Day twelve

I seem to be incapable of making rashers for breakfast without burning the damn things and filling the kitchen with smoke. Argh.

Breakfast: aforementioned burnt rashers, two fried eggs, boiled rice, tea.

This hostel, Kate O'Connor's, is fairly nice. Several hundred year old building with quite a bit of history to it. I kinda want to make today a rest day, but I've decided that rest days will be Sundays, wherever I happen to be. This time will be Galway I think.

Made decent time for the first few hours today, then got tired after Quilty/just before Milltown Malbay and took a nap in a field. Didn't pick the best field for it really... Long wet grass hid what was basically a little bog. But I found a decent place to put down my foam mat and take a snooze. Got up when I got cold and kept going. It was a pretty cold morning actually. In Milltown Malbay there's some kind of music festival going on, and I tho't I might lunch there and listen for a while, but got really nervous and antisocial for some reason and just needed to get out of there and away from people as quickly as possible, so I only passed thru.

Trundled on north thru Lahitch. Been off my ordinance survey map of SOUTH Ireland for a while; finally found a place that carried the WEST section (it comes in four pieces, and has the perfect level of detail on it for cycle touring long distances). Got off the N road and headed toward the Cliffs of Moher. Didn't sit down to eat lunch today, just snacked constantly on the bike on fruit, skittles, and boiled eggs. Nearly had a breakdown over a stuck zipper in-between towns for some reason. Just not in the best of moods really... Probably because I already miss the landscapes of southwest Cork and Kerry. County Clare is postcard Ireland: bushy green quilted hills, dry stone walls and white cottages, placid masticating livestock, the sea never too far away. Every place I've gone so far has had its share of tourists, but here they seem especially thick. It's too built up and I miss the wild bits of Ireland already. Where you could cycle for an hour without seeing a house.

Just heard a cow cough. Weird. Hit a wall just before Cliffs of Moher and had to lie down for a little while and eat some GF biscuits. Quads burning all day. I'll pee real quick then get going again.
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Decided to camp in some pine woods near Doolin rather than hostel there, since the sun came out and forecast is good. Skipped the Cliffs of Moher 'cause I've already seen them and I'm particularly anti-tourist today. (I don't really consider myself a tourist because I'm not in a coach/car/caravan, and also I live in Ireland, have friends here, etc.)

Chose the dumbest, muddiest, thorniest way to enter the woods because I didn't see the gullies and muddy trenches I was setting myself up to cross, but once I got so far thru shoulder-high grass it was too late to turn back. Campsite is nice, isolated but near enough to the road. I'm boiling rice on my camp stove in treated water (there's a tiny trickle of a stream nearby) and will eat it with a tin of mackerel. It's nice to finally be using the heavy crap I've been hauling up and down all these mountains and hills for so long. And GOODGODIJUSTSPILLEDBOILINGFUCKINGWATERONMYSHINS

i know better than this too. The whole setup is really top-heavy. Excuse me while I swear and scream about how I've killed myself.

I've got some kind of burn something in my first aid kit. It doesn't hurt too much right now. I guess I'll see the damage in the morning... Get a tube of proper burn cream. It's dark now and cold so i'm not going anywhere.

I've got the right amount of warmth in this setup but of course it will be an hour or so before I fill the bag with my body heat, get comfortable, and *feel* warm in it. I'm not going to get up until I bloody well please either.

Stay tuned for more drama later today/tomorrow.

Pax.

Day eleven

Slept in quite a bit today, due to the lateness of last night. Hot shower upon waking. Marie turned on her audiobook when I was in the shower, but fell asleep again afterward. (Her brother did the same thing yesterday, turning on the radio when he got up but then falling back asleep whilst listening to it.) I don't want to bother her so I'm just chillin' until she naturally wakes.

