Month: June 2018

Day 20 – Quilty to Tarbert   71 km     (883 km  548 miles)

Along the Wild Atlantic Way (which is still not wild at all) to the seaside towns of Kilkee and Kilrush, then the ferry from Killimer to Tarbert across the mouth of the Shannon river.   More sun and blue skies, but fortunately a little cooler.

Staying in a weird rundown, scruffy hotel just outside Tarbert that is almost deserted and appears on the brink of financial collapse. The local people on the ferry quietly looked at one another  when we said where we were staying.  Then one offered to give us a good price on a room if we found the place unsatisfactory.  Our standards can be fairly low.  Good deal on the room.   Cheapest so far.  Four poster bed that has seen better times, but handy for hanging our washing on.

The schools have broken up now so there are a lot of Irish folks on holiday.  Smaller roads still good.  Faster roads much busier and it seems the gap the cars give us is definitely getting narrower.

Day 19 – Doolin to Quilty

35km    (812 km   504 miles)

We came down the coast today to the little seaside village of Quilty.  This is where the ancient Irish tradition of quilting originated.   Mothers would teach the secret art of quilting to their daughters, who in turn would pass the secret down the generations.  This until an English visitor to a local B&B happened to overhear a mother explain how to quilt a bed cover.  The secret was out.  He took the knowledge away and quilting spread across the world so that just about everyone today knows how to quilt a cushion.  Or so the story goes.

We didn’t come far today because it was another scorcher.  Yesterday it was 32C in Shannon, the hottest recorded since 1976.  (That, unlike some of the things you’ll read on this blog, is true.)

While it’s been fine to play the tourist in Galway and Doolin, we realise it’s not really our thing. We prefer quiet country roads and anonymous villages, rather than cities and towns with shops and pubs jammed with busfulls of visitors.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day 18    Doolin (to Inisheer)      0 km

Boat trip to Inisheer today, the smallest of the Aran Isles, where the locals speak Irish.   And on a small road on the south side of the island, Margaret practised her recently acquired Irish whistle by playing the slow air called Inisheer.   I ( and sundry cows) thought it sounded really good.

We realise that our remaining days in Ireland need to be spent avoiding the throngs of tourists.

Looking forward to leaping on our steel steeds tomorrow.  The temperature is predicted at 31 degrees again.

 

Day 17 – Doolin.      0 km.

We had a cycle free day today but still managed to trek 16 km return to the highest point on the Cliffs of Moher (702 ft).    The walk was stunning and quite exciting in a few places. ‘Don’t look down, don’t look down!”   It was also 31 degrees out.  We had to buy more sunscreen! Once again, we’ve been to a pub with local musicians, it’s 11:45 pm…

 

 

 

Day 16 – Galway to Doolin – 79km   (777 km   482 miles)

Today was a large day, as Bill would say.  50 miles on a hot day up the Wild Atlantic Way.   It was 29C, and the road surface so hot that our wheels sank into the road in places.   They was also a crackling sound as the tyres picked up the sticky tarmac.   By the end of the day we had a crust of small stones embedded in tarmac stuck to the tyres.

For all that, it was a great trip, though we were pretty toasty by the time we rolled into Doolin.  It was good that we drank lots of liquids, including a Guinness for lunch.   (Guinness is one of the 4 essential food groups for us cycling in Ireland, the others being ice cream, chocolate and more Guinness.  Ain’t a hill you can’t climb after a lunch like that.)

The Wild Atlantic Way, looking out over a flat calm ocean, seemed a bit of an exaggeration.  However, looking up and down the actual road ‘Way’ was, at times, wild with tour buses and cars.  It is much more of a tourist Mecca than we were expecting. Still,  met MORE friendly chatty local folks at stops along the way.

Nursing sunburns despite tip to toe sun screen.  Who’d a thunk we’d get a sunburn in Ireland.

 

 

 

 

 

Day 15 – Galway

Today was a day off from cycling.   Instead we went for a long walk through the centre of town and then out along the sea front to a beach to the east of the city.  Sunny and hot, so probably just as well we weren’t on the road.

 

 

Day 14 – Ballinasloe to Galway.   (Via Aughrim,  Kilconnell, Athenry)

71 km.   (698km.  434 miles)

Today was epic!  We’ll mostly post photos as it is already 23:35 – just back from a trad. band playing at a local pub.

Our cycle ride through the back roads had unbelievable scenery, scary big dogs, horses with foals, cows with calves and the never ending supply of sheep.   Locals striking up conversation out of the blue and Irish history showing up in random places.  Oh yes…and more Guinness.

A large day to be sure!!

 

Day 13  Athlone to just south of Ballinasloe

40 km  (T= 627 km    390 miles)

It was warm and sunny all day today.   With temperatures in the mid 20s, that counts as a heat wave in these parts.   The last time Ireland had such a nice June and July was in 1349, (but having to cope with the Black Death at the time took the edge off people’s enjoyment).

We actually cycled along a road through a peat bog today.   Quintessentially Irish ☘.   It conjures aged peasants with bent backs cutting out the peat for use in their mean wattle and daub dwellings to keep them going through the bleak midwinter.   Nothing could be further from the truth.   You can’t swing a leprechaun round here without hitting a large, beautifully decorated  house, with immaculate lawn and two  Mercedes convertibles in the driveway.   I confess I thought  that Ireland  was the poor cousin of Western Europe, but it’s really not so.   According to the IMF, they have the 5th highest per capita GDP in the world ($73,000), much higher than Canada ($48,000) or the UK ($43,000).

 

Day 12 – Mullingar to Athlone        49 km

Today was the Nirvana of cycling.  We followed  a disused rail line converted to a Greenway from town to town with another town near the middle -Moate -complete with a cute little coffee shop with yummy food.  The whole route was paved, the sun was shining, and locals along the route were happy to stop and chat.  One lady remembered when the she used to take the train to Mullingar as a little girl.  Her Daddy used to get 6 shillings a week to put the barriers up when the trains came along…then go and have a couple of stout with the signal man.

Athlone is right on the Shannon River and the castle was the scene of much bloodshed in 1689-91. So much history right across Ireland.

 

Day 11 – Enfield to Mullingar               42 km

Back on the Royal Canal shortly after leaving Enfield for a pleasant and flat 40km sashay up to Mullingar. Nice little town consisting (for some weird reason) mostly of men’s barber shops, cafes and pharmacies.

Mullingar is the ancient Lacy family seat (the other being the one on M’s bike 😉).

Hugh de Lacy (Lacy is my maiden name) was the Lord of Meath.  Henry II gave him huge tracks of land!   He was married twice.  Had 10 children.  5 boys and 5 girls.  So somewhere between then and the 1830’s  it is likely one line expanded until  some of the offspring emigrated to the States.

Hugh de Lacy is described by a contemporary in the last couple of photos for those on the Lacy side who might be interested.