So, a better day today. less wind, bkue skies, and a couple of good night's sleep and lots of good food. Thanks again to all at Mannin Bay Hotel. I started the day with a phone call to the Ray D'arcy show. Asked about my progress, my tan and whether I was likely to be presenting myself to anyone naked in the next few weeks, it's easy to see why Ray's show is so popular. It's a shame radio reception is so bad here, as for 5 hours a day, it's often my only companion...
So, with a packed lunch from the hotel, I head off north. the road rose with me today, and I made great progress through Clifden and up to Leenane. No two ways about it, this is some of the most gorgeous scenery I've ever seen. And Hardly anyone around. If you want a hill walking holiday, this is the place, really.
the wind was at my back, and the hills seemed to be easy to climb, and take a lot of free-wheeling to get down. Cycling's all in the head, you know...
I headed on the westerly road to Louisburgh, as I planned, and the wind turned at my face. It was stronger than I realised, and I was a bit disappointed. he says putting it mildly. I was riding on the northshore of Ireland's only fjord, Killary Harbour, when I saw in the distance an Orange KTM Adventure coming toward me. Gerry - 'the Irish Intimidate me, it's the accent' - had taken a detour on his route back from Wales to Glasgow, through Ireland just to say hello. Marvellous. Really good to see him as I've not seen him since last July at a guess. Safe trip home mate, let's make miserable face photos again soon...
So, As I'm running late now after chatting for an hour or so, I take a U-turn, and let the wind blow me the quicker route to Westport, where I met Aiden, who's riding the whole coast to get fit to join the army... Think he's going to do a few more miles than me, but we're going the same way round so I reckon we'll bump into each other a lot over the next few weeks... Anyway. It's a nice day. Sod computers. They're for saddoes. Yes, that means you...
Off for a pint and a meal...
Showing posts with label Galway. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Galway. Show all posts
Monday, 21 May 2007
Sunday, 20 May 2007
Day 23. Rest Day in Mannin Bay 6 miles
Tony's offer of a second night was so welcome. I looked at myself in the mirror this morning before breakfast and decided to take him up on it...
When I sloped into the hotel bar for breakfast, I was confronted with the tallbike, € notes taped all over it, and a photo of the women who'd had their hen night the night before clambering all over it.
Tony had the bile brought in and basically raised more money for me than anyone since the first night with Eily and Conor (hello guys... hope you're still coming to Dublin on the 9th).
I was so touched, genuinely. I walked into the restaurant to a small round of applause from the other guests and felt so, so humble. I really don't think what I'm doing is such a big deal. People do amazing things everyday, and I'm just on holiday, you know?
Still, I showed a few folk how to ride the bike, had kippers for breakfast which was a complete treat, got the Observer in the village - free book; The weather. Great!
Went for a short bike ride to Slayne Head which is the most western lighthouse in Eire, and you know what? After the day from hell, I loved riding a bike.
people smiled at me today, didn't take my photo without acknowledging me (I hate that. I can see why celebrities batter paparazzo, I can... I must have my picture taken 50+ times every day, and so few want to talk about what I'm doing or even smile).
Anyway, I've loved riding bikes since I learned on my cousin Debbie's Raleigh Chipper in Birmingham when I was a wee boy. I'm sure I always will. Excuse the schmaltz, but bikes have been such an important part of me sorting myself out after escaping from the Evil Empire this year, and I have so much to thank the guys at Cyclemagic for, even if they are too useless to send me my saddle to relieve the horrible saddle-sores!
Do it. Go for a bike ride. Or escape the Evil Empire. Both will be good for your soul, if not your bank balance...
Anyway, I sat at a memorial for a crashed American plane and watched a tractor trundle past with 2 kids and their dad at the wheel. Their ubiqutous border collie ran alongside, jinking about in that lovble, stupid way that no other breed can manage. Such a beautiful image. There was blue sky, little wind, mountains and sea in the near distance. I was listening to Bonnie Prince Billy, The Triffids, Smog and Richmond Fontain on my iPod... I treated myself to an icecream, a pint of shandy at the bar, a walk on the beach, and realised, that for the first time for a VERY long time, I was doing nothing with nothing to do. I loved it. I was on holiday...
