Hello to All,

I started my little bicycle tour of Ireland and Great Britain back on July 12th. Today, July 31st, finds me on a convenient rest day in Dingle, County Kerry, Ireland. Convenient, because it is raining all day, instead of just part of the day, which is the norm. Yes, it is a bit soggy here, but I knew this ahead of time. I figured I better bicycle the most challenging countries before I get much older, saving some of the easier ones for later.

The hills here are easy, the highest point being just over 3,000 feet. The rain and wind are the much greater challenge. My rain gear lasts maybe 3 hours in the worst rain before I start to wander if this was such a good idea. Yes it is! The countryside is gorgeously green, the natives are very friendly, and the place is dripping with history. The food is quite good, if you disregard the "full Irish breakfast" which is like our Denny's Grand Slam on steroids.

I have been staying in hostels mostly and taking the chance of camping several times. The gamble is a steady rain when ready to break camp. Two nights ago, I was on a flyer toward Dingle and was running out of daylight when I stumbled across Foley's Pub in Inch. The owner allowed me to camp in his cow pasture across the street and I had a lovely meal in the pub before heading off to my little tent. I was in an open field and it rained hard the entire night. In the morning, the sun came out (a rare thing) and a nice breeze came up to dry my tent. It must be the luck of the Irish.

I started in Dublin and now, just short of 3 weeks later, I have pedaled over 500 miles. This is really slow, but I use the weather and winds as my excuse. Also, I am exploring every castle that I get near, not to mention ancient stone rings, museums, and other structures of note, like old jails, of which there are many. The convoluted and complicated history of Ireland is really amazing for such a small island. It seems everyone, mostly the English, wanted a piece of it. And they had their civil war as well.

Well, I can tell you all already, there will not be as much reporting as in the past. There is just too much to see and daily challenges to spend much time on the computer. Pictures, of course, will follow at the end of the trip. Drop me a note and I will try to reply.

Before I forget, there is one more item of information that I should mention. My bicycle with gear weighs in at just over 90 pounds, depending on any given day, how much food I have on board. This includes my library of touring books, some specific to bicycle touring and two road atlases for all of Ireland, Scotland, England, and Wales. Okay, so I'm a bibliophile on wheels! No regrets so far.

Burt
 

Are you riding in your sandals, Burt?

I think he needs a kindle or ipod to put all his books in.. would probably save about 40 pounds!

Hellodere,

I have now been in Ireland for just over a month and have racked up over 1100 miles. Starting in Dublin and doing a more or less clockwise loop with a few zig zags along the way, I am now hunkered down in Derry (or Londonderry if you are a Brit) in Northern Ireland, watching the steady rain from the hostel's window. Of course I wouldn't embellish, but it rains almost every day. Yesterday was a happy exception, as I made the ride from Donegal to Derry without having to don my rain gear once.

Starting at the Dublin airport, I painstakingly assembled my bicycle and made my way to a very central hostel 8 miles away in the rain. Dublin is full of life and has a lot to do and see. I did my best in 2 full days, but will be back at the end of my trip to see the rest before flying back home. It was especially nice getting a tour of several pubs listening to traditional Irish music performed by a very talented trio.

Starting south into Wicklow and then into the Wicklow Mountains, I visited Glendalough, a site settled by monks in the sixth century. The big hitter here was a 100 foot tall round tower. It turns out, these types of towers are scattered about Ireland and must have had the same architect because they are all very similar.

From here I continued into Kilkenny, then Cashel, and to my favorite castle to date in Cahir. Then zigging back through Clonmel, it was a dreary drizzly day, and no hostels to be had. I queried a man walking in the mists if he had a lawn that I might pitch my tent upon. He was open to the idea, and I followed him home. On arrival, he and his wife had a discussion as to which of their vacant bedrooms I might spend the night. Very friendly folk these Irish.

I swung through Carrick-on-Suir and then south where I passed Sean Kelly's house. He was off commentating on Le Tour, so we couldn't have a tete-a-tete. For those who don't know, he was one of, if not the greatest, Irish bicyle racers.

