THE WILD ATLANTIC WAY.......

Mandy's flight arrived on time at Shannon Airport as the sun set and we were soon tucked away at Bunratty again for the night celebrating her safe arrival with a pint at Durty Nellies adjacent to the castle which was illuminated in green by night. A duo of musicians entertained us before we retired for the night. Revisiting Bunratty  (for me) was a chance to see the excellent buildings and displays again, chat to some of the staff  and explore the castle once more before we headed over to Doolin for a night behind Mc Dermotts pub where we met Pete and Nina who had made an unexpected visit to Ireland for a family funeral. It was a great opportunity to catch up as we last saw them in October and the excellent food and drinks combined for a memorable evening. We went our separate ways on Sunday morning and walked down to Doolin village before moving on to the small harbour for our boat trip to view the spectacular Cliffs Of Moher although due to a choppy sea I almost viewed my breakfast. The Cliffs were a spectacular sight despite the seas and after a safe return we moved on to a perfect wild spot high on the Burren looking down over the small village of Fanore. Crossing over the mountains we dropped down to Kinvarra and stopped briefly to look at Dunguaire Castle where thoughtless tourists thought nothing of stopping on a blind corner for that all important photo from the car.

 

Moving on to Galway we bought a replacement fuel can at Halfords before parking in the centre adjacent to the remarkable stone cathedral first dedicated in 1965 with a stunning interior combining ancient traditions with modern interpretations and superb stonework. We walked down the short and fast flowing Corrib river that drains Loch Corrib passing the old salmon catching infrastructure and weirs before watching two cranes carefully offloading huge turbine blades on to bespoke lorries with an adjustable chassis and rear wheel steering. 

 

 

 

 We passed through the maze of streets around the compact centre and on a whim stopped at a pizza parlour that was open for its first trial day. Both pizzas were excellent but we saved some for later and then followed the old canal back to the van and then drove to park out at Salthills and walk the long promenade in strong sunshine and a fresh breeze. The iconic diving platform at the west end was also a place for a few hardy souls intent on swimming but few stayed in for long. After an ice cream on the way back we moved on a few miles to park at the small harbour just west of Spiddeal on a beautiful bay with a couple of other vans. We walked round the coast in to Spiddeal itself and then returned for a very quiet night.

A water tap on the pier enabled us to fill up - good old Park4Night being a godsend to find these services and resting places - before deciding to sit out two days of unsettled weather slightly inland before a trip to Innishmore, the largest of the three Arrran Islands. Thus we turned north and stopped at a camper service point at Gortmore where we dealt with the loo and planned to return in a couple of days for a spell of EHU and a water top up. Then heading east we arrived at the small Derroura mountain bike trailhead. We both enjoyed the blue run including some sections of boardwalk before I tackled the longer red run whilst Mandy had a relax in the van and made lunch. The red route climbed high up for excellent views of Loch Corrib before descending via some swooping trails back to the car park where as always I appreciated the opportunity for a hot shower before eating. We moved on to Oughterard but decided against staying behind the cafe and spent a couple of hours cycling along the Glann road which eventually petered out at a couple of farms but continued as a footpath through to An Mam. We decided to return to the large quiet carpark at Derroura and were joined by two other vans who predictably and unnecessarily parked right alongside.

 Anyway it was a quiet night for all with some rain but things dried up the following day as we took another mountain road through the Galway Wind Farm whose owners have created a number of walking trails that passed right by some of the turbines. Information boards provided some remarkable statistics including the fact that over an average year a turbine tip will travel the equivalent of 46 times round the world! Lunch on a track leading to several large areas of peat cutting was followed by a descent to the coast where we took minor roads to explore the three islands linked by causeways of Lettermore, Gorumna and Lettermullan where a small pier on the latter provided a superb place for a quiet night as the tide edged in. We called at the spectacular coral beach of Doilin Bay where instead of sand tiny coral fragments were piled up and also included a remarkable number and variety of coloured shells. Round at Rossaveel we parked on the quayside for 7 euro a night and bought our tickets. We walked up to the embarkation point and round to the working port as two helicopters came in from the islands to offload what looked like filming equipment. A short walk the other way brought us to a pub for a pint of Guinness before a peaceful night on the waterfront.

 

 

As hoped Friday dawned warm, sunny and calm so we unloaded the bikes, packed sandwiches and joined the line for the 10.30 crossing to Kilronan about 40 minutes away. Return adult fares were 30 euros and 15 for the bikes but having our own meant we were soon away ahead of those intent on hiring and headed west on the north coast road passing the odd horse drawn passenger cart. 

The SatMap enabled us to take unused green lanes down to the coast with unbelievably beautiful bays and tiny stone walled, flower filled fields and then west as far as the road end at Ballydavock before we returned inland and stopped to visit the remarkable triple walled Iron Age Hill Fort of Dun Aonghasa perched on some dramatic cliffs. I had long wondered if it had originally been a circular fort that had succumbed to erosion but apparently it was always effectively a horseshoe shape. An hour on the back road had us back in time for the 5pm ferry after a thoroughly enjoyable day and we returned to the Service Point at Gortmore with the intention of filling up and having power for a couple of hours. Unfortunately despite inserting 4 euros in total neither fresh water nor power materialised so we ended up jury rigging the wc tap to fill the van. Unfortunately as we drove away I took the corner too tightly and we heard an ominous bang followed by a grating noise. The high kerb had caught the support bar for the grey water tank and ripped it from one of its hook bolts but fortunately as we had just emptied it the other bar held the tank in place and there was no tank or bodywork damage. I removed the bar completely and then hammered it straight, did the same with the hook bolt and then managed to get everything back in place, secured by a heavy duty zip tie as it wasn't all quite fully tight. We then moved on to a quiet park up further west and used up some supplies as we'd not passed a shop, grateful that the incident would be easily fixed with 2 new hook bolts in a day or two and that there had been limited damage.

 

The park up was sublime and provided yet more photographic opportunities but we were away for breakfast down a dead end track on the finest beach yet. We found a few cans, bottles  and fast food remains so filled an old feed sack which a local guy who turned up on a quad to retrieve lost lobster pots was happy to take away for us - just like our bothy misuse back home it beggars belief that people will come to these amazing places and leave easily disposed of trash for others to deal with.

