Friday, July 16, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Galway and the Southwest
The next day was a short and haul into Galway city. The wind was gale force along the Bay and knocked us either right into traffic or up against the curb. Galway is a pleasant and lively city with a lot of young people. I find it pathetic to see young Americans there with a fiddle or another instrument almost begging for money. I asked one young man - couldn't have been 20 yet - if he found food expensive in Eire. He said he did and so far had only been able to afford cans of beans.
The next morning, I found a bus through Limerick to Tralee in the south. I had been advised that it would be an ideal place to rent a bike and ride out to Dingle or the Ring of Kerry. Wrong. I found that everything happened in Killarney instead. I spent the night in Tralee, a depressing town with a beautiful park, some nice buildings and a lot of really tough looking young girls.
The next morning I took a bus to Killarney and indeed, everything was there - many tours and bike rental places. I realized that to cover the area I wished, I would have to take some day trips. That very morning, I went to the Ring of Kerry. It so reminded me of Cape Breton - rolling, long hills all looking out to sea. Many long views - maybe 20 miles - of tiny houses, farms, fishing villages, and a ribbon of a highway so narrow that tour busses have agreed to travel only counter-clockwise to avoid meeting each other in opposite directions. So many golf courses, all nice, all include the most challenging wind possible. Tiger Woods was at one while I was there and the media just called him a mere adulterer and was only interested in the details of what he put where and how and when and would he please repeat that a few times for the slower of them.
The next day I took another day trip out to Dingle. This may sound cheeky, but Ireland is repetitive - villages, coastlines, cows, horses, churches, stone fences, ruined castles etc. being to fatigue even the most enthusiastic. I think you could take 10 good photos of landscapes, then shorelines, then churches, villages and animals and with those 50 shots, you could capture the surface of Ireland.
The next evening I hired a bike so I would have it at 7:30 a.m. when I set off for the Gap of Dunloe. It is a gap in the mountains of the Ring of Kerry which is somewhat challenging and very pretty. It was raining hard and I left behind my camera and just took a rain coat, energy drinks and a chocalate bar. I rode harder that day than all the rest of the trip, but was back in time to go out and visit the National Park in Killarney. This is a really beautiful place right along the sea and still at the edge of town. It is amusing to see all the bamboo there (altho I have just found a stand of Bamboo in a park here in Toronto where I ride) and lotus flowers in ponds. The warm ocean currents make it possible to keep tropical plants like palms there.
The following day, I bussed to Dublin to spend the night and catch my international flight the next day.
Sometimes we say things like "Germany is wonderful except for the Germans," but with Ireland, most people would say "Ireland is best because of the Irish." It was a great trip and it was far better because of the cycling through the reality of it all.
The next morning, I found a bus through Limerick to Tralee in the south. I had been advised that it would be an ideal place to rent a bike and ride out to Dingle or the Ring of Kerry. Wrong. I found that everything happened in Killarney instead. I spent the night in Tralee, a depressing town with a beautiful park, some nice buildings and a lot of really tough looking young girls.
The next morning I took a bus to Killarney and indeed, everything was there - many tours and bike rental places. I realized that to cover the area I wished, I would have to take some day trips. That very morning, I went to the Ring of Kerry. It so reminded me of Cape Breton - rolling, long hills all looking out to sea. Many long views - maybe 20 miles - of tiny houses, farms, fishing villages, and a ribbon of a highway so narrow that tour busses have agreed to travel only counter-clockwise to avoid meeting each other in opposite directions. So many golf courses, all nice, all include the most challenging wind possible. Tiger Woods was at one while I was there and the media just called him a mere adulterer and was only interested in the details of what he put where and how and when and would he please repeat that a few times for the slower of them.
The next day I took another day trip out to Dingle. This may sound cheeky, but Ireland is repetitive - villages, coastlines, cows, horses, churches, stone fences, ruined castles etc. being to fatigue even the most enthusiastic. I think you could take 10 good photos of landscapes, then shorelines, then churches, villages and animals and with those 50 shots, you could capture the surface of Ireland.
The next evening I hired a bike so I would have it at 7:30 a.m. when I set off for the Gap of Dunloe. It is a gap in the mountains of the Ring of Kerry which is somewhat challenging and very pretty. It was raining hard and I left behind my camera and just took a rain coat, energy drinks and a chocalate bar. I rode harder that day than all the rest of the trip, but was back in time to go out and visit the National Park in Killarney. This is a really beautiful place right along the sea and still at the edge of town. It is amusing to see all the bamboo there (altho I have just found a stand of Bamboo in a park here in Toronto where I ride) and lotus flowers in ponds. The warm ocean currents make it possible to keep tropical plants like palms there.
