Scenery got the best of me

    Before I forget, the name of the restaurant pub in Doolin was O'Connor's, an unusual Irish surname. Last night was a cold one, when the sun sets, the temperature plunges.  I resorted to pulling the sleeping bag over my head to keep my bald head warm. As for my dreams, after seeing that Trump resort, I dreamed of hanging out with him.  Bizarre!  Shoved off at 8:30 after drying the condensation off my tent.  Stopped in town for a Danish and an American coffee.  The Joe over here is much heavier but the volume isn't there.  By 9:00 I was cranking away

along one of the most picturesque roads I have ever ridden on. The Atlantic on my left, stone walls, green grass, cows, horses, rock outcroppings and a cool breeze in my face, idyllic.  "Top of the morning to you". "And the same to you" as best I  could understand of the elderly farmer, cane in hand, herding a cow down the road.  The road rolled but no serious hills except one short but steep walker.  One town/hamlet after another, go to map and follow Doolin to Galway along the coast.  I covered 55 miles and only stopped for a real break once. One tired guy arrived in Galway after a decent secondary coastal road turned into a four lane expressway. Wide shoulder but I had to put in my Bluetooth buds to dampen the car noise. From now on I am keeping the mileage around forty.  Rolling in after two, wasted is no way to see a town.

     Checked into a hostel and am sharing a room with four other people, one red haired lad and three American girls young enough go to be my grand children, David, Sarah, Jackie and Caitlin.  I took a nap, revived myself enough to stroll the town and sample a few pubs. The center of a own was overrun with tourists. One local lad turned me onto a low key out of the way pub which brews its their own stuff, a double IPA for me Sir! Got back to my room with everyone still out on the town.

     Tomorrow I hope to keep the mileage to around thirty.  I have mapped a course to a small village on the water, C

arraroe, west of Galway,  famous for the Galway Hooker sailing vessel used to haul peat out to the Aran islands. There appears to be a camping site there even though the phone number doesn't work. We'll see. Now to sleep like the dead.