Now in County Cork, I spent a night in the pretty town of Kinsale, and then Skibereen and one of the nicest places, Glengariff.

Over a pretty big hill and through Caha Pass put me in Kenmare in County Kerry. The next climb was through Moll's Gap, not as tough, and on into Killarney National Park. I visited and got a tour of Muckross House before blowing through Killarney to Inch on the Dingle Peninsula. I related my stay here in Issue #1.

The Dingle Peninsula was very good for scenery and history especially as it relates to the Blasket Islanders. I was rained out for a day in Dingle, but it was worth the wait.   

Heading north now, I made my way through Listowel, Kilrush, and Doolin. The Cliffs of Moher are very dramatic as they provide a sheer drop to the ocean of 600 feet. I did get some pictures even though it rained consistently during my visit.

On my way through The Burren, a unique rocky area of the country that has Stone and Iron Age remains, I met a 19 year old kid from Belgium on his first bicycle tour. We biked together for the next 6 days. Nicolas was a great guy, spoke 3 languages fluently, caught fish in the ocean, and liked to free camp (in which I participated).

I took a ferry to one of the Aran Islands called Inishmore for one night. The highlite was Dun Aengus, a prehistoric ring fort, set on the edge of some sea cliffs that were really spectacular. Slept on a football pitch.

Now on the far west coast through Clifden, Westport and Ballina, this area had a lot of peat bogs which were interesting to see. Folks cut slices of it from their land and burn it for home heating. In fact, I went through the Ceide Fields, a 5000 year old farming community buried under the bog.

Onward through Sligo, Ballyshannon and into Donegal. I bicycled with a couple of Spanish guys, Manuel and Rafa, who were on a 2 week trip on rented bikes. One of my big "discoveries" has been the availablity of crepes sold in hermetically sealed plastic wrap at Tesco (a food store that sounds like they sell petroleum products). These things are killer heated in the microwave. Just add some marmelade.

My other revelation is finding some SUSTRAN maps for Donegal and Northern Ireland that are very detailed for bicycle touring the back roads. Some of these roads are single lane and just keep you off the busier roads completely. One section had me pedaling on a beach at low tide.

There you have it. I skipped around a lot, but you are relatively up to date.

Burt

Yes, I am riding in my sandals. Currently in Stirling and then Edinburgh, Scotland. I am long past starting to miss dry weather.

Burt

  The last you heard from me I was in Derry, Northern Ireland. That was 2 weeks ago, but it seems like months to me. It's not that time is moving slowly, but I'm on sensory overload and just a tad exhausted. I'm just over half way into my 3 month journey and have covered 1,850 miles of Ireland and Scotland roads.

Weather forecasters got it wrong the day I left Derry because it turned out to be a great day. I meandered up to the northern coast and visited Dunluce Castle. This is a very atmospheric ruin set on the edge of some very steep cliffs. Onto the Giant's Causeway, a very interesting geologic area with some lava that has formed into polygonal shapes along another spectacular coast. I bumped into my Spanish friends who had abandoned their bike ride and took a train and bus out to the site.

This evening I arrived in Ballycastle and used a trick I remembered from New Zealand. I just happened to notice an ambulance parked next to a medical facility. In a small town, these guys aren't super busy and usually welcome a stranger asking questions. And so I camped on their property amongst the trees and in the morning they let me use their kitchen to eat my breakfast that I was carrying with me. They were really nice.

The next day, my last in Northern Ireland, I biked the steepest grades yet, maybe 12-18%, in an area called Torr Head. This was very gorgeous pasture land all tilted on the edge of some serious cliffs. I got to Larne and caught a late ferry to Cairnryan, Scotland. No small boat, but a giant, very civilized, roll-on, roll-off ferry. My biggest surprise to date was how pretty the north coast of Northern Ireland turned out to be. I guess I hadn't read much about it before leaving. For a very big ferry, the port at Cairnryan had zippo. I slept in a pitch black car park by the ocean that had some picnic tables. For those of you keeping score I just briefly slipped into my "creature of the night" mode.

