Ireland day 12 Sligo to Portnoo

Woke up with a bit of a headache this morning, but I shouldn't say that about my wife. Seriously though, I felt the effect of the extra beer from the night before. When I went to order it, Tracy had given me that "Are you sure that's a good idea?" look. You shouldn't trust tipsy people to make sensible decisions. Did my best to refuel and rehydrate at breakfast, but knew as soon as I got on the bike that I had failed. It was going to be a tough start. Luckily the day started with some brutal hills with no warm up. 

Tracy, despite a night of sobriety was feeling rather flat as well, having had to take one of her migraine tablets. She had already suffered a wardrobe malfunction on the way out of the hotel - the zip on the drop down seat of her bib shorts broke. If it had happened on the road, she would have been flashing all of the traffic today.  No-one wants that. 

Rory Gallagher statue in Ballyshannon

Another hill done

Heading out into the surrounding countryside, becoming a sweaty mess almost instantly, we entered Yeats country. He lived, wrote and is buried in this part of Ireland. You know the name of Ireland's greatest(?) poet. He wrote the thing about that thing that time.

What, do you mean "I wander lonely as a cloud"?

     Nah, that was Wordsworth. 

The dog from Jamie and his magic torch?

     No, be serious.

Tis better to have loved and lost...?

     Tennyson

Rage, rage against the dying of the light...?

     Dylan

What Bob?

    Thomas, you fool

So what did Yeats write?

Nobody knows. Unless you're Irish. Or into poetry. Or just googled it. Which is what I did and was surprised that I didn't have an "Oh he wrote that"  moment. 

One of his quotes I do like is: 

"The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper"

Anyway, my senses were growing sharper, as I had managed to sweat out last night's Guinness (Guinesses?, Guinessi?). I was sensing that it was now raining. The day just keeps getting better. Sharp rain showers, then brilliant sunshine, raising the humidity even further. By the late morning I had convinced myself that I had my own personal weather system - I would put on my raincoat when a shower became heavy, rain would stop and the sun come out every time I hit a climb. Ta da! - boil in the bag Dan. 

Lunch was a surf bar at Rossnowlagh beach. We would even get to ride on the sand.

Looking forward to riding this beach...

...the reality feeling a bit like a sandy carpark.

Continuing on after lunch we passed through Donegal - a town that we've actually heard of. A busy little tourist trap it would seem as we passed through. I have to say that I expected it to be bigger.

Lots of hills today. I developed a way of making the hills pass faster.

1) look at the ground not the hill. The floor goes past much faster than a distant spot on the road.

2) Now that you're looking down, wait for a sweat droplet to fall. Which side of the crossbar does it fall on?

3) Excitement if it lands on the bar itself - you have to wait to see which way it trickles. I seem to have a 60:40 split in favour of the left 

Bonus round: If you get a drop that clings stubbornly to the end of your nose, blow it. Does it fly as a single drop or fragment?

I have called my hill game the Sweat Divide 

Pretty gross really.

When we arrived at afternoon brew, Mark was busy fixing a bike as Shirley had taken a tumble. She ended up being taken to the health centre in Portnoo, where her elbow wound was cleaned and closed with steristrips. She still intends to ride tomorrow. She is a tough cookie.

Eventually we arrived at Portnoo and our B&B accommodation. Mary was lovely. Giving us a warm welcome and offering us a hot drink in the garden. It was lovely sat in the evening sun, enjoying the views with coffee and biscuits. Rich Tea. Hmm.

View from Portnoo with sea fog

Super quick shower and down to the golf club for our evening meal. Pretty much the only place to eat in Portnoo in the evenings. Tracy had fish and chips which was very nice. I had gnocchi which was very green. I gave the beer a miss tonight - wanted to have a better start in the morning.

Distance travelled: 77 miles

Total Distance: 723 miles

Cake of day: not sure that we ate any!!!

Tracy whinge factor: 4/10. She has gotten anxious about the time constraints for tomorrow.

Elevation: 4782 ft. Tracy's biggest elevation of 2026!