The following day, I bussed to Dublin to spend the night and catch my international flight the next day.
Sometimes we say things like "Germany is wonderful except for the Germans," but with Ireland, most people would say "Ireland is best because of the Irish." It was a great trip and it was far better because of the cycling through the reality of it all.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Kinvara, Ireland
We had two choices that day; a short 18 mile ride along the ocean all the way to our next town or a 35 mile ride through the Burren and than almost half of it along the ocean. I chose the longer route and loved every minute of it. There were some historical artifacts along the way, many castle ruins, plenty of periodic rain and wind, a really pleasant small lunch on a hilltop with a great view, and all small one-lane paved roads.
Kinvara was small, but had a nice internet cafe, with free internet, a beautiful harbour and and great dinner that night. We were split among two B&Bs and mine offered an 11 yr old boy who was visiting his grandparents during summer holidays, and a v. large dog. He called his Grandpa by that name, but called his Grandmother by her christian name, which is the tradition in Eire. He was a beautiful child - every parent's dream boy - slim, fine features, clear skin and bright eyes. As breakfast began, he told his guests that he was far too busy to talk to them, thank ye very much. But as his duties ended, he started to talk and they could not stop him. I guess the night before the same happened and they all loved him. He plays four musical instruments and his 16 y.o. brother plays two. He said they love each other greatly and always get along, but mind you, he said, although his brother is a fine man, his diet is just terrible. He is fond of junk food which the 11 y.o. feels is entirely wrong. He had thoughtful opinions on everything except those that he did not, which he stated very clearly that he did not. The gynecologist was a fine conversationalist and could keep the kid going on one subject after another. Eventually the boy brought out his fav. new e-gizmo. His uncle who works for Intel had been in Hong Kong and brought him back this everything-cel phone - good for text, e-mail, internet, endless apps and then incredibly a full working TV which has about a 3 x 3" screen - which he thought was just fine for catching soccer games where ever he might be.
Kinvara was small, but had a nice internet cafe, with free internet, a beautiful harbour and and great dinner that night. We were split among two B&Bs and mine offered an 11 yr old boy who was visiting his grandparents during summer holidays, and a v. large dog. He called his Grandpa by that name, but called his Grandmother by her christian name, which is the tradition in Eire. He was a beautiful child - every parent's dream boy - slim, fine features, clear skin and bright eyes. As breakfast began, he told his guests that he was far too busy to talk to them, thank ye very much. But as his duties ended, he started to talk and they could not stop him. I guess the night before the same happened and they all loved him. He plays four musical instruments and his 16 y.o. brother plays two. He said they love each other greatly and always get along, but mind you, he said, although his brother is a fine man, his diet is just terrible. He is fond of junk food which the 11 y.o. feels is entirely wrong. He had thoughtful opinions on everything except those that he did not, which he stated very clearly that he did not. The gynecologist was a fine conversationalist and could keep the kid going on one subject after another. Eventually the boy brought out his fav. new e-gizmo. His uncle who works for Intel had been in Hong Kong and brought him back this everything-cel phone - good for text, e-mail, internet, endless apps and then incredibly a full working TV which has about a 3 x 3" screen - which he thought was just fine for catching soccer games where ever he might be.
Eire - Country Clare and the Burren
You need to double click on these images to make any sense of them. The Burren is that loaf of gray rock in the background at top. It is the result of ancient ocean deposits & those oceans rising and receding several times. The Burren runs right to the Atlantic and Galway bay. When I rode out of the Burren after riding a while through it, the 1st view of the ocean miles below me was the one to the left of the horse.Ireland - Aran Islands & County Clare
The 2nd day in Doolin offered several things to do all day, but most of us were set on taking a ferry out to the Aran Islands. The day before the winds were so high, all ferries were cancelled. This day, the wind subsided enough to sail, but it was the rottenest possible morning; dark and slate grey with heavy rain and chilly. But we went anyway, and after a couple of hours, it began to clear and warm up. Part of our contingent were so seasick by the 1st island that they got off there, but the rest of us bravely sailed on. The islands are 1. tiny, 2. medium, 3. large and we headed for #3. It is an odd place I cannot adequately describe. One cannot estimate any reason men would take up residence in this mountain of rocks. It seems they were initially monks, or people who had been chased in war or conflict. There is so little land that they made their own. The hauled sand up from the shore and covered the rocks, then hauled up tons of seaweed again and again, place on top of the sand until soil formed. And so it is today - gardens and crops but on the thinnest possible soil. We took a little bus around one lane roads on a tour and saw many historical sites and went to more (horrifying in the wind) cliffs with not the slightest thing between the viewer and a 250 ft certain death over the edge -with teenagers frolicking with eternity desiring to be "edgy" (to say the least) for photographs with dunky cameras. I had a kind of discomfort and unease with the place altho I liked being there and the people were nice. It is a place you must experience to realize the odd feel of it.