>From here I headed north into South Ayrshire, planning to take a ferry from Androssan over to Aran Island. I got to the Androssan ferry terminal and was talking to the folks in there as the rain came pouring down outside. On leaving the terminal, a train was sitting there on an apparent end of line, waiting to leave. This was too tempting considering the awful rain, so I jumped on board and got a ride to Glasgow. Funny how plans can change quickly. Glasgow seemed like a nice city, but the weather had cleared a bit, so I hit the road. I was on my way to Loch Lomond.

I got to Balloch late, a cute town with a little bit of home there in the form of a McDonalds. Had a bite there and came outside to my first flat, a front one. By the time I got it fixed, it was really late and dark, so I tried the old car park thing. After finding a nice one and starting to set up camp, a couple of dogs discovered me followed by their owner. This fellow asked if I was a tourist, I guess the alternative being a homeless bum. He suggested his garden would be a safer bet, so I agreed. It turned out he had a boat in his driveway, which was a lovely dry spot for the evening. In the morning he offered up some breakfast and coffee. So far, I am impressed with Scotland.

The "bonnie, bonnie" shores of Loch Lomand were not so bonnie in the rain. I continued on through Inveraray, Taynuit, and across the Connel bridge and up along Loch Linnhe to Onich. Here I bumped into 5 Brits celebrating a batchelor party and planning on climbing Ben Nevis, the highest peak in the UK the next morning. Those guys drank beer, wine, whiskey, and followed it up with some liqueurs. I, of course, participated but at a much reduced level. They were off at 6:00 AM. I put in a 52 mile day to Mallaig, the jumping off point to the Isle of Skye. 

I'll pick up here next time. I am currently working my way south toward Edinburgh.

Burt

It's been quite a while since my last update. I haven't had extended time on a computer. That's my excuse anyway. You last heard that I was in Mallaig on the western side of Scotland in the Highlands. This was on August 22nd. I will continue in first person, as if I wasn't trying to recollect facts from my notes.

Mallaig is a really cute little fisherman's village, ferry terminal, and train terminal for an old touristic steam train. I found an interesting place to stay in the Fisherman's Mission. This isn't for wayward seamen, but temporary lodging for the local fishermen who might be in port on any given day. They were not really busy. The next day I made a huge mistake. I took a rest day and the weather was crystal clear. I learned in Scotland that these days should be travel days because in retrospect, they were few and far between. In fact, in order to save typing and avoid being too repetitive I will be using the term "IRT" for the phrase "it rained today".

The next day, I took the half hour ferry to Sleat, the southern most part of the Isle of Skye and headed north on the one lane track which widened out toward Broadford and made it to Sligachan. IRT, and I'm talking major downpour. Here I stayed in a bunkhouse across the street and up a hill from a very nice hotel. These bunkhouses are very similar to hostels except usually detached from the booking facility.

The next morning was clear and having learned my lesson about the Scottish weather, I leaned into my bicycle to cover my longest mileage yet in a day (72 miles) to view the entire loop road around the Isle of Skye. This is very beautiful rugged country. I had a kick-ass tailwind for about 30 miles and of course a nasty headwind coming back in the opposite direction. The top of Skye turned out to be the farthest north that I would venture into Scotland. The heather covered hills here and in other parts of the Highlands remind me a bit of the Arctic tundra.

In Portree, a wonderfully located and population center of Skye, is where I stayed that evening. By the way, except for my first night in Scotland, every night was spent indoors in a hostel or bunkhouse. I heard this was the 4th rainiest summer in Scottish history.

Leaving Portree in the morning was dry, but with violent gusting winds and a busy narrow road, I deemed it unsafe and foolhardy to continue. Just out of town, there was a performing arts center, where I hunkered down waiting for the owner of the lone pick-up truck to make an appearance. He was agreeable to hauling myself and touring bicycle off the Isle to Kyle of Lochalsh about 32 miles distant.

The next day was grim. The fact that IRT didn't diminish the number of tour buses at Eilean Donan Castle. The weather sort of added to the gloomy atmosphere of this old structure and I got the full tour. Continuing on along Loch Carron which was very lovely, even through the raindrops, to Achnasheen and the 105 year old Legowan Lodge Hotel with nearby bunkhouse. Then there were midges. I thought these little buggers were like our no-see-ums, but noooo. You can see midges. They swarm and bite. You have to keep moving or else they will have their way with you. I felt bad for some of the backpackers who were up here and had to endure.