Ireland day 11 Westport to Sligo or Tracy's birthday

Tracy's early night yesterday was really a cunning plan so that she could squeeze every second out of her birthday! Her bike had been decorated overnight by Mark, Wendy and Taff and a cake left on her pannier rack. We took our water bottles down to put on the bikes before breakfast and she walked straight past it without noticing because they had moved it to a more prominent position. I'm starting to worry about her eyesight, as in one town we passed 3 lifesize plastic elephants on the high street, with a sign saying not to feed them. She didn't notice the elephants or the sign!

I'm stood in the doorway that Tracy walked through. How did she miss this? What's her name, Blind Pew?

It's Tracy's birthday by the way - did anyone say?

After breakfast we had the traditional faff followed by our briefing and geology lesson from Taff. Today's lesson was all about Drumlins and Moraines, both lateral and terminal. Might be homework and a test this evening. We sung a rousing rendition of Happy birthday to Tracy, because apparently it's her birthday.

We had a gentle ride out into rolling countryside, making pretty good time. Brew stop included some of Tracy's birthday cake. 

Tracy's birthday cake - thanks to Mark, Wendy and Taff

Don't let the scenery...

... distract you from the fact that...

...it's my birthday!

Our lunch stop was an old wooden mill, now a shop and obligatory cafe. They make the apple lattices on the old looms out back. It was a good lunch though.

A Drumlin - a hill made from glacial sediment. Classic upside down spoon shape. Thanks to Muir for the photo!

The afternoon, whilst nice riding seemed to go on longer than expected - but eventually we arrived at the Glasshouse Hotel in Sligo. I immediately headed to Gary's cycles, finally getting a replacement tyre. This shop could be dangerous to my bank balance if it was closer to home - so many bling bikes and kit.

I got a message from Tracy walking back to the hotel, reminding me of the room number in case I had forgotten (I had) and saying that she was having a shower. Not having a key to the room, I was relegated to the bar and an early doors pint of Coors. The hardships! Our bags were already in our rooms plus some extra birthday cake. It's Tracy's birthday - did you know?

A nice Brucie bonus on arrival.

The group reconvened, after a quick change and shower, in the bar, looking for a solar eclipse. The clouds did not cooperate and we unfortunately didn't see much at all. 12 of us headed to an Italian to celebrate Tracy's birthday (did she mention it's her birthday)

When is a takeaway not a takeaway?

When they sit you outside, charge you takeaway prices, but still bring you drinks 

A nice meal with great company before heading to the pub across the road from the Hotel.

A heritage pub apparently - not much been changed over the years. Kind of interesting - at home we'd call it a lack of investment.

Lots more chat, beverages consumed before lethargy caught up with us. I was feeling the effects of the beer, the birthday girl was stone cold sober.

Distance travelled: 71 birthday miles

Total distance: 646 miles 

Cake of the day: Birthday cake

Tracy Whinge factor 3/10 - mostly about making her sound like a small child with a birthday obsession on this blog 

Ireland Day 10 Clifden to Westport

 After yesterday's impromptu social, I would like to say we were up and raring to go in the morning. It would be a lie. We slunk down to breakfast. Feeling tired before any cycling exertion was a worrying sign.

We had our usual morning briefing, with Mark bigging up a particular section of the route as being very special to cycle. Hope that he didn't over egg it! We cut our faff time down, so that we left before other people for the first time ever. We almost immediately stopped as I passed a bike shop in Clifden, popping in to see if they had a replacement tyre. They didn't, but the owner was wearing a polo shirt with the name of the shop on it. Only it was inside out. It meant that despite all of the good advice about maybe getting one posted to me later in the tour, I could only focus on his inside out clothing . I asked him if he knew  that his top was inside out (this with hindsight was a bloody stupid question - why would anyone knowingly do this) - he looked confused, because he didn't. I saw the look pass across his face, trying to work out how he had managed this faux pas this morning - feel free to make up a story, maybe he wasn't at his own house this morning. Anyway, I left and we had at least successfully resumed our rightful place at the back.

These photos...

...will never do...

...the amazing scenery justice.

The ride was beautiful, and the section that Mark described was particularly so. He didn't mention the headwind at briefing though did he! It slowed us down significantly - more time to enjoy the surroundings, less comfortable doing it.

We continued on to Killary Harbour - my first ever fjord. It was an impressive sight, with the sheer sided walls and large expanse of water.