Brunch: packet of salami, peanut butter spread on rice cakes, one banana, tea. Talked to and enjoyed Marie's company from when she got up until half three, when I finally got going. Latest start so far, but it was only a 50ish km day today. Ride unremarkable on a main, busy road from Tralee to Listowel, where I stopped to eat some boiled veg and a plain baked potato with green tea. I prefer to buy food in grocery stores but you have to eat it outside and it was super overcast with a semi-permanent mist today and I didn't want to be out in it. When I can find a café with a window I can watch my bike from, I go there. Anyway I'm more likely to eat vegetables or salad if I go indoors so that's good I s'pose.

Discovered in Listowel that the screen on my camera has broken since last night. This is because I was too cheap to buy the waterproof, shock-proof version when I had the chance. Might still be under warranty but I think I want a better camera anyway. Hopefully it will still take pictures for me for the rest of the trip... Just without the visual aid of the screen.

Weather today is absolute shite. Worst day so far. Not only wet and dark, but cold, too. Daydreamed my way thru the mist on a boring busy road to Tarbert ferry. The beach there in Tarbert was absolutely desolate. Grimy sand crawling up out of the sea, cloaked in white fog. I was forty minutes early for the half eight ferry, so I sat in the pub near the dock and had a club orange. Fellas inside an interesting lot. Chatty and constantly slaggin' each other and everything else (and betting on horses). I couldn't tell if they liked me or not but they all shook my hand when I got up to go. Apparently when I went to the toilet they made a bet on whether I was lesbian or not, but I guess nobody won 'cause I'm asexual and all.

Ferry to Co. Clare cold and slippery-wet. Sat in a little room with my butt on a heater for twenty minutes. Road to Killrush at nine pm quiet and lonely. Beach desolate as well. Sky and sea grey as sorrow.

Soaking wet and somewhat miserable, I rolled into Killrush and booked into a hostel near the main square. The building and kitchen are very clean and nice, but you only get one shower token that when you use it gives you 8 minutes of hot water. Damn.

Sharing the room with a girl from Scotland. Otherwise the hostel seems very empty. Tomorrow I go up the West coast into hopefully Doolin.

Pax.

P.S. -- Aunt Becky, I was thinking about what it means to "smell Irish", and we've decided it means the sweet, unique smell of a turf fire, along with the smell of horse/sheep/cow shit. Also, I have no idea what "the Bags" means. I think he got it from a song or poem or something.

Day ten

Breakfast: package of pepper salami, an avocado, two boiled eggs, tea, trail mix right away on the road.

Slept in today, then got up, stretched, read a bit. I could sit in that house for weeks, months, just reading. Played a little tin whistle outside until Mickey got up. We talked for a little while, had tea, then I asked permission to pick up the alto sax and play a bit. It's an old, but good, horn. Nice tone quality. Every note playable except G#/Ab, which had a sticky key. Lovely stuff. I haven't touched a sax in ages; started realising how much I miss it.

Mickey seems like the kind of person my cousin Howard would enjoy. I don't know why I was thinking that but I was.

Neighbourman with the fields and sheep came over for a spell. Kerry accent, weatherbeaten face that shines with kindness. Bit shy seeming but warms up quickly. I'm finding so much generosity this trip... Makes me so happy. Gives me hope for the human race and all, etc etc

We chatted and enjoyed each other's company until about two o'clock. I didn't quite *want* to leave yet but it was a glorious sunny day, warm and ripe with birdsong. Perfect for cycling. Since I was running a touch late tho', Neighbourman threw my bike into the back of his van and took me down the road about 10 km, saving me a big hill and about an hour of cycling. Rather than take the main Ring of Kerry road back into Killarney, I took a detour (recommended by Mickey & co last night) thru the Black Valley and Dunloe Gap. There was hardly any traffic as far as the Black Valley hostel, just a few cars and locals on bikes. The views of the valley from the gap in, and again the gap out, were spectacular. I can't begin to describe the glory of this landscape, gleaming in the sun, rising ever toward Heaven. I tried to film some of my descents; we'll see if it turns out at all. Only two scary spots: once when my pedal caught a rock and I almost came off the bike, and another when I got razzed by a blue car with a spoiler going a bit too fast around a blind curve. No harm done tho'. I'm feeling more comfortable at speed, getting used to the braking power of the bike and the handling down hills, so that it doesn't scare me as much to fly downhill.