There are a lot of horses in Eire. The EU took away sheep production and left Ireland with a bonus for raising more and more and more race horses. One beautiful golden coloured horse in Doolin, loved people and would hang out by the fence - just a few feet from the road. I don't know why, but he would grasp people's clothes in his teeth and not let go. He got my rain coat and I thought he would take it right off of me. There were some young men who would turn their backs, and the horse would grasp their belts and they would try to pull away and could not. I had bought an apple that actually was rotten, so I gave it to this horse and he thought it was delicious.
The next day we left Doolin for Ballyvaughan. This was one of the nicest rides. We always were on 2ndary or tertiary roads. These roads are about only 8-10' feet wide. They are usually lined with bushed and brambles shaved vertically right down to the edge of the pavement. This means that two cars meeting in opposite directions have a serious problem. It also means that there is no shoulder at all for peds or cyclists. Fortunately, the Irish drivers must be the v. most polite and patient in all the world. Each day we marvelled at the extreme courtesy they always showed us (but if we happen to be on a #1 road and the speed limit was 100 KMH, all that courtesy was forgotten - but those roads have wide shoulders).
That day I rode along breathtaking roads with no other traffic and I was so far ahead of my group that I stopped many places along the way just to be happy or stare back at a large hare who stared at me. Our hotel at Ballyvaughan was so traditional, pretty, had large rooms and the very best restaurant and service. Out back were new Calico kittens under a bsh, havign just opened their eyes.
One of the problems was that these villages have no banks, no ATMs, will not accept U.S.$ and refuse travellers cheques. I had just enough Euros, but my colleagues were under constant pressure to pay for lunches and small items as they never expected such a problem in 2010. But TV was limited to about two stations and there was no cable. There were two internet places that were never open. The hotel had internet for $8.00 hour, but it was broken (I would not have paid that anyway). They said a mobile bank comes by two days a week from 11-1 and that is it.
The next day we had several options. I went hiking in the Burren for the day, but the big plan was a most amusing naturalist from the area would take us into the Burren & tell us about the flora and fauna. Unfortunately he had another gp. scheduled before us and could not take us until 5-9 pm. By the time 5 arrived, the weather was ghastly - cold, hgih wind, heavy rain. My group really wanted to do everything and have fun, so some of them went anway, but were back miserable and shivering after one hour.
The Burren is a massive rock mountain shaped with edges like a lazy loaf of bread. It goes on forever out in Clare and grows on the viewer.
There are a lot of horses in Eire. The EU took away sheep production and left Ireland with a bonus for raising more and more and more race horses. One beautiful golden coloured horse in Doolin, loved people and would hang out by the fence - just a few feet from the road. I don't know why, but he would grasp people's clothes in his teeth and not let go. He got my rain coat and I thought he would take it right off of me. There were some young men who would turn their backs, and the horse would grasp their belts and they would try to pull away and could not. I had bought an apple that actually was rotten, so I gave it to this horse and he thought it was delicious.
The next day we left Doolin for Ballyvaughan. This was one of the nicest rides. We always were on 2ndary or tertiary roads. These roads are about only 8-10' feet wide. They are usually lined with bushed and brambles shaved vertically right down to the edge of the pavement. This means that two cars meeting in opposite directions have a serious problem. It also means that there is no shoulder at all for peds or cyclists. Fortunately, the Irish drivers must be the v. most polite and patient in all the world. Each day we marvelled at the extreme courtesy they always showed us (but if we happen to be on a #1 road and the speed limit was 100 KMH, all that courtesy was forgotten - but those roads have wide shoulders).
That day I rode along breathtaking roads with no other traffic and I was so far ahead of my group that I stopped many places along the way just to be happy or stare back at a large hare who stared at me. Our hotel at Ballyvaughan was so traditional, pretty, had large rooms and the very best restaurant and service. Out back were new Calico kittens under a bsh, havign just opened their eyes.
One of the problems was that these villages have no banks, no ATMs, will not accept U.S.$ and refuse travellers cheques. I had just enough Euros, but my colleagues were under constant pressure to pay for lunches and small items as they never expected such a problem in 2010. But TV was limited to about two stations and there was no cable. There were two internet places that were never open. The hotel had internet for $8.00 hour, but it was broken (I would not have paid that anyway). They said a mobile bank comes by two days a week from 11-1 and that is it.
