Ring of Kerry

We fully anticipated a day of driving rain and bitter cold, this being the Atlantic coast and mid-November. Instead, we had balmy weather and, if not bright sunshine, then at least high cloud and good light.

From the island of Valentia, looking seawards ...



About 8 miles out are the rocky outcrops of Skellig Beag and Skellig Michael, the latter the home to some very hardy monks between the 6th and 12th Centuries. There was a lot of sea mist. To the eye, this meant that the islands were distinct but black silhouettes, appearing to float eerily above the surface of the sea. Unfortunately, cheap Samsung optics were not able to capture this adequately, but you can see them if you squint ...



Protecting one of the passes since 1994 was Our Lady Of Grace Coomanaspig, who had a small receptacle for offerings ...



... but it would be more in hope than expectation, I think ...



Another breath-taking panoramic view among hundreds ...



... and another ...



The lakes in Killarney National Park, as the light was fading in the late afternoon ...



... and the day was drawing to a close ...



The weather was unreasonably kind, and we had a very satisfactory day. Not only was it mild and dry, but being mid-November we more or less had it to ourselves. I can imagine in Summer it could be appalling, as many of the roads are barely wide enough for a single car, never mind a coach tour, and apparently it gets packed, but for us it was a beautiful and uplifting place.

Tomorrow, the lakes again in good light, and a trip round the South-West corner to end up in Kinsale. The forecast, not unreasonably, is for lots of rain.

Bring it on - we have the kit, and haven't worn it yet.

Clifden Farmhouse

I'm not going to bore you with every B&B I have stayed in on this trip, and every meal I have photographed before eating, but I want to post a recommendation for the first B&B we stayed in after we left Dublin, as the experience was really special:

Clifden Farmhouse
Hospital Road
Clifden, Co. Galway
00 353 (0) 95 21263
clifdenfarmhouse@hotmail.com
www.clifden-farmhouse-connemara.net
N53.490441
W10.013886

It's situated on a hill on the edge of the town, about 10 minutes' walk from the fleshpots of Clifden, as part of a working farm. That means it isn't pretty-pretty, but the views are spectacular. Here's the view one way ...



... and here's the other ...



Don't expect IKEA furniture and Laura Ashley curtains. It's clean and modern, but far from trendy. Just how I like it, in fact. Everything worked*, the bed was comfy, and the 'Full Irish' breakfast (same as a Full English, but further West) was an all-dayer. Best of all, the welcome was friendly, genuine and fulsome. I had phoned the owner, Mrs Coyne, the day before to book, but by the time we got there she had wisely decamped to Lanzarote for a well-earned break, leaving the operation in the charge of her daughters.

In the hospitality trade, there is a fine balance to be drawn between over-familiarity on the one hand and over-formality or, worse, unctuousness on the other. I'd rather be called 'mate' than 'Sir', I suppose, but rather than either of those I like to be greeted with polite but genuine friendliness. As if I matter, but not too much. The girls managing the B&B delivered this in spades, and we left with genuine regret.

I mentioned to Mairead that I wrote a blog with a mainly motorcycling audience, and asked if they had any objection to motorcyclists as guests. Not at all, not at all, was the response, so I asked if they minded if I gave a recommendation to any bikers touring the area. They said they were happy with that.

So, if you are touring the West Coast of Ireland and need somewhere to stay in the area NW of Galway, you would not be disappointed if you stayed here. Fabulous, remote and beautiful scenery, and a great place to lay your head and let the bike cool down a bit.

We'll be visiting the area again, and where we will stay is a no-brainer.

*I'm lying again. I couldn't get the iPhone or the lapdog to connect to the free wi-fi, although this has not been a problem elsewhere. However, since one of the brothers set up all the IT in the house and it works for everyone else, I'm sure this is something that could be resolved if it really mattered. For me, it didn't matter enough to make a fuss about.

Some Views of Ireland 2

Some stunning scenery, making me wish I had brought my Nikon DSLR. I'm having to make do with the iPhone (rubbish) and a finders-keepers Samsung P1000, worth about £20 if it was working properly, which it isn't. So any moody, muted colours and creative soft-focus shooting are not down to any talent of mine, but crap optics.

We drove from Dublin to Galway and then up a long and challenging road across some wonderfully remote bog and moorland to Clifden. I was happy on that road up to about 50 mph, but the White Van Man behind clearly wasn't, so I pulled off into a layby to let him through, nearly wrecking the front suspension on two huge concealed potholes in the process. The mountains were starting to close in.



The many small loughs here often have little islands in the middle, often with ruined buildings hidden in the scrub, and I had a pleasant fantasy involving a lottery win and complete retirement from the human race.