Round at Carna we parked up, unloaded the bikes and set off for a day of exploring the numerous lanes and tracks on the Ard peninsula to the west passing some superb new houses and older ones that had been transformed with modern additions and well kept gardens. We passed a few overnight options but then came across a small track down to a bay and beach where we had lunch and thought that would be the prime spot. Back at Carna we loaded up and returned to the lunch spot for a relaxing afternoon and evening with a memorable sunset.

 

At the Sunday Market in Roundstone we bought top quality fruit and veg plus local eggs and a lovely cyanographic print from various stalls before a fascinating encounter with Malachy Kearns, Ireland's premier bod-rhan maker for over 40 years. He was lovely to talk to and even offered us the opportunity to stay the night in his car park as elsewhere overnighting was prohibited. He was looking at options for the future as his marriage had ended and was even considering a van for some travel - a genuinely lovely and gentle guy. His gallery and workshop was full of all things Irish and musical with a lifetime of photos, letters of gratitude, bod-rhans in for repair, ones under construction and a small drinks and cakes counter but it had the air of an enterprise past its peak and I think we were lucky to encounter things as they are now.

Our location for the night was a pub/garage/shop/hardware store known as Keogh's that allowed overnighting in their large car park for 10 euros. We parked up and paid and then set off around the Bunowen Peninsula taking more back lanes and passing a large golf course before finishing up at the pier at Bunowen with a graceful curved bay, white beach and blue sea. The smokehouse was closed for the BH weekend  but we decided we would return and stay the following night in the van. Keoghs was very busy with families but found us a table outside and served two excellent meals washed down with Guinness for me and a white wine for the little lady.

Today we cycled round the Errislannon peninsula, setting off in a light drizzle that soon cleared. We were hugely impressed by the small church with its white pews and then climbed to the Alcock and Brown Memorial that commemorates the first successful transatlantic flight in 1919 that took just under 17 hours with a maximum speed of 115 mph.

 

Back at Keoghs we loaded the bikes and secured the cover, filled up with water from a nearby hydrant and then drove down to Bunowen Bay to park up for the night. Out on the pier we had a long chat to the local fisherman and his mate who were concerned that proposed offshore wind turbines would destroy his livelihood and confirmed our suspicions that the the new and refurbished properties we had seen over the last few days were largely second homes for affluent Dubliners with the knock on effect of housing issues for locals and workers that we have seen in the Lake District, Peak District and elsewhere. He pointed out a property that had recently sold for 2.4 million euros, no wonder one property we had seen had had a Bentley and top of the range Merc on the white gravel drive.

A few hardened locals turned up to wild swim but didn't stay in long but I felt sufficiently inspired to don my wetsuit and do a bit of snorkelling in the crystal clear waters - gloves and a hood are now on the shopping list but I really enjoyed it and reflected on the bizarre variety of life given that the last time I had worn the goggles had been on the Iron Ore train in Mauritania 5 months ago.....

Flics here.....

 

ON THE BOG

 After waiting around in Limerick for three days for Decathlon to replace a simple broken freewheel I had had enough by the Wednesday. I had enjoyed the town of Limerick and the Bunratty attractions and had the van oil and filter changed so was keen to get going again. The garage had refused to use my oil and filter even though they couldn't get the semi synthetic I wanted putting in but it shouldn't do any harm and will be changed again at the end of the year before my winter travels. Whilst hanging about I came up with a third option for Decathlon which that morning they agreed to - basically I upgraded to the same bike but with Shimano Deore gearing, air filled forks and a few other tweaks. I got 15% off the shop price and a full refund on the initial purchase and felt that was a fair deal all round with me paying the balance of about £100. They had been insisting that the bike would have to go off to Dublin for a specialist repair as the replacement wheel was fouling the brake pads and out of true - all developments since it had been in their possession. Anyway I left happy with the deal and drove across to the more or less mid point of the Grand Canal, one of two which link Dublin and the Shannon and parked up at Daingean alongside the tow and cycle path. I set out to test the new wheels and just did a ten mile loop around local lanes on a hot sunny evening before enjoying a pint outside the local pub. The follwing day a 64 mile out and back west along the canal took me to Shannon Harbour via Tullamore where the well stocked if pricey Blakey's Cycle shop supplied and fitted a new bottle and cage. 

 

 

That evening a local guy, Cahel, stopped for a chat about the van and my lifestyle and very kindly insisted on giving me his number should I need any assistance whilst over here - much appreciated. An easier day took me east to Edenderry passing a curious lift bridge that allowed the canal and a narrow gauge railway once used for peat extraction to cross each other. A friendly cafe at the top of town provided hot coffee and a decent sausage roll before I returned to the van pleased that the replacement bike seemed to have been well set up and was as comfy as the other.  With time to spare I returned west a couple of miles to follow a spur off the main canal up to the village of Kilbeggan - well worth doing as the canal dug by the villagers who wanted to be part of the action is now largely filled in but the old harbour and associated warehouse buildings are well worth a look. The following morning after picking up the rubbish left by some youths after their Friday night junk food extravaganza I headed down to the Slieve Boom Mountains where two mountain bike trailheads were beckoning. Ballyoughter deep in the woods looked like the perfect place to spend a night or two with a large level carpark and no facilities other than the boards detailing the choice of routes. I tackled the blue route to test the bike's ability off road and suitably reassured did the red run after lunch as the clouds cleared. The trails were superbly designed and built offering miles of free flowing descents with generally well graded ascents on the forest tracks. Various people turned up for after work rides but by late evening there was just myself and one other van for the night. 

 

 

Sunday dawned bright and sunny and as other riders arrived I set off to repeat part of the previous day's blue route and then take the link lane over to the Offally trails at Kinnitty. These provided yet more hugely enjoyable miles with coffee and a cake at the hut in the grounds of Kinnitty Castle - a 4* hotel that was hosting a meeting of motorcyclists. Returning across to Laois I then picked up the previous day's red trail for a final hour of exhileration to cap off one of the best day's off road riding in recent times. Another quiet night followed a few hours sunbathing before I headed north enjoying extensive views from the high road above the bogs of central Ireland and pulled in at Thomastown on the Royal Canal opposite a pub and restaurant. I rode east the following day as far as Enfield, no not that one, and returned to the van disappointed to find that the pub was shut until Thursday. However I had plenty of good food in stock and enjoyed some IPlayer catch up as it seems that not only does Three not charge their EU Roaming fee in Ireland but they also allow the full unlimited data package I pay for - yet another Brexit quirk.

