As unconventional as last night’s tented insanity was, and despite the temperature dropping in a Baltic fashion, it was an okay night. Aided with two duvets, mind!
No breakfast was a given, so it was up and away into downtown New Ross (a decent looking small town…way too obvious to stay there, hah-hah!) to find something. A petrol station fitted the bill and it was then game on, staying on main roads for probably 60 miles. The wide shoulder and gentle drags are all good!
My neighbours came to see me off the premises.
A decent starter for ten!
JFK not forgotten.
Some recent build around Waterford. Never saw another cyclist on it…
No charge pour moi!
Long old descents which need to be paid for by long old drags!
There was a run down to Dungarvan which looks like a terrific spot: if time wasn’t an issue, you’d definitely wanna tarry for a while. Next time, defo…
A muriel on the side of a 7-11. Provider of excellent bananas. Bueno!
Dungarvan. Another time, right?
You cannot whack some span-action!
Up to this point the weather had been benign: a south/south-westerly wind mainly and only the very odd drop of rain. After lunch, Ireland introduced itself properly, hah-hah!
By 5pm I was drenched: the wind got up plenty and I reckon this was a warm-up for what might well be heading my way! On the plus side, I got my first shout-out: a transit van driver in the opposite direction beeped and shouted some encouragement. Nice one!
Horizontal dreich. Dunno if that’s a phrase in currency but it oughta be!
More spannage ahoy…
Okay, *now* the tour begins?
As previously, the final ten miles took too long but I found tonight’s acco with no drama. The hostess is a bit of a character: an Italian lady with her own way of doing things. I bribed her 10 Euros to (hopefully) wash and dry my *slightly* grubby Lycra. Who knows what size kit I’ll be in tomorrow…
Saturated.
The eagle-eyed amongst you will have spotted that tonight’s acco favours the more traditional walls, windows, doors and ceiling arrangement, hah-hah!
Different kind of saturation. Just the one. Loadsa folks from the USA about- loving the Guinness too!
Today’s stats. No trees uprooted, hah-hah!
It is so wonderful to see the total edge closer to £8,500: writing ‘thank you’ doesn’t really cover it, I know. Tune in tomorrow and we’ll see where we have gotten to…cheers!
I so did not want to leave my bed, let alone the acco this morning…not least because the bed was beyond comfy, but there was a decent south/south-westerly making its presence known. My hostess, Mai, was cool with me settling amongst the breakfast buffet at 0615: she even offered scrambled eggs, when she appeared not long after!
I declined but the lady insisted on making me a doorstep ham sandwich for later…just the best!
Headwind and cold. My favourite!
Good luck folks!
Lads- you’re not even trying!
No.2 in an occasional series: where I’ve had a Saga Stop!
Fight, fight!
I won’t pretend this was anything other than a slog: progress was glacial, scenery was meh until later and nobody seemed to be happy to be out and about! To be filed under ‘Get it done’!
Lovely…
Er, how’s that work then?
Good work!
It was a case of eating and drinking regularly and not worrying about stopping for a few minutes along the way…it ain’t gonna matter in the grand scheme. There were a couple of curveballs, route-wise…but we’d expect nothing less, hah-hah!
Gary Garmin said go right ahead. Didn’t look quite right…
Deserted or work-in-progress? Bit odd…
Civilisation just outside, hurrah!
As enjoyed a few hours later!
As I said, this was a day to gain more yards, however slowly. All I wanted to do was roll into my acco for tonight. More on that in a minute…
The real inspiration!
Listen here Mr Garmin- you 100% on this?
Hello sunshine!
One more mile and my lovely acco awaits!
After 10 hours and 110 slow miles, I roll into tonight’s address. No host, nobody. I do see three Wig Wams pitched, as well as farm buildings. I message the host and she says mine is tent two. She ain’t on site to meet and greet and answer my daft questions. One is not amused! Mind you, there are a couple of cool horses in the neighbourhood!
After choosing this, I can no longer be assumed to be of sound mind. #scenes
Even they’re disgusted, hah-hah!
Normal service resumed…cheers!
Thanks for sticking with this so far…there’s more nonsense imminent. Goodnight all!
The people have spoken, and I have ignored them once again- hence a new blog for a new tour! No wait, where are you going? I’ll take it as read that you know what this jaunt is all about…well, you must do otherwise you wouldn’t be here, right? Right! Okay, I’ll bring you up to speed quick-time…
I was fretting about whether EasyJet would accept my bike wrapped in the old traditional polythene bag- I was booked to fly from Liverpool to Georgie Best Aeroporto and was quite keen to have the bike arrive as well.
I emailed their Customer Services and the CEO (Dolph Lundgrum, or similar) with a photo of what I was on about, but didn’t expect to hear anything back. Three days later and on the eve of me flying out, I get a phone call from Ivan Drago’s PA and the lady informs me that yes, the bike shall be accepted. Woo-hoo!
Arriving at Johnny Moondog Airport, the check-in staff were happy with it and even Security were keen to get it through their outsize scanner. Wonders never, etc…
Carry on follow that Airbus!
Brought to you in association with…
Thank Gawd it arrived relatively unscathed.
Last night’s acco was er, perfunctory so I was glad to be up and away by 0715 this morning and into a fresh breeze but clear skies. To be honest, I was lucky today as the wind was only ever across and then a 3/4 headwind and with almost zero precipitation. The same cannot be said of tomorrow, hah-hah!
The most easterly bit on the mainland…Burr Point.
I had blocked-out any memories of just what a dead weight the panniers are, and the effect they have on the bike’s behaviour. Still, all that joy came flooding back pronto. In fairness to all today’s drivers, they were very considerate with only a couple of close passes. Bueno!
In order to steal as many yards as possible today (one for my ex-colonial football fans there), the plan was to use a couple of ferry journeys. This worked fine, save for the hanging-about…and it’s always ace to get on the water. No bar though…
Lovely paintings, just before you get on a ferry…
Bye-bye Portaferry...hello Strangford!
Er, Downpatrick was it?
Defo Newcastle for a quick alfresco lunch.
Pablo moonlighted over here occasionally.
And down to Greencastle for another ferry. Lost more time waiting around but that was always the risk.
“Boss, Boss! The ferry!”
Just married. Not on the ferry, like…
Looks lovely but let me assure you, t’was a bit Baltic!
It is an amazing area…wanna return and explore a wee bit.
That left about 35 miles before stumps: the last ten miles seemed to go forever…cue cries of ‘We know how you felt’ from anyone reading this, hah-hah!
What’s with all this Johnny Foreigner metric guff? <starts chanting “Divide by 8, multiply by 5”>
Good on you!
Wouldn’t mind, but there’s still some distance left…
“No, we are not doing f**king Stonehenge!”
At last Drogheda was in sight and I was plenty glad. Tonight’s acco is probably the best I’ll see on this tour: everything immaculate and it works…plus the host even dried my washing! Tripadvisor five stars etc…
So that only leaves a couple of items of business:
Where were you?
Too many stats? Thought so.
The other thing is to dedicate this opener to everyone who has donated to Cure Leukaemia…you are all dancers and I owe you a beer. Or several!
Sort of isotonic innit?
The final thing is today’s tune: my internal jukebox played a raft of old bollocks today, but this sorta seems apt. I started out from where I began. Or some old cobblers like that. Macca and co., when you’re ready…