That evening, Anna expressed (or, rather, re-expressed for the ninetieth time) her desire to see the sun go down over Galway Bay and the Atlantic Ocean. This, and the shortened day, was the reason we took the motorway from Dublin rather than the pretty and winding option. However, a good look at the map persuaded us that this was not possible - not without a 30-mile walk, anyway - but we set off for an evening stroll in any case, just as the light was fading. For one thing, we found that Irish estate agents had not lost their sense of humour ...



... and that the Irish are protective of people's rights to walk a pretty walk without getting mown down by cars (the sign advising of a €150 fine for dog mess wasn't quite so photogenic) ...



We ended the walk with this view, the nearest we got to a Galway Bay Sunset. It was good enough.



Tomorrow will see us driving the Ring Of Kerry, and more moody, out-of-focus photo-opportunities, so keep checking back. This B&B has awesome wi-fi. The router is literally a foot from the bedroom door, and it's waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay better than what we have at home.

Some Views of Ireland

A walk in the pouring rain around Rush Harbour ...



Down soaking wet streets to the Harbour Bar ...



And a pint in front of the fire.



Alfie (11 years) and Dot (5 months) ...



Window display at Connemara Tweeds, Clifden ...



Detail -



No wonder polar bears are the poster children for the greenies. I had to forcibly stop Anna from breaking in and stealing them.

Stena Plus

A recommendation for you, if you are ever crossing between Fishguard and Rosslare on the Stena Line ferry: pay the extra and travel Stena Plus. For an extra 16 quids per person per crossing, you get:

• Access to a quiet lounge
• Comfy chairs (those aircraft-type things, but also proper armchairs)
  
• Free red or white wine, soft drinks, coffee, tea, chocolate etc
• Free pastries, nibbles, fruit, etc
• A steward to look after you
• A restaurant in the quiet area so you can eat in peace and quiet
  
• Papers, TV and free internet and wi-fi
• (cough) A slightly more exclusive class of fellow-traveller.

You turn up, you are greeted and treated as a human being, couple of glasses of wine, you can rest or sleep, you can fill up on biscuits and cakes, and read the papers or watch TV or surf the net until you arrive. For £16 a head it is a complete bargain. The Ireland ferry has a reputation for being a drinkers' special, and this way you avoid all that.

We have done this for the last two crossings, and have decided that we will never travel any other way. Highly recommended.

All a matter of size

It is often said that American riders like their big, heavy Harleys because of all the straight roads in the States, whereas we like our sportsbikes because we have all the curves. But it's a matter of distance, too. On our crowded little island, we have no idea of how immense the USA really is.

Browsing the Triumph Rat forum, I came across this website: a map of the UK overlaid on a map of the USA. You can click and drag the UK map around, just for fun. I found it interesting and enlightening, and maybe you will too.

I live in the bottom left-hand corner of Wales (that's the bit sticking out to the left of the mainland, to those unfamiliar with British geography), and a good day's ride for me would be to cover perhaps half of that promontory. That would be perhaps the corner of just one state in the US. Riding 'coast to coast' takes on a whole new meaning. I did about 350 miles on the Bonneville last weekend, and it was about enough. It's not a bike built for big distances (the bike is capable of it, but the rider isn't so sure). Looking at the map overlay, you can see why a big heavy cruiser, with long wheelbase and laid-back, feet-forward armchair comfort, is the popular choice for American riders.

The place is huge. I need to go there, hire a Harley, and ride.

Oop North

Tomorrow I leave Westest Wales to go Northwards to Newcastle for a family wedding. I have a pretty route planned for the way there, and an even prettier one for the way back. The fuel tank is filled, the chain is oiled, the tyres are pumped up, and the wedding suit is crushed in to one of the panniers, along with the smartest shoes I possess. And a tie, probably.

I am taking the lapdog with me, as the hotel has indicated there is free wi-fi (probably in the bar so you will drink more, but that's fine by me). But it's a family occasion, and I don't get to see them very often, so I may post from Tyneside and I may not. Play nicely while I am away.

Oh, and by the way I am taking this with me:



It is in case anything needs lubricating while I am away.

In case you are wondering, it is no longer a can of WD-40 maintenance spray. It has had its insides taken out and replaced with a stainless steel flask, capacity about a quarter of a bottle. It is currently brimming with Famous Grouse.

It was made for me by one of my friends in Denmark, who is a fabricator by trade, and it has his name engraved on the base. Other than that, you cannot tell that it is not the real thing (until you pick it up, of course, as it is way heavier than it looks). If you take the red cap off, the white squirty button is still there; it just doesn't do anything. It would take a proper examination to discover that it wasn't an innocent can of light oil spray. Apparently, the Police in Denmark don't like people travelling with alcohol about their persons, so motorists and bikers have to resort to subterfuge if they want to take a snifter with them. I am taking it as a specific against hotel bar prices.