There was information on the Famine Trail describing how over 1600 people, mostly children, had walked all the way to Dublin to escape starvation and poverty, a bronze cast of a pair of child's shoes added a note of deep poignancy.

 

The following day I rode west to Mullingar with its huge cathedral and had the usual faff sourcing up to date information on Campingaz outlets, eventually finding Outdoor Sports on the small industrial estate out beyond the station. Obviously I wasn't carrying the two empties but reserved two to exchange the following day at the exhorbitant price of 55 euros each. Not the shop's fault as that is the going rate over here and around the £40-£45 mark in the UK - basically a rip off and hard to justify by the owners of Campingaz. Mainland Europe is half that price and I was getting the same size cylinders exchanged for one euro in Morocco so to date my average gas cost has been under a pound a day since leaving in December. If we do use campsites in the next few weeks any EHU at a fiver will be cheaper than gas as a cylinder lasts 7-10 days and once back in the UK I will switch over to FloGas. Using the genny would also be an option in any thoroughly remote locations so there are plenty of options. Incidentally the EcoFlow battery pack has been very useful on those days when the sun has hidden away taking some of the load off the LB and soon charging up as I move around so medium term I might install a 1600w Delta model that could then effectively provide hook up for the van out in the sticks.....

As I returned to the van the heavens opened for the last half hour - my first true soaking in years so after I had loaded up the bike and put the cover on I was grateful for the Eber's heat and a long hot shower. Returning for the gas bottles the next day I also called at an Aldi for supplies and was soon engaged in a conversation with a Spanish guy living over here who was really taken by the van and wanted to know all the ins and outs of van life - Eduardo again kindly offered me the chance to fill up with water as he lived nearby but I had no need as the tank lasts about a week when flying solo.

A short drive to the car park at Streamstown Station placed me mid way along the Old Rail Trail that links Mullingar and Athlone. There is a good clean loo block and water available even though the cafe was closed and there were no signs banning overnight parking so I tucked away in a corner before setting off to Athlone passing through Moate which had another lovely old station. Athlone Abbey alonside the Shannon was impressive and I returned along the same route admiring the carved limestone sculptures, some incorporating buddhist type prayer wheels and reading the boards that explained the formation of the surroundings bog land interspersed with higher eskers. Back at the Streamstown station a volunteer was planting up flower beds and confirmed that staying would be fine and I enjoyed a quiet evening with just one fellow cyclist also stopping to admire the van and very surprised to find it was 22 years old. Remarkably he had been in Mauritania in January as well but had been with a friend and hired a local driver and 4x4 to get down to the Gambia and Senegal - he had heard of the ore train but not actually ridden it - I am very tempted to return in a year or two and try to get further this time - lack of working ATMs and ready cash being the main cause of my stalled attempt this time.

 

Thursday was, after some 250 miles of riding over the last week, a day off with my destination a small campsite at Ballinderry near Lough Derg with a laundry stop on the way. En route I spent an absorbing couple of hours at the remarkable holy site of Clonmacnoise with its two round towers, ruined cathedral and numerous temples. Safely on display in the museum were two of the original and finely decorated crosses - well worth a visit.

 The well maintained campsite had mostly statics with a level grassed area for vans etc. so I arrived after lunch and rang Sean the owner who said to get set up and he would call by later. There was almost no one around so I filled up with water and connected to power as I wanted to give everything a good charge, clean the shower area and generally get ready for Mandy's arrival down at Shannon airport tonight. I got all the laundry dry, swept out, washed out the fridge, checked the various screws and bolts on both bikes, pumped up the tyres, checked the van tyre pressures and wheel bolts and gave the engine bay a wipe round. Following the sandstorms of the Western Sahara it really needs a good blow out with an air gun as there is fine sand in many of the nooks and crannies and then perhaps a deep clean with steam.

Sean has yet to make an appearance so I have dealt with the loo, loaded the bikes, strapped down the cover and completed this update. I am in no hurry to leave as it's only a ninety minute journey with the flight not due in until 10pm. We will stay at Bunratty once more as it's only 15 minutes from the airport - I am in danger of becoming an attraction having already stayed 3 nights.

We will then take our time following the coast clockwise round to Larne from where we will get the ferry across to Scotland with my only commitment a possible farm sit near Brecon in late July.

A few pics here as per usual..

COUNTY CLARE REVISITED AFTER FORTY YEARS....

The short drive to Tarbert put me at the back of the queue for the ferry across the Shannon and although I didn't get on the first one a second arrived within twenty minutes. 

We were soon over to Killimer where I turned East and spent a lovely afternoon and evening on the quayside at Kildysart where the village provide a toilet block accessible by keycode if you ring the number on the door. A charge of 5 euros per night seemed very reasonable and it was a very peaceful place to spend time as the tide came in and out, the odd local taking a fishing boat out and later one other van arriving. I walked up to the village shop and then back via various lanes before another undisturbed evening. Moving on the following day after servicing the van domestics for the first time in a fortnight I rolled in to Labasheeda after deciding that a spot at the end of a dead end lane looking out to the ferry crossing was too near to a house. Two friendly fisheries inspectors (one from Huddersfield) were having lunch and talked about the declining salmon stocks as well as the year round resident dolphin pod numbering about a hundred or so - possibly a link!

 So Labasheeda provided another quiet night on the quay - I walked to the end of the village where an old RC church had been converted in to a community hall and stood alongside a lovely old National School building. At half six I went for a pint in the pub which threw me at first as I entered the front door to find myself in a small shop, however another door led to the bar at the back with the landlord flitting between the two via a curtain. Two pints of Guinness at 5 euro a pop went down well but I did wonder at the impact on the family finances of my fellow drinker who had downed three whilst his young daughter was more or less ignored.

A friendly couple also stayed the night - he was French and his English wife had dual nationality so they were untroubled by the Brexit 90 and had been in Andalucia since October. Fresh water was available so I filled up before heading over to Kilrush and then out along the Loop peninsula to Loop lighthouse which stood in magnificent isolation on the cliff tops.