Once I reached the gap of Dunloe, there was lots of traffic--cars, horses, jaunting cars (i.e. horse-drawn carts), hillwalkers. I hate cars with a passion on roads like that but the rest I don't mind. The views from the winding road by the rivers, across lakes, thru the mountains... Ahh. So clear why it attracts the world to come see it.

Today was only a 40 km day, but definitely the best 40 km so far. (and the first day I didn't get rained on at all!) Pedalled quickly into Killarney the last 12ish kms on the main road. Traffic in Killarney is always terrible. So glad I'm on my bike. So glad I'm free.

Caught the 20.24 train from Killarney to Tralee to come see Mickey's sister. I intended to catch the 18.24 but was about fifteen minutes too late for it, so I bought some food instead. Ate another whole gluten-free cake in the train station. Later bought some smoked salmon as well. I have a craving for some fresh, hot chips for some reason, but I don't think I could find anywhere that makes them without gluten cross-contamination. :(

When I got into Tralee, I sat with Mickey's sister, Marie, and some of her friends and had drinks outside a cute little pub near enough to the train station. Irish way is to bring you a new drink before you're quite done with the one you've got. Had a decent amount of cider. We moved inside as the sun set and sat by a nice real wood fire and talked and talked. There was a guy there who was closer to my age and kept telling me I was beautiful. You know you're with good people when drink makes them friendlier.

Stayed up until about one before coming home with Marie and collapsing. Marie put me in her own bed, and took the couch, before I could even protest. BK fit in the lift so she's here in the room with me. Lovely place this. But of course that's mostly due to the person who lives here.

I have to promise myself I will see these folks again one more time before I leave this country so I won't get sad about moving on with my journey. Making new friends is a wonderful thing, but leaving new friends is most assuredly not. That's the nature of the game tho', I s'pose. You travel, you lose people. And that's that.

Pax.

Day nine

Rain and deep fog already this morning. Poor BK was wetted all night, too. Kitchen rather empty as I cook.

Breakfast: 240 grams of slightly burnt bacon, with which I filled the kitchen with smoke; two fried eggs; boil-in-a-bag rice that tasted a bit like the soap I washed the pot with; mango juice blend and tea.

Journey as far as Waterville boring and heavily overcast with too much traffic. Saw the road literally bend under the weight of some coaches. Daydreamed most of the way when I wasn't pedaling furiously up hills looking for a place to pull over and let vans pass. I've now formed an irrational fear and hatred of red cars, especially red audis. All the red cars I've come across since I started this jaunt nine days ago has either been going way too fast, or passed me way too close (or both). Red vans are hit and miss but red cars are unanimously scary.

Sun peeked out at us while I sat eating a boiled egg near the beach in Waterville, but ultimately decided he'd rather play hide n seek for a while than actually come out. My knees kind of twinge every once in a while and whenever I'm not moving on the bike I have a headache in my temples like someone is driving screws into them. Wonder if it's a tension headache or if it's from something I ate.

Up the Coomakesta Pass from Waterville, blown helpfully up the last few metres by a powerful wind. Glorious views from up there, so of course it's where all the coaches stop for a while. Downhill all the way to Caherdaniel, the whole town sunbathing while its neighbours were spritzed. Had green tea in the Blind Piper and met two fellow cyclists in there. From Caherdaniel, it wasn't too much farther on to Sneem--just through some Misty Mountains, past Smog's treasure room (I was totally channeling the Hobbit at the time, as if Bilbo had had a bicycle)...

In Sneem the sun came out for a while again, and I sat by a shop on the river soaking it up. Decided to be brave and adventurous, so I called Mickey the Bags to ask about where would be a good place to camp for the night (since it was at least sunny at the time). "Ah, you must be Jam. ...oh no, you can stay here, I've got a spare room and all"

...Why not?

