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.

Finally in the groove

Blew out of Doonaha at 8:30, Sunday morning and the roads and the countryside were all mine.  The rolling hills kept me working, particularly out of Lahinch where the hill would never end. The granny gear got a workout as did my legs.  It was first communion day for the area kids so everyone was in their Sunday best in every town I rode through. Stopped once for coffee and pastry at Quilty and listen to this local gent talking away in Gaelic on his cellphone. Apparently, the local language is different from Gaelic, written Gaeilge, but related.  Trying to pronounce the words on the road signs is a challenge.  The English words is on the signs as well so you can sound it out, a hint of Germanic.

    48 miles down the road I rolled into Doolan, small town, not too touristy and a fabulous campsite by the ocean.  I set up the tent, cleaned up, had a nice lunch from my provisionals and took a nap.  Walked into town to local pub and had a killer bouillabaisse with pasta in garlic sauce.  Along with a pint of Smithwick followed by a Guiness.

The Irish music rounded off the experience making for a very pleasant night on the town.

     I have to relate this brief conversation I had with the campsite owner in Doonaha before I shoved off this morning. Nailh (Nile) a funny guy in his forties said " You don't mind me saying, we Irish see a bicyclist on the road and say ....look at that paw fecker on d'byke."  I responded,

"You don't mind me saying....look at the paw feckers in d'car with the windows rolled up and the heat turned up missing everything." It was a very funny exchange.  He gave me a thumbs up as I pedaled out the gate.

      Tomorrow, I am gunning for Galway, all I hear is nice things about the place.

Ride from Limerick to the Atlantic

 This morning a blew out of my accommodation by 8:30.  AIRBNBs are good to a point but I felt like was walking on egg shells.  Getting out on the road was liberating, pushing through the Limerick Friday morning traffic until I reached the country side.  My GPS navigated me through one narrow road after another, picturesque as you imagine  Ireland to be.  The cows grazing throughout the rolling hills, bicycling down quaint roads lined with hedgerows.

Eventually I merged into major secondary road leading me to Kilkee on the west coast.  As a sited the ocean, I turned off the main road and followed the water via the narrow lanes. Around three, in need of sustenance, I parked myself a few feet off a tiny lane with a pastoral view.  What followed was a relaxing lunch using the food I had brought with me. After a leisurely lunch I  headed out and merged back onto N68. 

     The traffic was steady but moderate with the motorists giving me plenty of leeway.  That horizontal orange flag 

does the trick.  Sixty-one miles over hill and dale brought me into Kilkee, a charming seaside resort.  First things first, I checked into a local pub and inbibed in two tall ales.  The campsite I was hoping for nearby was eight kilometers out of town. Dispite my fatigue I mustered up the energy and made my way over to the site. In meeting the owner of the seaside camping ground, we struck up a friendly conversation. He volunteered to take me back to town for take out dinner after I setup my tent and showed. Little did I suspect that he would give me the grand tour of the most spectacular ocean cliffs.  With his local knowledge he took me to the photogenic spots.  Then off to get Chinese take out and food for tomorrow's breakfast and additional road provisions.  He insisted I ride down LoopHead Peninsula tomorrow. After his brief tour, he convinced me to take the time.  I may spend another day here and take in the beauty of this area.  Clicking off the miles gives me that satisfied feeling at the end of the day but on this trip, I plan to spend some time seeing the sites.  Tomorrow may  be an excursion around the area. What the heck! 

     My tent is fifty feet off the Shannon River as it meets the Atlantic. The temperature is dropping but I will be hunkered down in my tent listening to the water.   Not bad for my second day on the road

     

42 miles traversing my down to Loop Head lighthouse

For what I though was going to be an easy day turned out to be 42 mile circumnavigation of the peninsula southwest of Kilkee.  Starting from my campsite near Doonaha, I hugged the coast through Carrigaholt to land's end at LoopHead lighthouse.  Saw a small lighthouse on the way which I could not identify. It was tucked away on a hill off the water and it was a challenge  bushwhacking up to see it.  In passing through Kilbaha, I stopped for lunch and a guiness at nice pub restaurant. Shortly thereafter I arrived at LoopHead light. I took in the view, clicked a few photos of the building and headed back.  It was