After a walk along the cliffs and a view of the deep chasm over to Dermot and Grania's rock I joined the next lighthouse tour for a fascinating presentation covering the history of the light, life for the keepers and the background to recent automation. The 45 and Eire lettering in stones on the ground adjacent to the lighthouse were to warn WW2 Luftwaffe aircraft that they were passing over neutral Ireland on their way to bomb the NW of England - apparently word would be passed on to the air defences that danger was imminent and local weather forecasts were even used to alter the timings of the D Day landings as weather here tends to be a precursor of that further east a day or two later.

A superb spot above the Cliffs of Kilee made for a memorable night - the huge rock shelving was washed by powerful waves but was safely accesible at low tide and revealed some remarkable geology. I removed two party balloons stuck in crevices - people should think twice before releasing these as most will end up littering the countryside, as well as some fishermen's litter - mostly line which is easily disposed of with a match. 

The seaside of resort at Kilkee lacked much in the way of a supermarket so I nipped across to Kilrush for an Aldi and fuel noting that my mpg was down slightly - this being attributable to the use of the heater during last week's poor weather rather than an engine issue. At White Strand Beach near Doonbeg I squeezed in to the small carpark at the end of a dead end road, again grateful for having a relatively compact vehicle and was impressed by three local ladies who turned up for a swim in what looked to be a fairly chilly sea. A walk round the headland passed a set of steps that drop down to a ledge where people swim from and then further round I met two local characters who wanted my opinion on the health of their elderly dog for some reason. I also met a scuba diver who asked me to help him in to his bulky drysuit before after donning fins and mask he disappeared in to the choppy steel blue waters. Back at the park up a VW Grand California was parked up - it was a rental and the young couple seemed a bit overawed by the beast - I had looked round one last year in Hungary and thought them to be a complicated vehicle with a number of deficiencies. Another large van rolled in alongside later on - again a rental - and he distinguished himself by starting his engine at 5am the following morning. After forty minutes I opened my curtains and made my displeasure known at which point he switched off only to be off again at 7am - basically thoughtless....

Along at Doonbeg one of Mr Trump's golf emporiums occupies a section of the coastline but I was headed further north near Liscannor where a farm provides parking for a walk to the Cliffs of Moher and overnighting plus parking in a small quarry for 10 euros - a good deal. 

Thanks to my early awakening I was there at 9 so had plenty of time to walk up to Moher Tower on Hag's Head, the southern point of the magnificent Cliffs of Moher. On a hot day I walked north to the main access to the Cliffs and what a change since my last visit in the early 80's. Access to the huge ledge is no longer permitted, the gravel track down from the road is now tarmac and the rough ground once providing the carpark has become coach parking alongside a large visitor centre - fortunately mostly underground and in fairness very sensitively done. However there were already twenty or more coaches and across the road a few hundred cars so the place was, as expected, very busy. Steps and walkways sanitised the whole experience and reallly the only way to get a true sense of the way we had seen it all those years ago was to take the 4D Ledge experience which was a convincing CGI bird's eye view of the Cliffs complete with winds and spray. As I'd walked up I avoided the 12 euro entrance fee but a quick calculation of that times the visitor numbers produced a staggering number. I noticed that a bus ran up to Doolin so decided to catch that and then have a good ten mile walk back south to the van. A lass from Auckland was on her OE using public transport and hoped to carry on to France, Germany and Poland before returning home for Christmas - good company whilst we waited for the bus to arrive. In Doolin I enjoyed Eggs Benedict on a flatbread before walking through the village which I vaguely recognised from our visits to cave in the area. The entrance to Doolin cave was still hidden in a hawthorn thicket behind a picket fence and the through trip would presumably still emerge a couple of km away at Fisherstreet towards the harbour. I picked up the coast path enjoying clear views across to the Arran Islands on a hot and sunny afternoon, passed quickly through the even greater throng's milling around O'Briens Tower  and arrived back at the van by late afternoon to enjoy a couple of hours in the sun. 

A quiet night suited me very well and I left on the Saturday morning to head east inland and look at riding some of the towpaths on both the Grand and Royal Canals in the heart of Ireland. A short walk out to a triple walled hill fort was followed by the remarkable cluster of buildings at Kilmacduagh near Gort with a ruined cathedral, monastery and abbott's house alongside one of the remarkable defensive round towers. 

I checked out the aire at the marina in Portumna but it was far too busy and similarly at nearby Banagher the hot weather had brought out the crowds. However round at Meelick things were much quieter and I decided a night there alongside the Shannon would do very well. I had wrongly assumed that the Hymany Way was already a cycle path but in fact it is only a walking route and numerous signs in the area seemed to indicate local opposition to the upgrade for no very obvious reason. Having got the bike off and togged up this was a bit disappointing but as I then discovered my freewheel had packed up cycling was out of the question anyway. I Googled local bike shops but none were open on a Sunday but then found to my surprise that Decathlon had opened only their second branch in Ireland in Limerick less than an hour away. I gave them a call, explained that they were bikes bought in Spain only a few weeks previously and they said it would be no problem to drop by for a solution next day. Thus I walked down to the huge weir with its long walkway across to the locks and watched as a hire boat came through and local lads launched themselves in to the turbulence as the paddle gates were opened. Others were enjoying the fishing and I walked round the lanes to a large church noting more anti greenway signs along the way.

A few local youths sat in cars on Saturday night but didn't stay long and the following morning I picked up the entirely predictable Red Bull cans and McDonalds rubbish before heading out on quiet roads to Limerick. Steve the mechanic was busy but happy to try and have a look altough as he was already hard at work on other bikes and also dealing with sales I said I'd leave it with him for the day and having checked there were no time limits on the retail park's parking walked in to Limerick itself. Here I thoroughly enjoyed a few hours exploring the impressive King John's Castle on the banks of the Shannon and learned of its long history of sieges and batttles before a pint and a seafood pie in an adjacent pub.

Walking though the town on the newish riverside terracing and paths was lovely and I returned to the shop around 5 for an update. Steve said that the freewheel had failed and he would be fitting a new one but doubted it would be ready that day so to help out I said I would leave it with them as I could then drive over to Bunratty Castle and Folk Village where I coud park up overnight and visit the following day. En route I checked out an independent VW garage as the van oil and filter are due a change within the next 1000 miles and then pulled in to Bunratty after hours to park up in a quiet corner on a sunny evening.

