Accounts of recent events,
holidays and rides
IRELAND May – June 2006
Following our very
successful cycle-touring trip to Holland
last year, we decided to arrange another holiday this year. I persuaded the
others that we should go to Ireland.
Four of us, Stephen, Ellen, Helen
& Steve, met up in Holyhead on Saturday 20th, ready to take the Ferry to Dublin the following day.
The plan was to dock about lunchtime and ride the 30 miles to our first
campsite. The voyage across the Irish Sea was a bit stormy, and when we arrived
outside the port of Dun Laoghaire we were told that the ‘Bow Thrusters’ were
broken and we could not enter the harbour until the wind dropped. Six hours
later, after a free lunch and many renderings of ‘The Fields of Athenry’ from
the supporters of the successful Munster Rugby Team returning home, we got off
the ferry at 5:45 pm, to a rain sodden Dublin, just after the Tourist
Information Office had closed.
We managed to make our way through
Dublin to the
western outskirts and, thanks to Ellen’s thorough research, Stephens map
reading and a compass, found a campsite with all amenities including hot
showers and a Tumble Dryer!
The next day dawned, wet, with the
wind still coming from the west. We miss judged the distance, and were still 20
miles from the Ballykeeran Campsite, north of Athlone, at 5pm in the afternoon.
Outside the Tesco Store, looking for a cup of tea, we fell into conversation
with a Mrs Patricia Brady. Her husband was a local GP, but more importantly a
cyclist, and was currently with the Tour of Ireland as the medical support. She
took us home for tea and then invited us to stay the night. This was the night
that the temperature dropped to 5% F, so the invitation was gratefully
accepted. We were able to dry the tents in her garden, and set off the next
morning, already approximately 40 miles behind schedule, in the dry.
We rode westward. Dry stonewalls
replaced hedgerows, and there were several stone quarries. The terrain was more
undulating and small hills made of intrusions or deposits of much harder rock
(the rock being quarried) gave some lift to the landscape. We rode through
Athlone, Ballinasloe and Athenry against a head wind and /or crosswind reaching
Galway for lunch on Thursday. We then rode
along the North shore
of Galway Bay to Spiddle,
where we found the campsite still being developed and prepared for the new
season, at least there was an undercover area where we could prepare the food
and cook away from the midges. We changed our mind about staying a second night
here and moved on the next day. Our route took us passed the ferry to the Aran Islands. We parked our luggage with the men in the
ticket office and took the bikes across to Inishmore. The island had run out of
fish, so we had burger and chips for lunch before taking the only road that
runs across the Island.
The landscape is very barren, made
up of layered limestone, with no trees. I was half hoping to see little old
ladies in traditional costume, sitting outside their cottages, knitting Aran
Sweaters. The population seemed depleted and although some of the cottages were
still standing, were abandoned and crumbling. New homes had been built
alongside these cottages, looking bland and soulless. There were Aran sweaters
for sale in the Souvenir Shops but no indication where they were made!
Nevertheless, the Island had a certain charm
and once we were away from Kilronon we had it more or less to ourselves.
It was raining when we retrieved
the luggage from the ticket office, and still raining when we discovered that
the campsite at Carraroe had closed three years ago! It was now 7:30pm. We
knocked on the door of the only B&B in the village. The landlady had had a
busy couple of days with guests who were following the Polish cycle team, some
of whom were still in the house. She took us in, made up the beds and allowed
us to cook our supper in her kitchen, another example of wonderful Irish
hospitality.
Saturday 27th It was not raining
when we left Carraroe. We turned north and enjoyed a virtual tail wind until
turning west when the riding became harder. We were now in Connemara, a barren
landscape with rocks, mountains and lakes, beautiful, but with no cafes or pubs
until Clifton,
where we booked into a good campsite for two nights. This gave us the opportunity
to explore the peninsular to the west of Clifton
without luggage. This was the Ireland
we had come to see and we were not disappointed. A bonus was that the weather
improved. Warm and dry at last.
On Monday we rode from Clifton, heading northeast then north to Westport,
through Connemara
National Park. It was a
fantastic morning with beautiful views mountains and lakes. The further north
we went the lusher the scenery became. After lunch we had a hard ride, into a
head wind, into Westport.
The only Campsite was in the Manor Grounds. Euros 22 per tent per night! Never
the less we decided to stay for two nights to have a day to explore the area,
or in my case, have a day off the bike.
Wednesday 31st, we rode from Westport to Ballina and
another day without rain and very little wind. We headed north along the main
N59, and then east onto the minor roads. There was very little traffic. The
scenery and the terrain were undulating. We stopped for a picnic lunch at a
spectacular viewpoint at Lough Cullin. Bees buzzing, cuckoos calling, fish
jumping. After lunch we cycled between the lakes and headed north to Ballina.