If I don't get the chance to thank the guys at this hotel on the radio, and I really hope I do, they should all know. I'm not someone who relaxes easily. But they made it happen. I love it here...
Westport Co. Mayo tomorrow!
zzz
When I sloped into the hotel bar for breakfast, I was confronted with the tallbike, € notes taped all over it, and a photo of the women who'd had their hen night the night before clambering all over it.
Tony had the bile brought in and basically raised more money for me than anyone since the first night with Eily and Conor (hello guys... hope you're still coming to Dublin on the 9th).
I was so touched, genuinely. I walked into the restaurant to a small round of applause from the other guests and felt so, so humble. I really don't think what I'm doing is such a big deal. People do amazing things everyday, and I'm just on holiday, you know?
Still, I showed a few folk how to ride the bike, had kippers for breakfast which was a complete treat, got the Observer in the village - free book; The weather. Great!
Went for a short bike ride to Slayne Head which is the most western lighthouse in Eire, and you know what? After the day from hell, I loved riding a bike.
people smiled at me today, didn't take my photo without acknowledging me (I hate that. I can see why celebrities batter paparazzo, I can... I must have my picture taken 50+ times every day, and so few want to talk about what I'm doing or even smile).
Anyway, I've loved riding bikes since I learned on my cousin Debbie's Raleigh Chipper in Birmingham when I was a wee boy. I'm sure I always will. Excuse the schmaltz, but bikes have been such an important part of me sorting myself out after escaping from the Evil Empire this year, and I have so much to thank the guys at Cyclemagic for, even if they are too useless to send me my saddle to relieve the horrible saddle-sores!
Do it. Go for a bike ride. Or escape the Evil Empire. Both will be good for your soul, if not your bank balance...
Anyway, I sat at a memorial for a crashed American plane and watched a tractor trundle past with 2 kids and their dad at the wheel. Their ubiqutous border collie ran alongside, jinking about in that lovble, stupid way that no other breed can manage. Such a beautiful image. There was blue sky, little wind, mountains and sea in the near distance. I was listening to Bonnie Prince Billy, The Triffids, Smog and Richmond Fontain on my iPod... I treated myself to an icecream, a pint of shandy at the bar, a walk on the beach, and realised, that for the first time for a VERY long time, I was doing nothing with nothing to do. I loved it. I was on holiday...
If I don't get the chance to thank the guys at this hotel on the radio, and I really hope I do, they should all know. I'm not someone who relaxes easily. But they made it happen. I love it here...
Westport Co. Mayo tomorrow!
zzz
Day 22. Oughterard - Mannin Bay. 42.2 miles, 5 hours 16
Right, if yesterday was tough, today was horrific. I'd been offered a night at Mannin Bay hotel by the owner Tony who heard me on the radio and I was desperate to get there.
After a week of hostels, some of which like Aille River are really lovely, I was really looking forward to a night where I wouldn't be woken by snorers, could use the bathroom at leisure, and bizarrely, the desire to watch tv, take my time and not worry about anyone else was eating at me.
So, about 40 miles, and I'd be there...
I know I'm moaning about the wind. A lot. But, it really is genuinely scary riding that thing in 40mph winds. Connemara is bleak and rugged, in the most beautiful way, but there is NOWHERE to hide when the wind blows a hailstorm accross your path.
A few times I climbed off. Once, I contemplated pitching my tent as I was so scared of the weather. More than once I screamed at the weather to leave me alone which I'm properly aware is as futile and vain as praying to an omniscient god.
How many sailors and mountaineers have died after pleading with the elements or their maker?
Anyway, I'm no Rannulph Fiennes, and I just had to tough it out. I did hit my lowest ebb and was nearly in tears at one point. Brutal, and not fun. And in some of the most gorgeous scenery I'd encountered. Shame.
My ears and face are wind-burned today, and I'd really had enough.
Roundstone, Ballnahinch and a river I passed were so gorgeous. The railway station that looked like it could have been transported from rural Victorian Britain that since being de-commisioned has become a home was so beautiful right next to a trout fishery...