As forecast heavy rain arrived in the early hours but as much of the Folk Museum involves visiting the collection of historic buildings that didn't really matter and it was soon easing off anyway. Much like St Fagans in Wales the buildings were very well presented with friendly and informative staff a huge improvement on AV screens and audio guides. 

I visited the range of farmhouses, fishermen's huts, watermills and a church as well as a recreated village street reminiscent of Beamish in the NE of England. Bunratty Castle was also very impressive and I managed to see most of the site before the crowds arrived. Thus on an afternoon of sunshine and showers I have brought things up to date here and with luck the bike will be ready when I go in to Limerick after 5 - the garage is closing down soon so is too busy finishing off other jobs so I'll wait until Galway early next week where there seems to be a number of options.

Long story short, more details in the next post : after a trying few days Decathlon Limerick have pulled a rabbit out of a hat and I have a new higher spec bike, discounted and the original purchase price refunded so huge thank you to Josias, Oscar, Steve and the other staff for a satisfactory resolution....

 A few more pics here   

Irish Times

 It was only half an hour  to the ferry terminal as I passed through Bilbao on a quiet Sunday morning and joined the queue of mainly trucks and campers. At Passport Control I made sure mine was stamped out, not done for the Irish and other Europeans leaving but essential for me to quantify the duration of my stay at a later date although my stay in Ireland itself doesn't count as it is a subject to a special arrangement with Britain : another ludicrous aspect of the Brexit fiasco.

 

 

Boarding was straight forward enough and once the pilot had jumped across we were away on a sunny morning with a clear sky and flat seas. It was my second journey on the gas fuelled Galicia and the ship was perhaps only half full so I found a tuck away in the sun on the top deck and watched as the coastline receded with the snow covered tops of the Picos visible away to the west.

I had decided not to bother with the Commodore Lounge pass as it is now £90 and had also opted for a reclining seat for the one night of this crossing. The former decision was a good one but on the second choice suffice to say it will be a decent cabin in future - the recliners don't very far, are very uncomfortable and the door to the area was noisy and banged with people coming and going all night. I ate well in the restaurant, watched the sun set and was up early next morning as we rounded Land's End giving a quick phone connection to a UK network before a final few hours put us in Rosslare after several sightings of porpoise in the Irish Sea.

 

Disembarking was delayed by two new Range Rovers requiring a jump start, presumably their alarms had been going off during the crossing so I admired a large Mercedes 4x4 van that looked very capable and had the Raptor paint I am considering using for my fibreglass roof.

It felt very odd driving on the left and I only drove for less than an hour to a park up above a beach at Ballyhealy, grateful that my smaller van could reverse in to a space between the dunes that got me out of the very strong winds. The Saltee Islands lay a couple of miles offshore and I walked along the beach to houses south of Kilmore that were threatened by coastal erosion so remedial engineering was underway.

Ballyhealy Castle stood behind a large cast iron gate and is on the Norman Way which passes through the area and before long I was back at the van surprised to see three local lads braving the crashing waves.

 

 

 

 

Anyway it was a peaceful night but on a grey wet morning I drove round to Kilmore Quay and parked at the Community Centre which has a decent cafe and motorhome service point where I topped up the fresh water. After a look round the small harbour I enjoyed a hot chocolate at the cafe before following the coast west and turning down on to the Hook Peninsula which culminated in the impressive Hook lighthouse, the oldest in the world dating back to mediaeval times. As the skies had cleared I booked on the tour which was well worth it - starting at the coastguard lookout before heading up the 188 steps to just below the light and out on to the terrace for wonderful views in all directions. The guide was very well informed and entertaining and clearly relished his job. Passing the imposing Loftus Hall, reputed to be haunted and now being redeveloped as a hotel I arrived at the imposing remains of Dunbrody Abbey before returning the few miles to Ballyhack for the short ferry ride over to Passage East and skirting round Waterford to arrive west of the town at a quiet carpark giving access to the Waterford GreenWay cycle path. I rode east in to town and then explored the centre before returning for a peaceful night.

 

Wednesday dawned bright, sunny and fresh so I was soon away to follow the GreenWay some 30 miles out to Dungarvan on the route of the old Mallow/Waterford Line. The Waterford and Suir Heritage train still runs on a regauged track alongside the path and there are plans for it to eventually reach back to Waterford and the GreenWay to be extended out to Mallow once more. Anyway for now it is a superb experience with a perfect surface passing through glorious countryside, opening out to extensive coastal views and depositing you bang in the middle of Dungarvan, an attractive coastal town. I checked out the aire for the following night and then decided to return along the Copper Coast route after having a good snack lunch at the Caboose cafe on the trail.

 

This added a few extra miles and some hills but was an excellent decision as the quiet road took me to beautiful bays such as  Stradbally and Kilmurrin Cove. The old copper mine at Tankardstown was reminiscent of the equally impressive mine buildings in North Cornwall and after reaching Annestown with its lovely beach I turned inland to Dunhill and returned to the GreenWay as it followed the Suir back to the parking where I enjoyed a remarkable sunset after sixty rewarding miles.

Thursday dawned as forecast - wet, cold and windy so not much fun for a French couple sleeping in their estate car, yet again I was thankful for the warmth and comfort of my set up. The aire at Dungarvan was near the town centre, had water and waste facilities and required 10 euros a night in the parking meter. I didn't need any of the services but felt it was a good thing to support the initiative so parked up on a foul day with the heater on. As things lifted after lunch I walked in to enjoy the small but interesting local museum and picked up some shopping before heading back. 

A grey, cold but mainly dry Friday (Morocco  is now a fading memory) saw me parking up at the large Tesco's on the edge of Cashel and walking in to visit the impressive Rock of Cashel standing proudly above the town. Again I opted for the guided tour and Patrick gave us an entertaining and irreverent commentary on the history of the overlapping castle and cathedral ruins. 

