Showing posts with label Youghal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Youghal. Show all posts

Thursday, 3 May 2007

Day 5. Youghal to Cork 42.5 miles, 3 Hours 52

Leaving Youghal, the only place in Ireland where you drive on the right for sections, I hope, and I kid you not, I was in really good spirits. My knee was feeling MUCH better for all the ice, and, well, it's in such a lovely spot. Sadly, tho, the scenery wasn't to last long as after Midleton, there's just no way to Cork without using the N25, which is a bit like riding along the A14, Vanessa.

In Midleton, I realised my complete inability to give road directions is genetic, as everyone I asked made me want to scream and ride away.

I just took the motorway, where Andy the truckdriver stopped me for a chat and bunged me a tenner! Nice guy, too. Earlier in the day I extorted €2 out of two foxy Polish girls to pump a flat tyre on one of their bikes. Maybe I should set up shop?

When I get home, I extend the challenge to all comers: The Tallbike ten mile time-trial. Riding along a dual carriageway certainly gets your legs spinning, and dull as it is, it reminded me of time-trialling. Who wants a race? Anyway, the N25 turns into a 3 lane motorway, and then i gets REALLY scary... I just stuck it out and rode into the middle of Cork, where I realised that big city types are just as capable of staring agog as country folk...

Found the Travelodge and checked in and set about finding a new seatpost for my bike as the one I have keeps slipping down and upsetting my knee. I phone around, or rather the helpful Reception manager Hannah does, and I find one... I'm into a taxi and off to Douglas Cycles like a kid at Christmas.

If I lived in Cork, Brian at the shop would know me well... what a great shop! Tiny, but full of trick racing bikes, any of which I'd swap the monstrously heavy tallbike for in a second...

he refuses to take the €20 for the post, and wishes me well. I take a last longing look at the sexy Cinelli Unica in the window and jump into my taxi.

In Cork I realise I'm walking around like one of those tourists who looks so naive they're almost inviting a mugging, so I look for a bar to hopefully watch United lose...

I settle on Clancy's as I like the menu, and nobody in there resembles Cork boy, Roy Keane. Good so far...

I plonk myself down and get chatting to Heath, the Australian barman, who, like me, is ecstatic Chelsea are out, wants United to lose, then Milan to beat Liverpool. This level of bitterness can only come from an Arsenal fan, so I'm in good company...

I stuff my face with a huge chicken curry with chips & rice, which the boys at the bar said was on the house! Excellent!

United get thrashed, I met an Irishman with a Sicilian dad called Salvatore Toscana who told me why Irish Pizzas aren't great. No wood-fired ovens, apparently. Shame...

Anyhow, Heath's girlfriend Maeve comes in, and we have a chat and it turn out she knows one of my new mates from Dublin, Catherine. Spooky. I introduce the Irish to the word 'Chav', and hear about the young men of cork taking to the roads in their cars to complain about unreasonable car insurance only to end up in loads of crashes and upsetting the Gardai, which cheers me up after the Tramore incident. I cadge a lift back to the Travelodge and get a nice bit of sponsorship from Heath & Maeve, too. A really nice night.

Day 4. Waterford to Youghal 53. 5 miles. 5 hours 15

Bit of a mixed day today. Paid for all my own meals and accomodation, but was glad my knee held out, despite it being excrutiating at times. Started the day with a McDonalds. , but hey ho... and set off with the intention of getting as close to Cork as possible so I could tweak the bike and take a rest day at the Travelodge (thanks again Richard and Paul).

I headed to Tramore, which is a beautiful spot, but I had my most scary moment of the trip so far as some spotty little eejit in a japanese sports car decided to practice his 'drifting' on a roundabout with me on it. Sadly my extensive vocabulary of insults has no power at all in Eire as you can say the F word on morning radio here. Cheers, mate. Hope your insurance goes up. A lot.

Despite a horrible hill out of Tramore, I was in good spirits as the scenery was getting really stunning. The Copper Coast is like Cornwall, without all the annoying rich kids, especially Annestown. My Knee started gipping me BADLY as I limped into Dungarvan. I went to a chemist, and took advice from Niamh at Connels. She really knew her stuff and gave me some great cycling specific advice, which did NOT include the word 'stop'.

I met some kids in the town square as I was stuffing my face with the second meal I paid for in Ireland. Sample question. 'What's that?'
Me: 'A radio'. 'Is it for songs?' Me: 'Yes'. 'Give me it Mister'. Me: 'No. Go away...' Or something similar.

I also got my only sponsorship of the day in Dunvargan. €3. Joy.

The 2 mile dual carriageway climb out of the town was possibly my lowest ebb. Pain, dejection, sunburn on my thighs, and not knowing where to stay.

I found somewhere in Youghal, it was pretty cosy with a GREAT shower and the landlady gave me an icepack. The curry house closes on tuesdays, so I went for a pizza at Bella Casa, and not because I paid for it I say this, it was average. The staff were lovely, though, and Youghal, is such a pretty port I'd love to go back.

Watched Liverpool beat Chelsea when I got in. Deep Joy!

Day 4. Waterford to Youghal 53. 5 miles. 5 hours 15

Bit of a mixed day today. Paid for all my own meals and accomodation, but was glad my knee held out, despite it being excrutiating at times. Started the day with a McDonalds. Nasty, but hey ho... and set off with the intention of getting as close to Cork as possible so I could tweak the bike and take a rest day at the Travelodge (thanks again Richard and Paul).

I headed to Tramore, which is a beautiful spot, but I had my most scary moment of the trip so far as some spotty little eejit in a japanese sports car decided to practice his 'drifting' on a roundabout with me on it. Sadly my extensive vocabulary of insults has no power at all in Eire as you can say the F word on morning radio here. Cheers, mate. Hope your insurance goes up. A lot.

Despite a horrible hill out of Tramore, I was in good spirits as the scenery was getting really stunning. The Copper Coast is like Cornwall, without all the annoying rich kids, especially Annestown. My Knee started gipping me BADLY as I limped into Dungarvan. I went to a chemist, and took advice from Niamh at Connels. She really knew her stuff and gave me some great cycling specific advice, which did NOT include the word 'stop'.

I met some kids in the town square as I was stuffing my face with the second meal I paid for in Ireland. Sample question. 'What's that?'
Me: 'A radio'. 'Is it for songs?' Me: 'Yes'. 'Give me it Mister'. Me: 'No. Go away...' Or something similar.

I also got my only sponsorship of the day in Dunvargan. €3. Joy.

The 2 mile dual carriageway climb out of the town was possibly my lowest ebb. Pain, dejection, sunburn on my thighs, and not knowing where to stay.

I found somewhere in Youghal, it was pretty cosy with a GREAT shower and the landlady gave me an icepack. The curry house closes on tuesdays, so I went for a pizza at Bella Casa, and not because I paid for it I say this, it was average. The staff were lovely, though, and Youghal, is such a pretty port I'd love to go back.

Watched Liverpool beat Chelsea when I got in. Deep Joy!