Day 43. Skerries - Dublin. 23.5 miles. 2 hours 14

I made it at 1315 today. Oliver, Alison, Graham & Alison and Eily, Conor, Murray & Polly were there to see me arrive. Cried like a baby for a few minutes then found a pub. Glorious sunshine. Don't know quite what I think about it all. notIt's great to be me again and wear some jeans and shoes without SPD cleats in the soles and NOT be the guy on the stupid bike anymore. Just off for a pizza now.

Don't forget the Criterion next Saturday the 16th for beers and pizza and laughing at my bizarre tan...

Oh, I'll fill the other days in later, but I guess old news is no news...

Rob, the Rothar Aird rider...

Day 42. 104.2 miles 9 hours

Posted by Mike on Rob's behalf.

"My first century. If you haven't sponsored me yet, now's the time!"

No, I don't know where he is either - at a guess, about 10-20 miles from Dublin. More news, etc....

Day 41. Portaferry - Annalong. 39.8 miles. 3 hours 48

Posted by Mike on Rob's behalf.

"More sun... Not exactly a tough gig on a day like today :-)"

More news when he's back online (or in your living room, whichever comes first...)

Day 40. Belfast to Portaferry. 52.3 miles. 4 hours 39

Posted by Mike on Rob's behalf.

"One of the nicest days since arriving. County Down gorgeous. 3 rides and I'll be in Dublin..."


If you haven't heard the details about Rob's "welcome back" drinks on Saturday 16 June, drop me a line. All friends welcome!

Day 39. Tourism in Belfast.

Lot's to see, like where my dad was born, where I used to live, Shankill etc...

Day 36. Rest day in Portstewart. Gale force winds, big hangover.

I woke to the sound I dread most on this trip. Strong winds. Not good. I was planning o seeing the Antrim coastline at a leisurely pace as there's so many things along there from Dunluce Castle, Bushmills, Giant's Causeway, the rope bridge, etc. I rolled over only for my phone to go off. It was Kerry. He'd offered to take me for breakfast and I was not out of bed yet. I slung my clothes on (let me tell you how sick of wearing the same clothes for 6 weeks I've become) and dragged the bike out for Kerry to have a ride on the thing. The gears and brakes have long since gone passed a servicable standard and I always worry for anyone fool enough to ride the damn thing, but Kerry seemed to enjoy himsel getting blown accross the road near the harbour well enough. I didtched the bike and went to Coleraine for an Ulster Fry.

An Ulster Fry. I could write a few pages on this treat. Fried soda bread, fried potato bread, fried pancakes, fried eggs, fried bacon and fried sausages. All fried. I never want another one as long as I live! my arteries clogged, I decided tat there was no way I was gonna ride in this weather. Kerry sails a 22 foot boat and rides a touring bike and confirmed my decision was a wise one... He dropped me at the Gian's Causeway (after I'd turned down Damian's kind offer of a loan of his scooter. I'd have take him up on it, but I've promised myself not to drive anything until I ge back home.) The Cuaseway was more impressive than I thought it would be. it's no place to walk in cycling shoes with metal cleats, as the basalt is slippy enough when it's wet to start with. My camera chose a great time to let the batery go flat. When rested on a rock to take my pic on the timer, the wind was so strong I had to dash and catch it as it got blown over. In fact, it was actually hard to walk there, but the place is so beautiful that I didn't mind getting a good soaking to marvel at this plave I've wanted to see for a very long time.

My rough guide book states it's hard to believe the place was created naturally. Well, only if you're stupid. The rock formations are clearly crystals, huge ones at that, but obviously natural, and incredibly beautiful. I'll definitely visit here again.

A taxi back to town before a nap, using Kerry's internet conection, and then a big night out at Ramore's and the Harbour pub in Portrush. Ramore's is a huge, busy place, but manages to serve truly tasty food while providin a great view over the harbour. I had chilli beef pasta and garlic poptatoes and left not a scrap. Kerry and his mates Robert and Steven would not even let me buy a pint all night. Thanks guys. Portstewart/Portrush goes right up there with Belmullet, Dublin, Grange and Letterkenny as nights out I'll never forget.

Oh, thanks to Ann for saying I seem English only in my accent. I think that's a compliment. Or is it?

Day 38. Cushendall - Glengormley. 49.7 miles. 4 hours 8 minutes

little wind, no rain, flat roads. A nice B&B last night, a good breakfast... You'd think I had nothing to moan about, wouldn't you... more to follow.

Day 37. Portstewart - Cushendall. 42.2 miles. 4 hours 35

Posted by Mike on Rob's behalf.

"Constant rain. Worst hills in the country at Torr Head. Had to get off and push both uphill and down. Tomorrow I see the place where I used to live when I was young. The chance of burning down a country skyline is remote, sadly. [No, I don't know what he's on about either. M] 10MPH average, I expect..."

More news when he's back online.

it's a lyric from a Killers Song Mikey. They're a popular beat combo...

Day 35. Derry - Portstewart. 43.2 miles. 3 hours 55

Leaving derry was easy. For a number of reasons, first of which was a signpost right outside the Travelodge. So, I we (Aidan & I) headed over the double-decker bridge to ride along the south bank of Lough Foyle towards Castlerock. A place I've wanted to see for a while as I've heard great things about the coastline from here East and also because I was booked into to talk to some kids at Hezlett School there about cycling and my trip. With this in mind, I left Aidan at Ballykelly while he filled his face. We'd been photographed at a petrol station by some local phot-journalist. Dunno if he'll sell the story. No that it maters much, as press doesn't generate much sponsorship.

Anyhoo, I head off towards Castlerock, and the views really are stunning. Mussenden Temple siting on the cliff top just near Downhill are just the first national Trust treasue along this stretch of coast. You really could spend a few days along here... anyway. I had to go uphill at Downhill. The irony...