Killary - no sign of a Norwegian blue...

...must be sleeping.

We enjoyed lunch at Leenane Hotel where we were served either vegetarian pasta or beef stew with mash. Very hearty and included coffee and cake. In fact the meals were so filling, it was the only time that I have seen cyclists leave cake unfinished.

After lunch, we continued circling the fjord. This seemed to go on forever before turning away to head towards Westport. We eventually reached the steepest climb of the trip and the second brew stop. Being towards the back of the group it meant that we had an audience - the rest of team Peak Tours cheering us on up the challenging climb. Such cameraderie from a group who were mostly strangers a week ago.

Top of the big hill...

...a well earned break after the heroic efforts to reach it.

We rode on, a quick tap of the back pocket -checking that we had our phones for the 27th time that day,  we would also probably check that we'd put Strava on 3 times during an average ride. We eventually arrived at our guest house in Westport - a building that had been extended and also joined with the one next door. It meant that the floors were all different levels and the stairs resembled either an Escher painting or Hogwarts if it was made by IKEA.

We had decided that we needed a quieter evening than last night, as we were pretty tired. We went out to the Everest, a Nepalese curry house. The food was excellent. However, like all curries, it pushed us further into lethargy - we retreated to our bed for an essential early night. Do not pass go, do not collect £200.

Distance travelled:60 miles

Total distance: 575 miles

Cake of the day: Apple lattice (again)

Tracy whinge factor: 1/10 - told me how tired she was, too many times in Westport.

Ireland day 9 Galway to Clifden

Today started as usual with a fab breakfast and the usual briefing along with the requisite amount of faffing, ensuring that once again we were amongst the last to leave. Heading west from Galway along a busy (for Ireland) road, we were able to make good time. 

We arrived at the brew stop after about 90 minutes. Time to use the facilities, girls use the bush on the left, boys the one on the right.

Another day, another Irish beach. Another Irish poet inspired.

Brew stop. Peanut M&Ms are our new go to snack, but Tracy was still hoping for Tunnocks

Once off the main road we entered the Conamara region of the West coast. It was stunningly beautiful, with very light traffic.

Blue skies and a tailwind...

...a good day to be in the saddle.

At times we felt quite remote, never more so than when we slipped past on a closed road. The Italian motorcyclists tried the same thing - it didn't go well. Up in the wilds, the only human activity seemed to be the vestiges of the peat cutting industry. A very limited endeavour to fuel the isolated homes that only have this ancient fuel as a heat source.

Squeezing past the first barrier doesn't mean you'll get through the second.

Despite being on the middle of nowhere, finding a place to pee was quite challenging at times. High vis clothing makes hiding quite difficult - it being the opposite of camouflage.

Tracy earns the award for the wildest wee - heading for the nearest hiding spot, she stepped straight in a bog

Stunning scenery 

Judith on the charge

Ingrid with her seemingly permanent smile.

Eventually we reached our lunch stop at the Zetland hotel. A very warm Irish welcome with soup and sandwiches aplenty.

View from the hotel

A short leg to the village of Roundstone for ice-cream. Kev misheard the name of the place about 15 times, although he never has problem hearing the offer of a beer in a crowded pub.

Muir and Joe

Ice-cream at Brownstone? Pound stone? Groundstone?

We rode on through more beautiful countryside, eventually reaching the afternoon brew stop, cunningly positioned by the beach. Tracy was as excited as a small child, since Mark had managed to bag some Tunnocks since the morning stop.

Tough life this cycling 

Looks like we cycled to the Seychelles...

... although not without casualties.

Arriving at Clifden we discovered that the Station House hotel was far posher that expected. We showered and chilled before heading out for food at the Willow Tree. We discovered Margot and Alison on the way there, having gone directly to the pub - eating's cheating apparently!

The food at the Willow Tree was exquisite, but on the pricey side. We will need to live on Tesco meal deals in our last few days in Ireland!

Beautiful presentation...

...so let's have two courses 

We were heading back to the hotel, but got waylaid by some of the rest of the Peak Tours crew. Guinness, good company and live music. Excellent end to a fabulous day. We will no doubt be paying for our late night in the morning.