I struggled into Ballyconneely in very bad sorts. Halfway through the trip but in a very bad mood. Fed up with impatient drivers but fully in agreement that I was a hazard, exhausted from the hardest days ride I've ever done, scared witless somany times, cold and wind-blown and really missing my bed, my kitchen, my son... Curry, the Criterion, and so many people...
Tony and his staff at the hotel, he says with no hint of exaggeration, made me feel so welcome immediately. Shown to a lovely room with a massive bed and a shower to myself and a tv set, I was left to clean and shave and when I came to the bar, Tony had poured me a Guinness. Too polite to turn down his hospitality, I tasted it.
Cliche number 1. In the world. Guinness is better over here. I had another. And a hams sandwich with home made crisps. Gorgeous. Tony and Joanne and Eleanor and Gabriel and Bernie and Noel, etc. I really, really thank you all very much for the stay here. I was ready to make a decision I'd always regret and quit.
After watching Men in Black on the sofa in my room, I slept like a log...
After a week of hostels, some of which like Aille River are really lovely, I was really looking forward to a night where I wouldn't be woken by snorers, could use the bathroom at leisure, and bizarrely, the desire to watch tv, take my time and not worry about anyone else was eating at me.
So, about 40 miles, and I'd be there...
I know I'm moaning about the wind. A lot. But, it really is genuinely scary riding that thing in 40mph winds. Connemara is bleak and rugged, in the most beautiful way, but there is NOWHERE to hide when the wind blows a hailstorm accross your path.
A few times I climbed off. Once, I contemplated pitching my tent as I was so scared of the weather. More than once I screamed at the weather to leave me alone which I'm properly aware is as futile and vain as praying to an omniscient god.
How many sailors and mountaineers have died after pleading with the elements or their maker?
Anyway, I'm no Rannulph Fiennes, and I just had to tough it out. I did hit my lowest ebb and was nearly in tears at one point. Brutal, and not fun. And in some of the most gorgeous scenery I'd encountered. Shame.
My ears and face are wind-burned today, and I'd really had enough.
Roundstone, Ballnahinch and a river I passed were so gorgeous. The railway station that looked like it could have been transported from rural Victorian Britain that since being de-commisioned has become a home was so beautiful right next to a trout fishery...
I struggled into Ballyconneely in very bad sorts. Halfway through the trip but in a very bad mood. Fed up with impatient drivers but fully in agreement that I was a hazard, exhausted from the hardest days ride I've ever done, scared witless somany times, cold and wind-blown and really missing my bed, my kitchen, my son... Curry, the Criterion, and so many people...
Tony and his staff at the hotel, he says with no hint of exaggeration, made me feel so welcome immediately. Shown to a lovely room with a massive bed and a shower to myself and a tv set, I was left to clean and shave and when I came to the bar, Tony had poured me a Guinness. Too polite to turn down his hospitality, I tasted it.
Cliche number 1. In the world. Guinness is better over here. I had another. And a hams sandwich with home made crisps. Gorgeous. Tony and Joanne and Eleanor and Gabriel and Bernie and Noel, etc. I really, really thank you all very much for the stay here. I was ready to make a decision I'd always regret and quit.
After watching Men in Black on the sofa in my room, I slept like a log...
Day 21 Galway - Oughterard 20.5 miles 2 hours 15
Not a long day today, but, O, it felt like one. I took an inland route as there was places to stay at Oughterard and not really on the coast. Also, I tried in vain to avoid the Beaufort 8 winds. Didn't work. I was genuinely very scared a number of times today. Blown left and right by a very powerful headwind that would unpredictably push me towards the verge or the oncoming trafic: I decided on a couple of sections to get off and walk. IT WAS BAD.
I found the hostel at Oughterard and met, without probable exception, the man LEAST suited to the hospitality industry in the whole of Ireland. I was soaked, cold and scared witless and the man known as 'Arrogance on legs' in town wouldn't let em have a shower til 6pm. If Oliver didn't read this site I'd tell you what I really thought... Anyway. I found a pub in town (called Breathnacht's) that had a tasty looking menu and settled in.