At Hezlett school a few minutes later I found out I was to address the WHOLE school. Sheesh. about 120 kids were wheeled into the room and I was introduced and had to try and explain just why I'm doing this, and clearly, there really is no real reason why. There is no advantage, blah, blah.
I just about blagged my way through the next half hour talking about Cyclemagic, Ireland, Sustrans, Ian Paisley Junior and dogs.Nice surprise was a £50 donation from the school. Thanks Mr Campbell and Mrs Gilpin!

Next stop was Coleraine. I was passed by 2 columns of military Land Rovers, which gave me an excuse to use my best glaring face at the enclosed squaddies. Then I saw my first Union Flag in Coleraine it self. Hmmph. Now, I'm not a fan of cycle lanes, and ususly I don't use them, but they really are well thought out in Coleraine, and they did help me get through town quickly. Let's send Andy Salkeld over so he can see how it should be done...

Anyway. Portstewart is a lovely spot. It was bathed in Sun and everyone was eating icecream, miling around on the promenade and generally having summery seaside fun. I pulled up and got chatting with the Bond owners on holiday with their cute 3 wheeled cars.

An old boy talked to me for about 5 miutes, but his whole patter seemed to consist of 'I understaund'. He did point me at the best Icecream parlour in town so I toddled off to the allegedly famous Morelli's. It was good.

I got chatting to a couple with their wee baby in a bit. Damian had a scooter club tee shirt. Lyn who lives in Leicester is from Portrush just a few miles up the coast and rides a scooter so I asked if he knows her. Of course he did, has done for 20 years, and he's mates with her brother in law. It's a small world, and being a top bloke, he invites me over to his for a BBQ that night. Marvellous.

I check in at Rick's Causeway Coast hostel, and while it's not the most salubrious hostel on my trip, it was one of the most relaxed. Rick isn't a check-out time nazi, a bread head or a people-hater. Shame Malcolm in one of the other beds snored like a drain. Lovely bloke tho, but mate if you read this, try NOT to sleep on your back.

Back to Damian. He picked me up on his scooter and whizzed me up to his place. The little 2-stroke felt like a rocket after the tallbike. At his place were his Mother in law, His brother in law Connell (sp) and his wife Julie and blah blah. There was also quite a impressive motorbike collection, including an old RD500YPVS which had me reminiscing.

A marvellous feed and a couple of beers, thanks Damian & Alice, then we went off to the pub. You know the rest. I met a guy called Kerry, more about whom tomorrow. I also found out the squaddies were out in force cos the Queen had been in Coleraine for the day. Shame I didn't see her, I could have tapped her up for a bit of sponsorship. or got her on the tallbike. Then she realy could be your highness... boom boom.

Day 34. Malin Head - Derry. 39.2 miles. 4 hrs 8 mins

Right. I left Malin with a bit of a dicky tummy, no breakfast in me and a deadline to meet Mark Patterson, a presenter on Foyle FM, the BBC station for the Derry area at 3 pm.

First we had to head to Banba's Crown, the most northern point. Done. Steep, evil little hills that made me almost sick from the exertion. Nasty start to the day...

So, yet again, I had to split from Aidan and take the high road. I've long since worked out that heading across any peninsula is not really the easy option. There be hills that way, and of course, they always involve a long climb and a short fast downhill section, as it was today towards Quiggley's Point in intermittent drizzle, and the wind, which I shit you not, was now coming from the south. FFS! I know it's about pressure equalising, etc, and if it blows west for long enough, it has to blow east at some point, but it just seems to be in my face the whole time. Grrrr. However. I'm bored of typing so I'll be brief. After crossing the county line/border at Muff, yes, I know, all that gave away any sort of border crossing was the road signs changed to MPH and the petrol stations were all out of business as it's cheaper to buy fuel in the Republic.

The 'better' roads of the North just meant the drivers were more aggressive, with - sadly - just as many rally-driving-obsessed Civic and Impreza drivers with exhaust pipes bigger than a Ferrari... Roundabouts where 2 dual carriageways crossed forced me to dismount for the first time since Dublin because of a road system.

Entering Derry was a little odd. The signs just said 'Welcome to the Walled City' - nothing about (London)Derry. Almost desperate to skirt the whole name issue.

Maybe it's the easiest way. I dunno. Either way, Derry doesn't look like any part of Ireland I'd seen. It does LOOK like Britain. Like Scotland I guess. I made my way to the radio station where I was to be on after some child musicians and a young lad born with no lower jaw. Poor sod. He was quite funny tho', with his Steven Hawking voice generator thingie. I wish him all the best for his gruelling operations in America coming up.

After declining the invite to attempt my Belfast accent on air, I headed to the Travelodge to secure our beds for the night. I have to thank Richard O'Sullivan again here as the Travelodge was bang in the middle of town and just what I needed. A room with a bath and a TV to watch 'The Simpsons' (the episode where Homer moves the family out to work for an evil James Bond baddie character).

After eating at a Witherspoons Pub (Yes, I feel dirty. I'm no fan of Tim Martin and his anti-Euro cronies.) I headed off in search of Free Derry Corner with Aidan. Spooky as hell, I turned a corner and knew where I was as well as if it was my own home town. I've seen the streets of Bogside on TV a thousand times. A placard on a house commemorating an 11 year old boy killed by a plastic bullet chilled my blood. I stood in amazement at the murals and the Bloody Sunday memorial. What an introduction to the North. I didn't feel comfortable or happy at all. I still don't. I dunno what to say or think and I'm certainly not going to express opinions on it all here here and now. I can't say I liked Derry very much despite nothing happening adversly and being treated very well. Hmmmm.