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.

Ireland Day 7 Tralee to Spanish Point

Nice breakfast at the grand hotel - vegetarian Irish breakfast, which strangely included curried chickpeas, not sure it will catch on though.

Leaving Tralee proved to be a bit of an effort, being stopped at every junction by a red light. We felt like we were on the Truman show, and cue red light on 5,4,3,2 and 1. Cue old lady with Zimmer frame on pedestrian crossing, now slow down as you're in front of Tracy and Dan. Cue learner driver on first lesson. And randomly accelerate and stop, no need to get out of first gear. Needless to say, we quickly lost sight of the rest of the group.

Today was a very welcome change of pace being much flatter than yesterday. It should hopefully allow our aching legs to recover. We contemplated the beauty of flat things.

Flat things that are good:

Our route today 

The seagull we saw (seagulls are bastards)

Caps

Flat things that are bad:

Tyres

That fox we saw

We have been collecting random signs on our trip

Tracy found this one particularly odd. What the hell is it supposed to mean? Galway giant headbutting passing cars? 

Apparently it means children crossing. But that child looks huge because the car looks tiny. Why do you need the picture of the car? In case you had forgotten that you were driving? Anyway rant over - I need better perspective.

And this one. Would the batcave have to have one?

And my favourite estate agents sign

Apparently the two owners met at school and had no interest in property sales, but decided that the sweary boards were an opportunity that couldn't be missed 

A very strange event in the morning brew stop was being entertained by the singing farmer. His talent was seemingly a cross between Karaoke and mugging. Still think Tracy should have done her one woman performance of Les Mis.

The singing farmer.....and Judith (a good sport)

...come on now ba be ba be bub

Anyway, we had a flat route today through rolling fields. Lunch was the Swanky bar in Tarbet. It was a fabulous buffet affair with lots of seafood dishes and plenty of veggie stuff for me.

A quick sprint to the ferry and the easiest 3 miles of the day.

The last stretch to the hotel went super fast. We enjoyed a decent meal in the hotel restaurant, a quick bit of socialising in the bar before a relatively early night.

Distance covered: 64 miles

Total distance: 378 miles

Cake of the day: lemon drizzle

Tracy whinge factor: 0/10. Peanut M&Ms and Tunnocks Caramel wafers at each brew stop really lift the mood.

Ireland Day 6 Glengariff to Tralee

The morning started with porridge and fruit for breakfast. It was alright considering that I'm not a fan of porridge or fruit - mmm makes my teeth itch.

As seemingly always, we were last to leave the accommodation - too much faffing. The first part of the route involved a 5 mile long climb, a bit of a rude awakening. Tracy completed this climb in record time according to Strava - she was scared of being judged with Wendy just behind her!

We were however rewarded with beautiful views at the top.

Joe and I were discussing the benefits of riding in a group - the idea of mutual suffering. I suggested that it is much better if the person that you're riding with is suffering just a bit more than you.

Tracy "Hang on a minute..."

 

Taken by one of the Wimbledon 7 - not a terrorist cell as it turns out.

A great descent brought us past someone videoing the climb from a car. I guess in Ireland, if you don't have a go pro, sticking your girlfriend on the bonnet with a mobile phone is a suitable alternative. We continued onto our first brew stop before our climb up to the Gap of Dunloe. 

Cake (and knee) of the day

First brew stop 

The climb up was tough, the combination of the steepness, heat and basic lack of fitness. The numerous pony and traps gave some excuse to not go any faster.

The gap of Dunloe

A sweaty mess after the climb.
I was alright though 

The gap of Dunloe is an absolute honeypot site. Full of walkers, cyclists and general tourists, interspersed with the pony carts. It is strange that it is so busy. Why would you hike up there? To see the gap. A gap is a space between things, so by definition you are walking several miles to see nothing and the bragging rights of having seen nothing. It is of course a nice gap. One of the best gaps. Probably better than all the other gaps. Maybe the gappiest gap I have ever seen. If you know of a nicer gap, please let us know.

Probably the best gap in the world 

Having been fully gapped out, we started the descent to Kate Kearney's Cottage - our lunch stop. I managed to overshoot the restaurant in my eagerness to make progress. I blasted straight past, the bright red Peak Tours van, it being cunningly camouflaged by being in plain sight at the front of the venue. I continued on for a couple of miles before being picked up by the headteacher in the minibus. I arrived to Tracy shaking her head in disappointment and for the second day in a row, most of the other riders getting ready to go. I popped to the loo and Tracy informed me that she had sent my lunch back. Harsh punishment I thought for my mistake. Turns out she meant that it wasn't vegetarian. Took 20 minutes for a new one to be brought out. Reckon that it took a while to pick out all the ham pieces.

The afternoon was generally less challenging with less climbing and more flats. It got hotter and by late afternoon it was a bit uncomfortable unless you were moving at speed. Which brings us to the last bastard of a hill - the one that they glossed over in the briefing this morning. The one without any good views at the top . It was straight up, but still managed to tease us with many false summits. It seemed to go on forever. That hill needs to go and have a word with itself. It doesn't need to be there, nobody likes it and frankly it can bugger off!

We finally arrived at the Grand hotel in Tralee, although I took an unsuccessful detour to Halfords in the quest for a new tyre. 

Tracy had her GDPR /child protection head on yesterday and was concerned about using names or photos other group members in the blog. I finally remembered to ask on the group chat if any one had a problem with it, perhaps being in witness protection or a member of MI5. The only response was from Kev, who has decided that henceforth he wants to be known as Tony McNulty PI.

There was a general buzz about meetup for a beer and live music in the evening. Getting ready to go out by taking a shower and using the complimentary shower gel,  it occured to me that everyone else was probably doing the same. It meant that just as teenage boys all smell of Lynx Africa, team Peak Tours will all have the scent of Aloe leaf. We e should be able to find each other by smell alone.

Many of us congregated in the hotel bar and had a great evening of chat and laughter. When the time came for us to head to the pub for live music, tiredness had claimed most of the party. Only 4 of us remained, managing one beer before slinking back to our rooms for a well earned sleep. A tough but rewarding day with over 4500ft of climbing.

Distance covered 60 miles

Total distance 314 miles

Cake of the day: Raspberry sponge 

Tracy whinge factor: 1/10 mostly as a result of locking herself out of the hotel room much to the amusement of the receptionist.