Stage eight: Galway to Newfield…Wigwam!

My hostess was as good as her word when she said that I could get at the cereals from 6.30am: the lady also made me a scrambled-egg sandwich for the road. Sounds bizarre, right? It was more like a Tortilla Espanola but minus the spuds. I can overlook that infraction as it was immense!

I can forgive this twee cobblers as it is a class establishment!

And away from lovely Galway: defo on the return list.

Another day, another county! 

The landscape went through probably 3 or 4 changes today. Immense!

It was a dead-heat as to who was MVP today between the landscape and the weather. Bright sunshine, blue skies and mainly favourable winds were really appreciated…but, take a gander at what I had to pedal through. #thoughtsandprayers

Zero apologies for the photo bombardment but I took so many…without exaggeration, that 30 mile stretch was champagne cycling, and as wonderful as pretty much anywhere else that I’ve trundled through. Take a bow, Counties Galway and Mayo! 

He might have at least used an alias! #mojorisin

Please, do not zoom-in. #nightmares

The other mission for today was to try to meet a ‘work’ colleague who was over in Westport with some pals on an er, energetic weekend. It worked-out about as well as one could’ve wished given the personnel involved, hah-hah! It resulted in an early Guinness for someone…cheers Fiona!

After 20 minutes I was away with only 17 miles to go: as per, the last 5 seemed to drag in peu…

The captions for the photos aren’t playing nice, so the one above is in because we started in Bangor last Saturday at daft o’clock. Seems like an age ago- after reading this daily cobblers, you may very well agree, hah-hah!

Here’s tonight’s acco…super friendly and with a warning that they’ll have a band playing later. Madam, you could have a Motörhead trib and I’d sleep. Although I would listen to a few numbers first…

No sign of Bono at the time of scribbling (8.19pm). Praise be, hah-hah! So that leaves just the two items of business…stats and a tune.

Today’s stage is for Gary Galbraith, who is missed by so many people. He was a huge music fan, and while I was loving today’s scenery this Dylan instrumental kept playing. Gary loved Bob and he was pretty fond of this tune too. Cheers mate…

Stage seven: Ballybunnion to Galway…Take Me Home, Country Roads!

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…

Okay, until the same time tomorrow…I hope!

Stage six: Killorglin to Ballybunnion…Glory Days!

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!