Anna wants to know if I dare to go into the main hotel bar with it and ask "could I please have some soda to go with this?"

Heh. I'll let you know.

Information is Beautiful

Here's my website of the week: Information Is Beautiful. It's a site with lots of graphics of statistics, presented in a visually appealing way. Thought-provoking, too - sometimes you need a visualisation to help you understand things the conscious mind finds too abstract. The idea of the billions of pounds being flung around to 'promote recovery', for example. Once the figures get into the hundred billions, my mind goes blank. This graphic helps you see the relative sizes of the figures, and there are some surprises. Check out the size of the Iraq war, compared to feeding every child in the world for a year, for example. (That's not a political point there, by the way, but it makes you think). Click on the image for the full thing.



Or how about this: the Walled World? I had never thought about the world in this way before (well maybe I have, but not at this level of detail). The Israeli wall in Palestine suddenly fits into a much larger picture. It's like we in the West are living in a gated community. Not necessarily a bad thing (living in the West is pretty good, I reckon), but when you see the huge spaces outsidde the 'Wall', you start wondering all sorts of stuff. Like 'I want to go there'. Again, click for a better view.



There, that's something else to gobble up your time. Say thank you.

It's Denmark

A decision has been made. Denmark it is. Reasons:

• Never been there
• Chance to go abroad on the bike (never done that)
  
• Chance to use the Channel Tunnel (never done that either)
• Interest in runes, and Dark Ages history generally
• Offer from a local to show me the best bits
• Chance to meet new people (although this is a bit of an aventure too, as I have no idea if they are middle-aged sprocket-polishers or Hell's Angels wannabees intent on shooting rivals using my bike as the getaway vehicle - but the bikes-only dedicated year-round campsite sounds promising)
• European beer, in quantities.

And hell, it's an adventure. Why not? Some day I'll be too old for all this stuff.

I now have a new tent!

Decisions ...

Just as I had been doing a bit of thinking and decided that the bike trip was going to be one of two options:

• Four corners of the UK (the complete coastline is either 3,000 or 4,000 miles, depending on how close to the coast you make your route, but the four geographic extremes would be doable in a week)
• Millau Viaduct and back, via a few Alpine passes and some interesting French bits

I had a conversation with Anna and she came up with another idea, which seems to be rather better than either of the above.

Anna knows a guy in Denmark (long story, something to do with games played over the interweb) who is about my age and a stone-bonkers biker. She mentioned my proposed trip to him, and he has offered a place on his campsite in Denmark for a week. Not only that, but he has also offered to take a week off work and show me round the country. How can I refuse an offer like that?

Answers on a postcard to the usual address ...

Freedom

Oh yes! Someone's been listening to me.



Pity about all the screamers!!! Adding exclamation marks almost always gives writing less impact rather than more, and makes you look like a 14-year-old.

The sentiments are good, though.

Thanks to Obnoxio.

And on the other hand ...

There's France. And Italy. And Switzerland. And those lovely lumpy bits between them.

Advantages of a French Raid:

• More exciting and interesting
• Fulfils the 'get away from it all' function better
• Strangely, shorter distance (yes, I've looked at the UK coast, and there is a lot of it)
• Crossing the Channel (always liked ferries; chance to try the Tunnel)
  
• Weather, and therefore camping comfort
• Food, drink, people
• Chance to give the Honda a really good leg-stretch
• Pose potential, before, during and after.

I've been looking at a UK road atlas, and if I were to really trace the UK coastline (as opposed to motor around the main roads by the sea) it would be an immense undertaking. Even taking Nick Sanders' rule of 'no travelling down dead ends', there is just so much road there. It's a bit like walking the dog: I reckon that when I walk the dog, there is about a 10:1 ratio between my distance covered and his. For this expedition, there would be about 10 miles of road for every mile of country travelled. If that makes sense.

Plus it's tanking it down again outside.

France, hmmmmmmmmmmm.

Only in The Netherlands

Perhaps I should go there instead.

Beware - random thoughts

I've been turning over a few ideas for how to make the best use of my 'temporary visa'. I'll be mulling things over in the next few days before making a decision about where to go, what to do, and what to do it on. Prepare for a lot of unco-ordinated nonsense on this blog, therefore.

It seems crazy, having just ridden to work through some heavy drizzle (interspersed with periods of rain, with occasional showers) on a day which is more like late October than the beginning of August, but I am quite inclined to the UK coast option. Principal reasons are:

• I've never done it, and it would take me to parts of the UK that I have never seen
• I would be closer to home in case of emergency (not necessarily true in the case of the North of Scotland, but it would feel that way)
• If anything went belly-up (major breakdown, illness, just got fed up with it), it would be easier to abort
• No pesky forrin currency issues
• No need for travel insurance - I am already covered by RAC for what I need.

