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Doing Dingle

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 Today was a proper game of two halves. This morning being largely a struggle through the rain, endless hills, headwind and busy roads but this afternoon back to what I’ve become familiar with. Quiet, cracking scenery and acceptable hills.  But I’ll get to that.  I woke at 6am to the sound of rain. I then woke at 7:15 still to the sound of rain. I finally gave up around 8:30, still with rain but now with the added delight of the sound of a German chap in the tent next to me having a long, monotone, and very much one way conversation on his phone. With a huff, I shuffled out of my tent and took refuge in the campsite orangery. Well, an area covered by corrugated plastic with plants in it. And settled into coffee and pastries procured from last night’s SuperValu escapade. By the time I’d finished, the rain had eased and I packed up ready to head off. As I was leaving, a fellow camper asked where I was off to.  “Dingle” “Oh that should only take you a couple of hours” “...
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Beauty, Brutality & Beaches

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 Thunderstorms were forecast. Any plans I had for an early start were promptly thwarted by me waking up at 9am. Having prepped the night before I made short work of packing up and getting on the road. For all of 300m where I came across a Spar shop made for people who need breakfast.  Coffee, pastries, apple juice all eaten on a wet picnic bench by the side of the N71. But food is food.  Having demolished that little lot I set about the day ahead. A shorter day at 115km with just the 10 climbs.  I was delighted to quickly rejoin the best cycle path in the world which took me through woodland and the Muckross House estate. The notable addition from yesterday was a boat load of pony & traps, transporting tourists from the town up to the House itself.  Having negotiated that, the path led me onto the climb from Killarney back up to Molls Gap. The climb itself was never too steep, was reasonably quiet and heavily featured EU tarmac. The views were sublime as I m...
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Wet & Wild

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 My campsite last night just kept on giving.  This morning I woke to grey clouds, but no rain.  Then it started raining.  Then it stopped. I see. It was going to be one of those days was it.  I made light work of packing up, adept as I was by now of putting everything in its rightful place. A French family had made themselves at home on the table I’d propped my bike against: “you have a lot of little pockets” said Dad, with a wonderful French accent. “Oui” said I.  Then it started raining again. And didn’t stop for 4 hours. It was going to be one of  those  days This morning’s breakfast of kings comprised pastries procured from the shop last night. I was one down having devoured that with a handful of jelly babies in the night to stave off a particularly gnarly hypo.  And energy I would need. Garmin delighted in advising me that I had 14 climbs to contend with today, 10 of which would come in the first 30km. Eventually, when I realised that I...
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