The southern side riding out and northern side ride back. The cliffs coming and going were spectacular. The geological uplifted rock stretching along the coast added to the grandeur of the cliffs. On the north side, I stop at the Bridges of Ross, land bridges as the locals call them, definitely worth seeing. I kept to the designated paths given my fear of heights.   From this point back to Kilkee the wind hit me head on compounded by a continual incline. Upon reaching Kilkee, I was pretty much toast.  I wondered around Kilkee, found the only ATM in the bustling seaside town, picked up some Chinese "take away" and dragged myself back to my campsite.  I will sleep like I am dead. Tomorrow I am shooting for Doolan, "the world capital of Irish music, around forty miles. 

Warm up for tomorrow ride to the coast

    Since my first solo trip in 1970 when I hitchhiked through Europe alone, breaking through my comfort zone has always been the most difficult part of the trip.  We as Americans are sheltered and coddled far more than anyone in the world. The result being that you don't see

many Americans adventuring on their own compared to the other developed countries.  I was lucky, by default I found myself (20 years old) traveling to Europe solo because a good buddy of mine didn't save or plan for the European trip we had agreed to take together. Nevertheless, here I am 46 years later going through the anxiety of breaking out of my comfort zone.  Today, with the bike assembled but still feeling the jet lag, I loaded up and hit the road for a 46 mile trip. Kept to the back road, riding from Limerick north to Killaloe, west to Broadway and south back to Limerick.  With my bright yellow pannier rain covers, orange helmet, flashing rear light and the horizontal flag, the cars gave me plenty of space.  A trick I have learned in protecting myself from passing cars is to stay at least three feet away from the shoulder.  The cars can't squeeze by,  rather they have to slow down and yield.  With the narrow roads through the winding countryside, I brought many cars down to a crawl, large trucks in particular. Some scholars throttle up and swing wide into the on coming lane to zip past me as cars are approaching.  Last summer I saw several near head on collisions. Brakes are much more effective than flooring the gas pedal.

       I stopped in Broadway for lunch. While in Killaloe I pick up cheese, sardines, Irish bread, chocolate and fruit. I always have this combination on board so I can pull over anywhere and chill out at a scenic spot, maybe even catching a nap after lunch. I highly recommend this picnic approach, saves a bundle and is far more satisfying. You married guys have a problem in this department.

       Tomorrow, I head west to the coast, a little under sixty miles to a campsite in Kilkee.  It will take another day or two for me to settle into the groove.  So far so good, the country is lush and scenic and the people are friendly. 

Touch down in Shannon, Ireland

Why did I come home from Lewes, Delaware; I had money in the bank and the airports were a few days away by bicycle.  Life is short, so let's keep moving.  Booked the ticket to Ireand, non refundable,  no money saved for the trip but May 10 I liftoff for the Emerald Isle.  Getting the house ready to rent to pay the confiscatory property taxes and at the same time chip away at a mountain of must do tasks.  As usual, the list got longer and the time got shorter.  Not a moment to waste. Needless to say but I mustered my reserves and plough through the list and backed out of the house yesterday morning. Sister Ellen took me down to the train and brother Robert picked me up at South Station and drove me to Logan. Flew to Philadelphia, killed five hours working with an electronics store to get my GoPro camera up and running. Don't tell me all these electronic devices are improving our lives.  Balzac!  Even the techies were stomped by the camera.  So now through a circuitous route I can film the cool sites and ship them off to be stored .

        $300 in luggage fees, can you get your hands around that; someone is making money.  Anyways, lift off was at 22:15 hours, I had three seats to myself allowing me the luxury of sleeping horizontally in reasonable comfort. Touch down in Shannon at 8:45 Ireland time and finessed my way over to my AIRBNB over in Limerick.  Man is this place green and the people friendly but they talk a little funny.

   After an hours snooze, shower and shave, I tackled the reassembly of my bike. Frustrating up the wazoo,there must be any easier way.  What on ordeal but I finished in time to walk a mile to the local city pub where the food was good and Irish, Irish music to boot. Tomorrow a warm up day with a nice ride to somewhere and back with a full load. 

Now for somen Zzzzs.

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