 

We also visited the beautifully preserved chapel with its Norman stonework before I returned to the van and drove over to the Mitchelstown Caves. Having expected an over developed touristy set up I almost missed the small car park opposite an old house with just a small sign. I knocked at the window and Abi appeared but said they weren't insured to only take one visitor so I said I would wait and have lunch in the van and see if anyone turned up. Fortunately a young family over from Canada eventually appeared so before long we were all walking up to the locked gate in a small limestone quarry where over a century ago the farmer had lost his crowbar down a gap, removed some rocks and began the exploration of this surprisingly extensive system. It was to their credit that the caverns, passages and formations had been only minimally disturbed to improve access and we all enjoyed it very much - potholers can reach the more distant passages and there is a second layer of caverns and passageways some 20 metres below the public area.

 

I hoofed it along to the Ballyhoura Mountain Bike Centre in the eponymous woods and mountains to find another low key place with parking at 5 euros and no signs banning overnight parking. There was a shower and toilet block but the bike rental was shut as it was now after 5 so I asked a couple of local riders about the various trail options and decided to do the longest blue route as apparently much of the 50k long red route is overgrown. Thus I enjoyed a couple of hours following the forest roads linked by well designed flowing single track with no one around and just a few wild goats for company. Back at the carpark by dusk there was no one else about so I showered early in the van and hit the sack after an energetic few days.

I woke early after a sound night's sleep so was soon away and before long arrived at Abbeyfeale which sits on the Limerick Greenway. The carpark behind the Railway Inn also houses a bike hire centre and the owner had some useful advice on the available options and also said people often overnighted which was good news. I set off west following the old Limerick to Kerry line out as far as Listowel before taking quiet back roads out to Ballybunion on the coast, a low key beach resort with an apparently world renowned golf course. On my return I stopped at the pitch 'n putt which had a cafe and was a very pleasant and welcoming place to take a breather and did an excellent cheese and ham toastie. I was back early enough to walk in to town and enjoy some of the traditional Irish music and dancing that has been a feature of this Bank Holiday weekend in Abbeyfeale for thirty years. Using a curtain sided trailer as a stage the band entertained a small crowd despite a few local bogans cruising by in their pimped rides with ludicrous exhaust systems.

 

Today has been warm and sunny after a misty start so I rode the rest of the LG east out to Newcastle West and Rathkeale where nowhere was open for even a coffee, fortunately I had apples and water and on the return the excellent Platform 22 cafe near the Ballymuragh viewpoint was open for business. Again the trail was well maintained with a smooth tarmac surface, good gates and signage and some stunning views over to the coast and way in the distance the mountains of the Killarney National Park.

A warm evening has given me time to do this catch up - tomorrow's plan is the Tarbert ferry across the Shannon in to County Clare and the first campsite of the trip for a service stop. I may even take an EHU, my second in four months away but as the panel has been doing its job all day today I doubt I'll really need it.

Anyway a few pics here and an update in a week or so............

Navarre

 A 'Digi' SIM from a small shop in town sorted me out for connectivity and still feeling surprisingly rough I drove over to Irurtzun on the Plazaola Via Verde that provides a quiet spot on the edge of town with good facilities at a very reasonable 5 euros for 48 hours. It was sunny, bright and cold but I still felt listless so rested up for the day. 

 A twenty mile ride up to Lekunberri and back was more than enough - a coffee at the old station was very welcome - on the way up I had seen perhaps fifty vultures tearing in to a dead horse with another fifty or so devouring carrion around the field and at least a hundred circling high above the valley - a remarkable sight. On my return two hours later there was no sign of bird or beast....

 

I drove on down to Pamplona ten miles away in search of gas, failing to find it in a huge Leroy Merlin DIY store but being absolutely amazed at the vast range and variety of stock - the western world has gone mad. A CEPSA petrol station in the city did have the bottles - I needed two and the serving lass was astounded when I told her the same cylinder is 80 euros in the UK and Ireland - only 18 here.

A lovely drive through the wooded mountains to the north brought me to Jauntsarats where the village provide a small aire with water and parking on a grassy spot behind a sports hall. Bizarrely I noticed two brightly coloured macaws tethered in a tree and later even more unexpectedly the two lads in a Dreamer van set off on mountain bikes with a bird each on their rucksacks.

 

It was a very quiet night and on the Sunday Gary, the friend from Portugal, called to say he would be in the area on Monday so I decided to head back to Irurtzun and bag two adjacent pitches. I walked up to the vulture observation post high up behind the aire and then dropped back to the VV which then returned to the aire passing through various tunnels and two huge rock portals. On one a group of climbers were abseiling down from a partially completed climb on a vast slab of almost sheer limestone.

 

Gary arrived late morning and we dropped in to the village for a coffee and a catch up. It has been a trying process selling up, transferring the business and storing possessions until he moves in to a new property in July or August so he was looking forward to a steady run through France and some long overdue catch up time with friends and family in the UK.

We said our goodbyes on the Tuesday morning and I headed a few miles and a thousand metres higher in to the Sierra de Aralar with snow starting to fall as I reached the remarkable old monastery of San Miguel in Excelsis with a couple of inches of settled snow and a howling wind for good measure. I had planned to stay up there but mindful of a steep descent on the north facing side and the possibility of black ice in the morning I decided to drop down the superb twisting road to Lekunberri, stay in the aire and walk up to the cafe for a decent coffee and cake before tucking away with the heater doing its job. 

 

Returning to Irurtzun via the monastery, which was looking almost Bavarian in the sunshine as the weather started to clear. I was now feeling back to normal after over a week so I took the path up to the Trinidad ermita above the town that had great views across to the still snow covered Aralar tops before dropping down to Latasa. A lovely collie had arrived at the top with a large group of Spanish walkers taking a different route but he wasn't with them and proceeded to follow me the seven miles down to first Latasa and then back to the aire. We parted company as he toddled off but I noticed later the local police had grabbed him and before long a van belonging to a sheep's cheese maker turned up : apparently he is well known for regularly wandering off, the dog that is!

 

Keen to use a final gas up I cooked and froze various meals next morning, had a hot shower and was soon removing the bikes to change a cylinder, deal with the loo, clean the bathroom thoroughly and put everything back ready for the couple of hours across to Bilbao. The CEPSA girl was laughing as I returned - threatening to charge me the full 80 euros - and there was some heavy rain as I passed Argomaniz where the Parador had been. A short delay after an accident outside Bilbao saw me arrive at Mungia mid afternoon - the fresh water supply is rather slow but I was soon parked up and walked in to town to check that the laundrette would be open next day.