The impromptu nights...

...are always the best ones.

Distance travelled: 68 miles

Total distance: 515 miles

Cake of the day: Apple lattice slice

Tracy whinge factor: 2/10 for mentioning the early start more than once.

Day 8 Spanish Point to Galway

The day started with an excellent breakfast - if you can't decide between a full Irish and a continental, have both. Briefing outside the front of the hotel - 10 minutes earlier so Taff could wax lyrical about the Burran, limestone pavements and erratics. Should have been a geography teacher Taff, although we are expecting a test and some colouring in later. 

Taff being very excited by erratics 

A flatish morning ride through windswept and desolate beaches.

This kind of landscape has inspired generations of Irish poets to ponder the bleakness of existence and their impending demise. Should have gone to the pub instead.

We began the slow climb up the hill up to the cliffs of Moher -  214 metres of sheer sandstone and shale.  They were used as the cliffs of insanity in the Princess Bride - one of our favourite films.

The cliffs of Moher. Not to be confused with the cliffs of Mohair, in Turkey, made from the offcuts of 2 centuries of the wool industry.

The visitor centre was very busy, with coaches disgorging their cargo of international tourists. They would wander up the path to see... a cliff. They would then proceed to the cafe, have a coffee, visit the gift shop and bugger off. American tourists would visit the heraldry shop first, to buy some kind of history for their family name.

At the cliffs of Moher. Inconceivable!

It was raining at this point, so views weren't the best - but if you wanted permanent sunshine, don't come to the emerald isle.

We continued on, with the sun eventually making an appearance into the alien landscape of the Burran - a unique landscape that supports Arctic, Tropical and Alpine plants. Multiculturalism at it's finest.

Limestone pavements and erratics - rocks deposited by glaciation.

That's Katherine. Not an erratic. Probably 

On we rode to Keogh's at Kinvarra. Soup and toasties. Took a while for my cheese and onion to arrive. Ireland seems to have a blind spot for vegetarian food - it's considered unnatural. Kinvarra was hosting it's annual Hooker festival. It being a regatta of a local kind of sailing vessel left American tourists either confused or disappointed, depending on their gender.

Passing an advertising sign for "True Colours painting and decorating" we broke into our best Cyndi Lauper, as always sung in the style of Elmer Fudd - it makes us laugh every time. Shortly afterwards, I turned round to see Alison and Margot on my back wheel. Hopefully they were there during our performance!

We continued on the back roads towards Galway, being passed by Italian motorcyclists who would provide some amusement tomorrow - but that's a story for the future. It rained again, which meant that Tracy got some more use out of her waterproof jacket. She also got to yell "Pussies" whilst riding past some of our group sheltering under trees. You shouldn't rise to it Alison, she's just a troublemaker.

We eventually arrived at the Connaught hotel in Galway. The 4th largest hotel in Ireland. Known locally as the "Big house" we were in A-wing under the watchful eye of big Shirley - she calls the shots around here.

We headed into Galway for the craic. Not to be confused with crack - despite being a science teacher, I am not Walter White. We headed to the Kings Head, which had a 40 minute wait for a table. We went to Ireland's pizza express which had, unsurprisingly no wait at all. 

400 years old apparently. One table is still waiting for their mains

Galway was hooching. Seemingly the population of Dublin had all decided to visit on Sunday evening.

We met up with Kev after dinner, to try and find some traditional Irish music. The musicians guild has been hiding it's members  from Kev since his arrival in Ireland. He's either too early, they're just packing up or it's the wrong night. It's a conspiracy I tell you. 

Tonight though we cornered a herd of 10 musicians in the corner of a local bar. They played about 3 songs over the course of an hour, not subscribing to the old adage of leave them wanting more. They were due to finish at 9.00 As it turned out, we were finished at 9 - sleep was calling. I almost started a fight in the pub by knocking over somebody's Guinness. Luckily my ever dependable wife and my newfound tour buddy have my back ...

Tracy?

Kev?

Distance travelled: 69 miles

Total distance: 447 miles

Cake of the day: Jam donut

Tracy whinge factor: 4/10 - grumpy after overshooting the visitors centre at cliffs. Wanted it to be someone else's fault.