Flashback: while in Killarney on day six, outside the hostel with BK, I met an older woman who was asking me about my bike and my trip so far and all that, impressed and saying I was the first person she'd met cycle touring Ireland alone. We clicked somehow and ended up talking on that street corner for hours, about all sorts of things. I finally had to go up into the hostel and she had a bus to catch but when she found out I was passing thru Sneem, she insisted I look up her brother, a musician there, and another friend and neighbour with lots of land she was sure he'd let me camp on. She gave me phone numbers, details, and texted her brother that I'd be by on Tuesday night and to say hello. She also offered her own house to me in Tralee, where she lives, and where I will also be passing thru.

So I called her brother and he said he'd come up in the car and he did and we put BK in the boot with my luggage and drove off to his little unfinished house nestled in the mountains by some falls in one of the most ancient and magical parts of this island.

How do I describe my night here? This musician's in his sixties, long gray hair tied back in a ponytail, low quiet voice, constant conversation. Talking to him is like uncoiling a fraying rope, subjects and thoughts and musings and anecdotes bristling out of the main braid but still connected to each other. We sat in his sitting room sipping tea and talking for ages, surrounded by walls stuffed with books, instruments (including an alto sax) on the chairs, leaning in the corners, suspended in the rafters. A small black stove burning peat and wood in the centre. Abstract paintings leaning up against a wall of books. As we talked he'd often remember the book he got something from, bring it to me, until my lap was overflowing with books and CDs and whatever else we were speaking of.

A friend and neighbour of his came over and we just enjoyed each other's company. Mickey started drinking coffee with a splash of whiskey in it and grew more animated as the night wore on. Imminently philosophical and jocund. I stayed up till one in the morning just listening to him, watching the gaffer tape that holds his glasses flapping about as he looked up Daoist poems or sung the praises of Dorothy Parker. It started to rain and get really windy out so it was really nice to be here, inside, warm and dry and ever-entertained.

I did have to collapse at one tho', crawling under the duvet on the mattress upstairs. Once the lights were out the darkness in this country cottage was complete. Mickey did a bit of recording downstairs, and I drifted off while music came and went below.

That's why this post is coming up the next morning, and not last night. Too busy enjoying human company. Mickey seemed absolutely chuffed to have a visitor. This is real Ireland; these are the stories of the people who populate this island, far from the tourist traps and circulating foreigners enjoying the views but forever distant and removed from the essence of the places they're seeing. This is why I get on my bike and kick up my heels and just go. Trust people. Enjoy people. Make new friends.

Who can explain this, replicate this? Only a metaphysical poet or an alchemist.

Pax.

Day eight

Breakfast: whole pack of bacon (something like ten slices), two fried egg yolks, boil-in-a-bag rice, tea, mango fruit juice smoothie. I also boiled two eggs to carry with me as snacks today. Hostels are nice because you can spend like a tenner on food and get two or three meals out of it. This hostel only cost €8 a night, too. If I could find hostels like this every night I wouldn't need the camping gear...

(I just realised that in my past few posts the tenses might be a bit confusing in how they switch from present to past and back again. What I usually do is start the post in the morning with a paragraph or two, then get going, maybe add a little more at lunch if I've got something in my head, and finish the post up when stopped for the evening. I try to keep the tenses sensical but of course one's instinct is to use the present when speaking of the present, etc.)

It was pissing rain all morning again and the clouds were hanging down low between the hills. Went off the main road to cycle around the foothills of Macgillycuddy's Reeks to see some nice, if wet and shrouded, views of Lough Acoose and Caragh. I was mostly out of traffic on back roads until I cleared Lough Caragh. Even saw a red fox trotting along the verge until a van scared it into the bushes. Lots of mossy forest and crossing streams on little bridges. I never get tired of that.

Back on the main ring of Kerry road, the N70, just before Glenbeigh, where I had lunch. Most expensive lunch yet, but good. Smoked salmon salad with a HUGE portion of salmon. I explained my allergies to the waitress but the first plate came out with couscous on it and I had to send it back since couscous is not safe for celiacs. Felt like a jerk; argh, I hate food intolerances. Met a fellow gluten-free guy in the restaurant tho'. American on a hiking tour. Sipped tea and talked to him and two other girls for a nice lunch.