 

After a quiet night I took the laundry down to get all practicalities seen to before tomorrow's mid morning sailing to Rosslare - I need to swop over maps and guides, change the SD card in the SatMap gizmo and start adjusting to driving on the left after four months.

It has been another amazing trip, the van behaving impeccably with approaching 100,000 miles under my ownership and 130k in total. Ireland will be a different and costlier trip as there are few free camping options but I am looking forward to filling the gaps from previous trips stretching back to caving in the Burren some forty years ago.

Anyway no additional pics this time as it's not long since the last post unless you are a glutton for punishment in which case this link will take you to an album of over 100 top shots from 2023 - you've been warned .... LINK

Valencia, The Ebre Delta, Els Ports and Northern Spain

The weather improved after a night in Yecla - in the evening we had walked down to town and watched the Easter floats being dismantled in the old Basilica and carefully stored for another year and a busy  heladeria provided a delicious ice cream in a cosy setting. The following morning we drove on to Biar after using a laundrette in Yecla where the small aire on two levels below the old town had free hook up for some pitches. We took one and then I used a splitter adapter to allow a Spanish arrival to connect up as well before we walked out to view a medieval aqueduct and climb back through the town and up to the castle for great views across the plains. The following day we took the Via Verde de Xixarra across olive and almond orchards, through Villena and on back to Yecla where a Burger King (!!!) provided sustenance for the return journey. I noticed whilst unloading the bikes that we had lost the 5l fuel can from the bike rack on a speed bump but there was no sign of it as we climbed up to the impressive castle and explored the various levels emerging finally at the top of the main tower with its four circular turrets. Some remarkable old graffitti on the walls carved by prisoners was well preserved despite the more recent additions of thoughtless visitors. We had passed a place that we'd stayed at previously where the owner lives in a bizarre sphere house and which seemed to now be targeting the eco conscious traveller. In the evening we walked in to the old town for a coffee near the college that was popular with students before returning for a quiet night.

 

Moving on we called at Xativa where two large castles are draped along a high ridge overlooking the town. Mindful of not allowing the sat nave to take us in to a narrow maze of streets we parked up on the edge of town and walked in passing the impressive basilica before taking the twisting road up to the main castle gate. Both castles were remarkable in size, location and preservation and we spent a couple of hours exploring, grateful for the cooler breeze on a hot day. The terrace was a lovely place for coffee before we walked back down to the town. In a side street we spotted a small cafe and decided to stop for a late lunch - the owner and her daughter produced two excellent meals and were very friendly.

After a couple of hours drive we pulled in on the large aire opposite Morella with its view across to the town and its predominant castle. The new road has ironed out the many tight bends that made my approach two years ago quite exciting - I remember watching the remarkable civil engineering going in to constructing new tunnels and flyovers. There were a fair few vans there but it had plenty of space and the following day we walked down past the aqueduct and bought a ticket for admission to the town walls and main gate, castle, basilica and dinosaur museum. Inside the basilica its most remarkable feature was a stunning carved staircase leading to the choir stalls. After this it was another steep climb up to the castle with the bullring just inside its lower walls and then passing through various gates and other defensive structures to reach the main keep which offered superb views across a landscape of olives, vines, citrus trees and some arable crops. Back at the aire we chatted to an inspirational Swiss couple - the wife had a wasting condition that required her to use a motorised off road wheelchair but they seemed very organised and determined to make the most of life.

 

Dropping back to the coast the following day we arrived on the aire at St Jaume D'Enveja which is ideally located for exploring the Ebre Delta by bike and was thus pretty full. We rode across the new bridge to Deltebre where preparations were under way for a weekend triathlon and thought that whilst the paid aire was quieter for now it would soon fill up with competitors and supporters. The riverside path took us out to a small marina and then a track through the estuarine marshes brought us to Riumar, a low key beach resort. At the far end a few vans were staying at the end of the track - the holiday accommodation alongside was closed down so it would have been a nice pace to stay and one to remember for next time. The following day saw us covering 40 odd miles as we took paths, tracks and lanes through the flat fields that were being ploughed and tilled ready for the flooding and rice planting due in May. Flamingoes and a huge range of other waders, herons and waterfowl occupied the wetlands and out at the Illa de Buda after dropping down to the beach we enjoyed good views over the extensive habitat from an observation tower. Returning to the van we dropped in to the EuroSpar for bread and fruit and enjoyed a well earned shower and rest that evening. The following day we finished off the last of the wetlands by cycling west towards Amposta and then covering the area to the south finally circling back to the van and heading away in to the mountains.

 

Horta de St Joan provided a lovely aire on the edge of town with good views across to the limestone towers of Els Ports National Park. The old town was beautiful with arches, covered walkways, numerous alleyways and a striking number of elegant buildings. Picasso had apparently lived here for a year during which he developed his artistic style and there is a museum and arts centre dedicated to his life and work. We enjoyed drinks in a cosy vaulted bar before heading back to the van - with Easter holidays now ending there were fewer Spanish vans around.

A ride down to Xerta on the Via Verde de la Terra Alta passed through Bot where an old railway carriage provided refreshments and shelter from the gusty winds before the route became the VV del Baix Ebre - all are part of the Santander - Mediterrana railway that was intended to transfer freight across Spain and avoid the long journey for ships around the Iberian Peninsula. Unfortunately it was never completed as new roads and the concept of the container and artic proved faster and more economic than a single track line threading through the mountains. However the legacy is a superb cycle route that passes through dozens of tunnels, over several viaducts and across empty landscapes with several old stations providing refreshment opportunities. We stopped at the old station of Benifallet for an excellent lunch with a lively cycling group occupying an adjacent table. Google Translate via the camera produced some interesting possibilities for lunch, including cream of underwear but as always whatever we received was delicious. We dined well and drank plenty of water before heading steadily uphill with a headwind making for quite a strenuous ride. The same cosy bar in Horta provided a much needed beer after a hugely enjoyable day - the new bikes are doing really well, replacing them immediately was a good decision and they are both proving to be comfortable and well assembled.