Reasons against are:

• Weather - no comment
• The tent I will be using is untested, but was the cheapest we could find when the grandchildren wanted to camp out (never happened, so it's never been out of its bag) and so is a kind of 'emergency use only' device, and while you can get away with minimal tentage in France, the UK in September may be risking it a bit
• I think the tent was under £20 - it may be in the category of 'festival', i.e. use once and throw in a hedge
• That's it, really.

I've done a fair bit of camping and have a lot of the gear, although the lightweight stuff is quite elderly by now as recent camping trips have been by car, where comfort has a premium over lightweightness.

I'll have a similar think about the France option, and post about that in due course.

Cabin Fever

Regular readers will know that I had planned a trip by bike to Europe this year. Last year, returning from a damp stay in Périgord, Anna finally agreed that a French holiday by bike would be a good idea. Having been dangling suggestions for the same for many years, I was plainly delighted at the prospect, and even sold the Ducati to fund a serious 2-up tourer, viz. the Honda Pan-European.

Then all the crappy stuff happened earlier this year, and these plans were put on hold. We have had a talk about it all, and realistically it ain't going to happen in 2009. I have promised her a long weekend away in the caravan, somewhere fairly easy to get to, perhaps in September or October. Then today, wonderful person that she is, she suggested that I should go away on the bike myself for a while. We're at the point where she can be left unattended for a day or two, so this is feasible.

I am very lucky to be married to this person. How many wives would suggest that?

To be honest, I have had cabin fever for months now. The last holiday was a year ago, and it was a bit of a washout, although pleasant in many ways. We've had all these health issues, and I have been put down to three days a week at work, which has let to a lot of stresses and strains there as I try to keep all my plates in the air on 40% less time and 40% less money. Work has stopped being fun, and much of my free time has been spent on sites like Horizons Unlimited or reading travellers' tales in the bike comics, just daydreaming. I have also spent a lot of time fettling the XT - it has needed some work, to be sure, but at the back of my mind I have been making it fit for a journey, possibly a long one, not just my daily 25 miles to work and back.

So you might say I jumped at the suggestion. I felt a bit bad even discussing it, as the most exciting times that Anna has at the moment are hospital visits (she's on first name terms with about a hundred people there) and the occasional car trip to see the sea, and for me to swan off to Le Continong would seem to be rubbing salt into the wound. But the clincher was Anna's observation that next year at this time, it might be me sitting at home and waiting for the District Nurse to call and give me my meds. She thinks I should do it while I am able to.

Now, I am 55 and not yet a complete wreck, but the signs of ageing are there, and I am a firm believer that you should live for today, as tomorrow may never come. So I am turning over in my mind a couple of ideas; things which have been "one day ... " plans for when the time was right.

1. Ride the British coastline, all the way round, staying as close to the sea as possible. Total distance, about 3k miles, but within reasonable distance of home if I were to be needed in a hurry. I would be mainly on minor roads for this one, so the XT would be the bike of choice, and realistically I would need to allow about 10 days. Hmm... I see from this month's Bike magazine that Nick Sanders is doing exactly the same thing on a crossplane crank R1. Damn - I'll look like a copycat. Oh well, at least he admits that the R1 isn't the ideal kit for the minor roads he is on, so the XT would be perfect, and I can surely get some good tips for places to visit.

2. Ride across, and photograph, the Millau Viaduct in France. This would be a quick there-and-back-again trip of about 2k miles. At warp speeds, this would be a day there and a day back, plus two overnight ferry crossings. The Honda is the obvious tool for this option. I could spread the trip out over about a week, which would give me some quality French chilling time, which I badly need. Last summer, we spent some time with British expats in the Dordogne, and for the first time ever I seriously considered moving there for good. I love the French lifestyle, I know enough of the language not to starve, and they have all the sunshine that we don't get here in Wales.

Plus, I always lose weight when I go to France, despite all the wine and cheese and wonderful bread. The food there just suits me.

This would be the object of the trip:



Sleeping will be in a tent, whichever option I choose. My reduced income means that B&B would be unaffordable in either France or the UK, but I like camping, and if I don't leave it too long the temperatures should be bearable.

If I could find some internet access along the way, I could even blog the trip! I've never travelled alone before, at least not for a significant journey like this one, so that will be a novelty too. I'm pretty good with my own company, so I don't foresee a problem there.

Ho hum, lots of thinking to do.

If anyone has any suggestions, please feel free.