The next day we had several options. I went hiking in the Burren for the day, but the big plan was a most amusing naturalist from the area would take us into the Burren & tell us about the flora and fauna. Unfortunately he had another gp. scheduled before us and could not take us until 5-9 pm. By the time 5 arrived, the weather was ghastly - cold, hgih wind, heavy rain. My group really wanted to do everything and have fun, so some of them went anway, but were back miserable and shivering after one hour.
The Burren is a massive rock mountain shaped with edges like a lazy loaf of bread. It goes on forever out in Clare and grows on the viewer.
Photos Ireland June 2010
Top: Cliffs of Moher, 2 photos of landscape we rode through, Me with 4 members of tour at town which invited single farmers to come to a matchmaking fest every September, & now is more like an international orgy. I was the only single man around so agreed to be abused by these happy monsters. In front of one B&B getting ready for morn ride - I am 5th from left. Our beautiful guide - Sonja - is on right edge.Cycling in West & Southwest Ireland 2010
I flew to Dublin June 23rd, spent a nice night and day there, and then continued on to Ennis by bus. At Ennis, I stayed in the 1st of the hotels and B&Bs the tour had arranged. There were five married couples and me and the beautiful German tour assistant. The tour provided us with fairly new Giant hybrid bikes at Ennis. They had sorted them for us by our sizes and weights. This was a major obstacle in my joining a tour as rental bikes have a generally bad rep. But much to my suprise, this big black thing with saddle bags and 28 gears was a much more comfy ride than my Pinarello racing bike at home, and it also had granny gears for hill climbs - of which so many were to follow.
We met the night before riding for a meeting in the hotel lobby. The guide was stunning and and charming. There was a male gynecologist from Florida, an architect from DC, a high ranking bureaucrat from California, a coupl of retired school teachers from California, and a remarkable couple of diary farmers from New Zealand who own 1,000 milking cows.
The plan was that we were given verbal instructions to follow for the ride of the day, plus a written set of sheets on how to find some of the most obscure roads on earth. Sonja - our guide - would start the morning by driving our luggage to the next hotels, then come back along the route to see if anybody had mechanical or other problems. This is called the sag wagon as it is always available for a ride if needed.
On the 1st day, I was so surprised at how much I liked my bike and how fast it would go in a place with no stop signs anywhere. I could just ride as hard as possible for hours and I did. The only trouble was that I was a lot faster than anybody else and went way ahead and missed a turn. The instructions would read something like - look for a brick house on the right after 7.5 km., turn left and then immediately right and then after you see a church turn right again. Sometimes the best instructions were "follow the sign for Inch," but those were rare. Quite often immediately after we were to turn, there would be a Y or T or + not covered at all in the instructions.
But I was off - all alone in a headwind, just flying until one steep, long hill when I hit a blast of about 40 mph that stopped me in my tracks. At the top of that hill, I decided, "I think I should not be here," and had to back track and try to figure out how to get to the right place. I had mistakenly ridden about an hour too far and had to ask several places how to cross over to the right place. In the meantime the rain was now varying from wet to moonsoon levels all powered by a whopping wind coming in from the Atlantic. I stopped at a little store and bought some dark chocolate, energy drink, carrots and an apple and raced onward through the little towns.
You cannot really imagine how seemingly uninhabited the land is out there - you can ride and ride and not meet a car or person out there. There is no agriculture other than hay and an occasional wheatfield. It is like riding through an 18th C. painting with the views that go on forever populated by perfect horses, pretty cows and a few sheep.
By and by I caught up to where I was supposed to be - at the Cliffs of Moher - probably the most famous tourist spot on the coast. By the time I got to the bottom of the 700 ft climb, I had been riding non-stop for 5.5 hours and I was aching and exhausted. It took everything I had to get up that incline, but I did it and I was the 1st, and one of the only ones of the group to ride up it - some pushed their bikes and some took the van.
It was all worth it. Standing on the cliffs in the cold sea wind, face in the sleeting rain, high above the sea crashing the rocks, with gulls riding the wind like stopped helicopters high over the ocean, just for pleasure, I felt I was in Ireland. In the meantime, all of my colleagues and especially the guide, were asking "Where is Kevin?" as they had been for hours. The poor guide said "Oh dear, it is only my 1st day and I already lost one client somewhere." But it was all laughs at the top and "Where's Kevin" became the slogan of the tour.
That night and the next, we stayed in Doolin in B&Bs that were very comfortable.
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