 

An easier day with a ride up to Cretas was intended to give Mandy's troublesome leg a bit of a rest although she insists riding does it no harm and we arrrived at the lovely old village I have stayed in a few times. We found the traditional bakery that has been run by the same family for 150 years and succumbed to good bread and a box of pastries before calling at the small butchers for pork fillets and sausages. An easy run back to an almost empty aire gave us an afternoon in the sun before we descended on the Bar de Pesetas for a final chat with the enthusiastic young lady who hopes to make a success of the establishment. On our way back we had taken a short diversion to see Lo Parot thought to be the oldest olive tree in Spain and planted by the Moors a thousand years or more ago - there was something very moving about the sturdy trunk and desnse canopy of foliage.

After dealing with the van's domestics we parked at the beautiful but disused convent of Sant Salvador D'Horta from where an hour or so's steep climb brings you out to a hilltop chapel visible for miles around and commanding stunning views. It was a very windy day day but fortunately most of the path was on the sunny sheltered side and after a final scramble we reached the ruins with a cross and flag located along another ridge. I decided despite the winds gusting to 50 mph to make my way across for that grammable selfie.....

 

We only moved on to Cretas as it's a lovely aire and walked in to the village for a more detailed exploration of its old streets and alleyways - it is another of Spain's many villages that have great charm and history but suffer from a lack of opportunity for young people to stay on.

Further up the Via Verde now known as the VV Del Val De Zafan we pulled in to the old station at Valjunquera and decided the spot alongside the old station buildings in the middle of nowhere would do us very well for a couple of nights. The buildings were semi derelict but still showed the care and skill that had gone in to the arches, brickwork and tiling. We rode up to Alcarniz via a long unlit tunnel - I had remembered to bring my powerful light which again illuminated the remarkable skills of the stonemasons with the graceful entrance portals and curved tunnel linings. We stopped for coffee in the main square and then rode up to the castle which is now a Parador whose terrace has great views over the town before returning to the station where the solar panel had been hard at work and the fridge had kept much needed beers cold. A shortish run back to Cretas for more bread was followed by a day in the hot sunshine and the evening meal outside under a new moon. A few cyclists passed and an old local guy parked up to go on a walk, as he had done the previous evening but otherwise we had the remarkable spot to ourselves.

 

With Mandy's return to the UK only a week away we moved on a bit passing the Greenwich Meridian at one point and taking in one section of VV north at Hijar where an aquaduct crossed the trail high on another beautiful bridge. In a cutting huge amounts of tumbleweed had gathered in piles - it was fascinating to release one or two and see how easily they rolled  away in the breeze.

North of Soria at Garray we stopped at another aire and walked in to the village on a slightly chilly evening - at 3000' northern Spain can be fresh but I fully intend to return to this area in the winter or spring as there is so much to see and numerous mountain bike trails are signposted through the countryside on the Caminos Naturales. Nearby the Celtiberian archaeological site of Numantia provided a few fascinating hours as we walked amongst the ruins of a town taken over by the Romans with evidence of cisterns, the outline of streets and houses from the two different cultures and two reconstructed houses showing how the two groups lived. The audio guide in English was excellent and available via a Q code on your phone - all clever stuff.

 

West of Soria we parked in the pretty village of Ocenilla to ride as far as Abejar with drinks at each end and then moved on to another aire at Hontaria del Pinar which as the name suggests is in the middle of a large pine forested area where timber production is the major local enterprise. Thanks to this the railway had been active for many years but now lies dormant - I had ridden around here just over two years ago in very cold but dry conditions so it was good to be back with much higher temperatures. We walked up to the small chapel on a hill overlooking the village and watched a colourful sunset before turning in with perhaps 3 or 4 other vans in situ.

The superb Gorge of the Rio Lobos made for a memorable ride the following day with a good single track following the valley for about 20km, crossing it occasionally with fords or stepping stones, and in a couple of places walkways carried us round the steep cliffs that rose to the sky. One particularly inaccessible section was home to nesting vultures and golden eagles soared high above adding to the remarkable scene. The rockfaces were very colourful and sported yellow flowering shrubs and stubby pines whilst below the clear waters hosted numerous frogs whose croaking filled the air. Ninety percent of the route was rideable and we saw very few people as the further reaches take some getting to but as we reached the beautiful ermita at Templaria de St Bartolome opposite the enormous cueva grande there were a few more visitors but far less than I had expected at such a stunning place. Heading out to the road the cafe was closed but we were able to fill our bottles at a spring before embarking on the long but steady climb out of the gorge via several hairpins to reach the viewing platform for the gorge. From here it was largely downhill to San Leonardo de Yague where after drinks and tapas we picked up the VV back to Hontaria after one of the best rides of the trip.

 

Burgos next day did for a laundry stop before we turned up at Argomaniz for a special night in the village's Parador. A converted palace once used by Napoleon, the original building plus two newer extensions was very well presented and our room was large and stylish. We'd wondered why the car park was so full and found out that a cosmetics sales day was underway but as the event closed the place became more peaceful and we enjoyed drinks in the cafe before walking round the village. Dinner on the top floor of the old section under the magnificent timber roof structure was excellent with friendly staff and a lovely vibe - maybe partly due to the decent Rioja consumed.

Unfortunately overnight we were both rather ill and having had very different meals decided the blame lay with a shared Russian salad from a delicatessen in Burgos. It left us both completely floored so we drove the hour to Mungia on a rainy day and settled down in the aire with the heater on. A walk later in to the town helped a bit but we were in bed by 6 having avoided all food and felt far better for lying in warm comfy surroundings with the last of the TV downloads to watch.

 

This morning we both felt much better but avoided eating and I am now finishing this blog as Mandy's flight to Manchester arrives on schedule. It has been another memorable 8 weeks together, with its dramas as reported, but as always I feel very privileged to be living this itinerant life with all its rewards and challenges.

The aire at Mungia will do for tonight as well as I need to walk in and buy a SIM card to evade the post Brexit roaming on my phone for the last ten days in Spain and the planned two months in Ireland. Tonight I will plan further rides in this area and find a suitable place to RV with Gary from Portugal who has finally handed over the campsite to the new owners and is heading to the UK for a proper catch up with friends and family. My ferry is in ten days time so an update will be squeezed in before then.

EXTRA PICS HERE