Lots of traffic until Cahersiveen, but wonderful views of the patchwork hills and the sea. Could only just see the sun on the horizon: a sliver of ocean glowing white were it kisses the sky. I also passed thru/nearby Kells, which was cool metaphysically, if an unremarkable place these days.

Overall today was pretty cold, especially on the windy, wet descents. It's pretty windy tonight. I hope it blows all the rain and mist away. (...wishful thinking, I know.)

I'm in the Sive Hostel in Cahersiveen now. It's €15, but certainly not twice as good as the last place. Location location. And this is the first time I've had to lock my bike up outside, come to think of it. The B&Bs all have garages or sheds and the hostels had storage rooms or let me carry the bike up and shove her under the bed. She's locked to a pole in the back garden but I feel sorry for her. Poor BK out in the wind and only kindasorta out of the rain.

I think it might be the first time I'll have to share a hostel dorm with a man, as well. Some French hetero couple were in here chillin' when I came in. Blasting music on a phone and not really paying attention to me. Whatevs.

Traditional Irish music in the pub across the street tonight. I was gonna go have a pint of cider and listen but then I decided it reminds me too much of an ex-beau and I'm heartbroken again because that's the way it is. I can hear it from here tho'. At least there's no banjo.

Daaaang my back's been itching like crazy past few days, and of course just in the spots I can't reach properly...

Going to sleep now 'cause I'm tired. Sneem tomorrow, which will be a short day. If there's no hostel I might try to ask if I can camp in the field of the farmer who's friends with the brother of the lady I met in Killarney two days ago. We'll see.

Pax.

Day seven

Today is a rest day for me in Killarney. Tomorrow I will start the Ring of Kerry, which will bring me back here in three days, where I'll catch a train to Tralee (skipping the Dingle peninsula to save time) and from there cycle into County Clare.

Slept in, then went to Mass at local cathedral at noon. The building is of course beautiful, but, as an ex-Catholic, Mass always makes me feel a little strange. Nostalgic, a bit sad, out of place. It also reminds me of Franciscan University and I get a little lonely, remembering my friends and professors and all there, many of whom I won't get to see again.

So today I'm a bit lonely and still headachey. I'm going to take a nap, eat something, wander around a bit, eat again. Get ready to start the Ring of Kerry tomorrow.

I need to stop eating so much gluten free processed food because I don't think my body can handle it in these quantities. Like, I had a whole GF cake for breakfast with my tea today. Legally GF stuff here has to be less than 20 ppm (parts per millon) gluten, but if you eat a lot of it you can build up traces in your system until you have a reaction. I don't want that to happen...! More rice and fish for me then. And eggs and bacon and canned beans and peas and peanut butter and trail mix... Daddy told me I should be eating up to 5000 calories a day while on the road, so I don't feel guilty about anything. Doing my best to eat when hungry and keep plenty of snacks to hand--apples, bananas, avocados, trail mix, skittles. (for those of you unfamiliar with my dietary restrictions, I cannot have milk products, soy, or the gluten found in wheat, barley, rye, and oats. I have autoimmune reactions to these things that can last days to weeks and come with a whole host of unpleasant symptoms.)

Mama and Daddy called me last night, which was nice. We talked for an hour or two. I needed that I think. I do miss them a lot. For my whole topsy-turvy life (Dublin is my 21st physical address, remember) it was my mama, daddy, and sister who were constants, y'know? When all the other people and places kept changing.

...I've had the chorus of a song that I made up stuck in my head all day. It doesn't even have like proper words yet, so it's like an annoying person sitting in my head humming the same thing over and over...

I left one of my favourite earrings in the Old Convent hostel, so today I bought a cool new one off a street vendor. Wandered in and out of shops. Found a café named after me (pictured above). Walked a bit along the road, but am trying to take it easy on my knees, so I didn't walk thru the national park here. Instead I shared a ride in a horse-drawn cart (got to sit in front since I wasn't with the group in the back) thru the forest, past the breathtaking lake and islands, to Ross castle and around nearby. The horse's name was Rosie, and she's half Clydesdale. Fellow driving the cart was sweet too. Thick Kerry accent; wore a cowboy hat.

