose.
An old gag, but their disclaimer gave me a chuckle!
Ridiculous as it sounds but I was almost blasé to all the terrific scenery all around as the miles ticked-by, and various parts of me ached a little and just wanted to see the acco. That said, there was a surprise in Waterville…
Okay, always good to see a bit of CC…
Okay, so what’s the deal? Turns out he holidayed here a load, and was a popular addition!
Sorry- thought it said the birthplace of Daniel O’Donnell.
Only gotta put-up with this awfulness for another 10 miles or so…
Span time!
Alright Kerry- that’s enough showboating for today!
Tonight’s acco is a cut above: restaurant is fantastic and I may need to be winched on to the bike tomorrow, hah-hah! While we’re here and at the real risk of sounding like a stuck 45, thank you to everyone who has pushed the total past £8500. You are amazing and are helping those who need it. Two items of business remaining then…
Room to roam and make the whole gaff untidy!
Good things come to those who wait, yadda yadda! Gone all too soon…
Nah, I meant today’s stats and the Tune Of The Day! The internal jukebox kept jumping around but couldn’t decide, so we’ll have all three contendahs!
Would’ve shaken on that at 0715 this morning.
One for Geoff then…
Washed-up? Not a chance.
“Well I woke-up this morning and grabbed myself some porridge!” doesn’t quite fit.