A pint in front of the fire listening to the barmaid fend off the cheesy advances of the World's least sexy men, anglers, soon warmed me up.
Ann, the barmaid and her partner John got chatting to me and the owner of the bar had seen me struggling earlier in the day. Cyclists themselves, John and Ann paid for my meal and bought me a pint. The lamb stew and black pudding with bacon were top class. I went back to the Oughterard hostel feeling pretty good, and ready for a night's sleep.
Sadly, the humourless shower-nazi has no such controls over noisy clients. Boring anglers wittering on until I finally lost my rag and stormed up to their room and told them, in so many words as to shut the f*** up at 0130, kept me from sleeping. As did the snorers. Sheesh!
Genuinely the worst place to stay I've ever paid for, and the IHH should kick the guy off their register. Earliest check-out too.
In case you didn't get it. Oughterard hostel. Pants.
Thursday, 17 May 2007
Day 20. Doolin - Galway. 47.2 Miles, 4 hours 33
Right. Day 19 was depressing. Wind, rain, mist, no view at Moher after a bus ride. The hostel was full of Germans and French and other people congratulating each other in pidgin English at how great the other nation's travellers are. Ahem.
I want to meet Irish folk on this trip, predominantly. Spare me from back-packers and other planet-destroyers. Guess I'm not too diferrent in that I'm a tourist, and there ain't no getting around getting round, etc, but I left Doolin bored of tourists. Seriously. I did not hear one Irish voice on my side of the bar last night. How sad. Kerry wasn't like that. I know I'm practically as English as anyone, but 15 miles from my mother's birthplace, I felt a long way from home...
In a flat mood, I set off towards Galway, after tossing up the advantages of getting a a ferry to the Arran Island and then over to Galway. I decided to head inland a little and see some of the Burren and hope the wind wasn't so bad inland. I've heard that wind has driven sailors mad in the past. I can see why. Relentless hard work and fear will mess with anyone's mind...
Anyway. I had the 4 seasons in one day thing today, and I think my plan to avoid the coast a little was a good one. There's no point in photographing the Burren. it's just too odd and has to be seen to be believed...
Anyhow... I had a first today. Graham calls a road in Scotland the Electric Brae. It looks like you're going up hill, but you're going down. I had a similar thing. The wind blew me uphill. Bizarre. I stopped pedalling, and freewheeled up hill for 100 metres. Hmmm.
Galway. one-way systems, exciting, pretty, and no place to be alone. Also full of back-packers...
Oh, I'm in Connacht! Only Ulster and back into Leinster and I'm done. It'll take me 3 weeks...
I want to meet Irish folk on this trip, predominantly. Spare me from back-packers and other planet-destroyers. Guess I'm not too diferrent in that I'm a tourist, and there ain't no getting around getting round, etc, but I left Doolin bored of tourists. Seriously. I did not hear one Irish voice on my side of the bar last night. How sad. Kerry wasn't like that. I know I'm practically as English as anyone, but 15 miles from my mother's birthplace, I felt a long way from home...
In a flat mood, I set off towards Galway, after tossing up the advantages of getting a a ferry to the Arran Island and then over to Galway. I decided to head inland a little and see some of the Burren and hope the wind wasn't so bad inland. I've heard that wind has driven sailors mad in the past. I can see why. Relentless hard work and fear will mess with anyone's mind...
Anyway. I had the 4 seasons in one day thing today, and I think my plan to avoid the coast a little was a good one. There's no point in photographing the Burren. it's just too odd and has to be seen to be believed...
Anyhow... I had a first today. Graham calls a road in Scotland the Electric Brae. It looks like you're going up hill, but you're going down. I had a similar thing. The wind blew me uphill. Bizarre. I stopped pedalling, and freewheeled up hill for 100 metres. Hmmm.
Galway. one-way systems, exciting, pretty, and no place to be alone. Also full of back-packers...
Oh, I'm in Connacht! Only Ulster and back into Leinster and I'm done. It'll take me 3 weeks...
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