Killarney is full of tourists, but rightfully so. It's nestled in some amazing scenery. Smells Irish.

Misty, overcast day. Hope it doesn't mean rain tomorrow. But no matter what, I'm sure Kerry will live up to its stunning reputation.

Pax.

Day six

Waking up with headache not good sign. Ah well. Caffeine will fix it.

Breakfast: orange juice, tea, fried eggs, bacon, tomato. I'll probably have an apple as soon as I start rolling as well. Having a hot breakfast is nice and all, but my food-intolerance-induced paranoia won't let me feel completely comfortable with food coming out of someone else's kitchen. Even if it is all just fried stuff that really shouldn't have touched bread or milk. (one thing I do like: I don't have to ask about what kind of oil things were fried in, 'cause you can't really get soybean oil here; it's all sunflower or rapeseed oil.) Been okay so far at least. I would prefer hostels if I could find them, tho. Should be a few in Killarney actually, if I can make it that far tonight.

Still overcast this morning, but not raining right now. I'll be prepared for it at any rate. It's funny tho, how my instinct is to get out of the rain immediately, even if I have all the proper gear on and am not cold. Back in the mountains on day three, when it really started coming down, I sat under some pine trees on an embankment for a while, out of the worst of it but slowly getting colder from lack of movement. There was no real reason to stop other than some unconscious aversion to heavy rain. Do you guys think this is something everyone has in common? Some sort of human instinct developed as soon as we invented/discovered watertight shelters? Or is it just me?

(Andy, to answer your question on my last post: the rain is still typically Irish in its frequency, but it was worse in the mountains for sure.)
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Mist and light rain all morning. I know the ring of Beara is supposed to be amazing and all, but I actually think the coast road from Lauragh to Tuosist is nicer. Flatter, too. Nice views of the sea and opposite coast, and a bit of lush forest as well.

Sun broke thru the clouds just before Kenmare, where I stopped for a delicious quinoa and egg salad, along with gluten-free biscuits and an organic banana from a health food store. Kenmare--in fact, this whole peninsula--was full of cyclists doing the Ring of Kerry charity cycle. It's a 180 kilometre cycle starting and ending in Killarney. I'm going to do roughly the same route myself, but over three days instead of one.

Today however I met them all in Kenmare--thousands of them. The N71 north to Killarney was closed to traffic just for them, which was brilliant. I joined in on the last 30 kms of their route. From Kenmare there's a long, steady uphill of 10 km thru Moll's gap, which of course I did very slowly and was passed by just about everyone. Those I did pass, I had to remind myself they'd just done 150 kms and I'm nothing special after only 50 :P

The real fun began at the downhill all the way to Killarney. I strapped my ROAM to my handlebars and tried to film some of it; we'll see if it turns out. I felt like I was on my own little tour de Ireland, haha, passing everyone, zooming along due to how heavy my loaded bike is compared to theirs. It was like 20 kms of almost pure downhill and I was reaching 45 kph for a lot of it. Doing that road car-free was such a blessing. And being around all those cyclists gave me tons of refreshing energy, too. They'll talk to you for a spell, encourage you, cheer for you. One guy I met, talked to, and passed, later passed me resting and shouted, GO COLORADO!

We reached Killarney in style and I was shunted to the finish line with all the others even tho' I hadn't started at the start. Felt a bit silly going with them on my bike loaded down with gear etc. Of course a lot of people tho't I'd gone the whole way with it... I explained to people when I could, but again, we're talking thousands of cyclists. I did feel a bit of a hero. Sprinting finish. My total mileage today was only about 80 km tho'.

Town is full of cyclists now, resting their weary legs. Three hostels I checked were full up. I'm in Paddy's Palace now, right on the main drag, with my bike shoved up under the bed in a four-bed room. Other girls here are American too. Friendly.

Tomorrow will be a rest day so I'm booked in for two nights. Means tomorrow is sleeping in! I'll still post a little something tho'. Not sure how I'll spend my rest day yet.

Pax.