Heading down south

Much has happened since my last post. I left Galway and continued south on the Wild Atlantic Way. Many of the roads were busy and not great for cycling. Garmin put me on a much longer route, so I had to balance good riding roads with expediency. Most of the main roads had enough of a shoulder that I felt comfortable taking the more direct route southwards. By making a mile or two on the main roads, the GPS will recalculate and eliminate miles of far flung rural loops. Suddenly your route will be 30 miles shorter. I found the same was true in Derry, were the GPS put me 140 miles out of the way to avoid a bridge I walked across. Recalculating... In any event, the trip south had good weather and was generally a nice day, though each day had/has a few days of mild mist. I made a few stops, mostly notably at Dunguaire Castle, one of many small fortified estates that dot west Ireland. The castle was setup for a mid evil style banquet, but I was much too early, and only stayed about an hour before heading out. The Wild Atlantic took me along some coastal roads with steep rocky coastlines that eventually built up to the Cliffs of Moher, where I was able to lock the bike up, check a bag, and walk some of the cliff top pathways towering over the ocean. Many of these pathways had no railing or anything...it was a dangerous area. Ample warning signs of loose soil and strong winds don't stop people from toeing up to the edge of the cliffs, I can see how people can, and sometimes do, go over the edge. The paths go on for many miles and take hours to complete, so I was only able to do a little in each direction. Really great place, glad I was able to see it. Next time, I would go for the boat ride as the cliffs are hard to see when standing upon them (seems obvious now).

From there I hosteled again, and in the morning heading away from the coastline toward Limrick. The way in and out of Limrick was rather mundane, lots of foggy farmland that was somewhat meditative, giving me plenty of time to think of limericks, which mostly fell flat.

I was only in Limerick for one day. I dropped my bike off for new brakes and handlebar tape and was off to see the city, including King John's castle, and St. Mary's church which had an varied history going back to the 11^th century. The castle, like the others, had a long history of Irish and English battlements, but was most famous for a siege that “undermined” the city walls. Unable to breach the walls directly, the Irish dug tunnels to collapse the walls from underneath, which in the end worked rather effectively. The English dug counter tunnels, a questionable move, that lead to some very brief underground fighting,the only direct fighting during the siege. What impressed me just as much were the city models that showed how large the city once was, rivaling Dublin in size and strategic importance. It's interesting to see the historical models, where some structures have been reused, and sections of walls and arches still exist. The collapse of the city walls was an important landmark in Irish independence.

I then rejoined the Wild Atlantic on the Dingle Peninsula with plans to explore the far western portion. I rode the Connor Pass (1300ft), which was scenic and somewhat treacherous, but thankfully not as difficult or steep as I expected. I got to Dingle and ran into a rather large food festival. It's been said, a good cyclist can pass anything but a food truck. So I decided to forgo my ambitious plans, and spent rest of the day wandering streets full of food tents and vendors of all sorts, nothing too crazy, but things were fresh and there were good deals all around. I was pretty stuffed by evening. Dingle was a surprisingly large and fun town, like so many charming little towns I pass through. The next day the wind was against me, so buckled down and plowed through, off the peninsula to Killarney.

By this time I was feeling warn down. I had a dry cough and a runny nose, and decided to skip the hostel business to get a some actual rest. I got some mild medications and, unlike most of my “rest” days where I walk the city, I actually rested. I applied to some jobs, finished a long outstanding application, but it still felt like a waste of a day. By the second night I was well enough to hit the pubs, where I'm starting to recall or learn most of the common songs. Good atmosphere.

I thought long and hard about my plans after Killarney. I had planned on riding the Ring of Kerry, but my way into Killarney was tiring, and through my illness I really thought of heading back to Dublin. But it's difficult to pass street signs for the route I was looking forward to taking. The thought of not going make me feel regretful, or should I say I anticipated regret. As I started feeling better, I decided to go for it. Maybe the bottom of a pint glass gets my boldness back up as I decided I simply cannot skip this opportunity. So off I went, tourist maps in hand, for what was supposed to be a signed bike path around the peninsula. However, the route is only signed in one direction (not in the literature) and it was the opposite direction as I was going. So, I spent more time on major roads then I would have liked, much cell phone navigation pending signal strength. Some of the roads are dangerous and stressful, and I'm looking forward to getting back into the countryside.

Aside from the hardships, I'm still having a good time. There are more things to see and do then I could ever get done, and I frequently pass places of interest, photo places, otherwise I'd never get anywhere. These are some of the picturesque areas of the world, and I'm glad that I'm afforded the opportunity to see them, especially with all the vision problems I had earlier. So tally-ho, tomorrow more castles, monuments, and perhaps a chocolate factory?