This proved to be the best campsite so far. Situated a couple of miles north of
the town, in the woods. It had excellent facilities, including a covered BBQ
area, with a swallow feeding its young in the roof immediately above us. We
decided to stay here for two nights, and on Thursday headed north, through
quiet lanes to Killala, and on to Downpatrick Head, via Rathlackan. There were
beautiful views across Lackan
Bay to Inishcrone and
possibly Donegal from the headland. I left Stephen and Ellen, who turned up to
the view point, and was blown down to Ballycastle to replenish my caffeine
levels, which were seriously flagging, before heading back to the camp site.
Ellen and Stephen made the best of the day by exploring the next peninsular
before returning.
Friday morning was warm and sunny.
We had a lazy start to an easy day. We took our time over making breakfast and
breaking camp before riding the two miles into Ballina for coffee, well, we
were on holiday, and I think it was well deserved. After coffee we followed the
cost road, on the east side of Killala
Bay, to Inishcrone.
Annette, a friend and former
colleague, had settled here some years ago, we found her busy in her Laundrette
and arranged to meet later. The campsite was virtually on the beech. We pitched
the tents on the other side of the sand dunes before tucking into a large
portion of fish and chips for lunch, probably not deserved, but never mind.
Inishcrone is s a small town expanding very quickly. It is dependent on the
tourist and fishing industries. Like the rest of Ireland, it is enjoying the fruits
of European subsidies. There were a large number of new houses most of which
were empty. We learned that the Government policy was to allow the rich to
claim tax relief when investing in property. We resisted the temptation of a
seaweed bath, a local speciality, as the weather was too nice to be inside and
spent the rest of the afternoon sitting by the bay, paddling in the Atlantic and watching the children play. Annette came by
with her mother, who was visiting from Oxford,
and one of her daughters. They invited the four of us to supper and we enjoyed
a very pleasant, sociable evening among her friends and family. They were
persuaded to give us a rendering of ‘The Fields of Athenry’.
Saturday 3rd. Inishcrone to Sligo, Our route took us around the coast road between
the sea and the Ox Mountains. I felt I was realising a fantasy. I had visited
this area five years earlier, by car with Annette, and thought then it was
ideal cycling country, if like me you enjoy the quiet country roads and
undulating hills. Glorious weather. We headed for the Beach Bar, Aughris Head,
for coffee, which had been recommended by our hosts last night. This bar was
off the beaten track but obviously popular with the locals, always a good sign.
It was almost lunchtime, so we decided to pass an hour on the beech and wait
until one o’clock. This proved to be a good decision as I had the best meal of
the holiday, fresh fish chowder! We continued round the west side of Sligo Bay
and into the confusion of roads south of the town. Stephen managed to negotiate
the way into the town without using the motorway. Sligo
was heaving. It was a public holiday weekend and there was a music festival on
at the Race Course.
Our first port of call was the
Railway Station to buy tickets for Dublin
in the morning. Despite being assured that there would be no problem putting
bikes on the train when we enquired in Westport,
the ticket officer in Sligo refused to accept
them as it was a commuter train (a bank holiday Sunday!) The bus station was a
bit more promising but not able to guarantee they could take the bikes. We were
approximately 130 miles and 48 hours from Dun Laoghaire.
We discussed the options and decided to take a chance. Our next port of call
was the Tourist Information Office, which had just closed. The next stop was
our designated campsite, which had an apartment block on it. We headed for plan
B, the campsite at Rosses Point, 5 miles north
west of the town. The site was very busy with
families and holidaymakers but they managed to squeeze us in. We pitched the
tents in a quiet corner overlooking Aughris Head where we had had lunch. Stephen
and Ellen did the noble task of going back to town to buy food for supper then
coming back to cook it.
Up early on Sunday morning to
cycle back into Sligo and arrived in plenty of
time. The bus driver was happy to take us, and the bikes, and we stored them
ourselves, securing them to our own satisfaction. We arrived in Dublin around lunchtime
and found a café near the River Liffey. The others went to check out the
Shanklin campsite at the Tourist Information Office while I took care of the
bikes. The office closed as they approached it! Ellen was keen to spend the
last day in the Wicklow
Mountains, before
catching the ferry on Monday evening. We decided to head south, passed Dun Laoghaire, along the coast road towards the campsite.
The road was narrow and undulating. The traffic was scary. The Dubliners were
out in their hundreds, enjoying a hot public holiday. Ellen had the presence of
mind to ask in a shop the location of the campsite before descending a very
steep hill. Guess what! It closed three years ago. We admitted defeat and went
back to the Ferry
Port. They transferred
our passage. No problem, no charge and we caught the 9:30 pm Ferry back to
Holyhead, sprinted to the campsite where we had started and pitched the tents
around midnight in the dark.