I arrived in Inverness and the rain really started coming down after I was settled into the Bazpackers Hostel. My explorations were kept to a minimum. The next day seemed promising weather-wise as I headed down the single track woodsy road on the south side of Loch Ness. Along the way I bumped into Will, a fellow tourist making the Land's End to John o'Groats journey. What is interesting, is that we had met 10 days ago in Ayr on the west coast where we continued on in different directions. Now, he was heading north and myself south. This was quite a coincidence and more about Will later. I continued through Fort Augustus along the Caledonian Canal with it's multitude of locks to Invergarry to a very nice hostel, Great Glen Hostel.

I turned south here, IRT, but I had a decent tailwind, over Spean Bridge and on to Laggan, a mountain biking mecca of sorts. Up and over the Pass of Drumochter, a pass of 1300 feet or so, and arrived in Pitlochry, a charming little place with a nice hostel up a hill overlooking town. I saw a play here at the performing arts center, "Whiskey Galore", and I give it two thumbs up. I finally came down with a cold after only 2 weeks of bicycling with wet feet. Took a rest day here.

Headed west through Aberfeldy and along the south side of Loch Tay, staying over in Killin. I was now following Sustrans Route 7, which was very hilly with some nasty gravel which was tearing up my front tire, but it was scenic. Made it to Stirling and toured the very large touristy castle. Oh, IRT.

Biked over the Firth of Forth on the Forth Bridge to get me to Edinburgh. Very nice city to explore and took an extra day to do that. There is a street there known as The Royal Mile which has restaurants and retail stores from one end to the other. At the bottom of this road is the Palace of Holyroodhouse, one of the Queen's hangouts.

Now I am on Sustrans Route 1 and going over the Moorfoot Hills, through Innerleithen on my way to Melrose. IRT. Even so, the Tweed Valley was very pretty. Next came Wooler and I am finally in England and more importantly, it stopped raining. I started down a rough patch of the Pennines cycle route, but tired of it and the rough rocks on the trail and headed for the coast to Ainwick and Ainmouth. Now I was on the east coast and heading south into gale force headwinds. Got myself through that rough patch and through Newcastle.

My plan now was to head across Hadrian's Wall. Tim works a bike shop in Newcastle and when he saw me pedaling about in Wylam near his home, he and his wife Miki graciously invited me in for the night. You don't see much of the wall until you get further west along where it runs. It seems that by the 1700's local folks dismantled it for the building material for homes and other walls. The very nice ruin of a Roman fort and ongoing archaeological dig exists at Vindolanda where I spent some time. There are some good sections of the wall too at Steel Rigg. Got to Haltwhistle and camped on the cricket field.

The next day I continued to Alston and over a 1900 foot pass at Hartside. On this stretch of road I had a small dog without a tag follow me uphill for about 5 miles onto a very busy road. Luckily, some good samaritan in a car stopped and scooped up the dog in his car to be handed over to the authorities back down the highway. After a shower at a local swimming pool I found a good campsite on a football pitch in Penrith.

Now I was heading for the Lake District and I can say with authority that it is one of the most beautiful parts of England. Keswick was overrun with tourists but I found solace and a great campsite at the back of Derwentwater Lake in the heart of the National Park. Cummbria is a special area with gorgeous scenery and towns like Ambleside, Windermere, and Grasmere.

Kendal was a rest day, did some bike stuff (new tire, brake blocks, chain) and saw a couple of movies. I recommend District 9, a very different sci-fi movie by Peter Jackson. Broken Embraces is good as well with Penelope Cruz.

Now I was getting into Yorkshire Dales National Park and hitting the first of many 15 to 20% grades. Ouch! I actually had to walk a few of these monsters. Every town was on a river in a valley and you knew a climb was coming on the way out. Most towns were pretty and or interesting, others were not. Burnley was kind of ugly, but I met wonderful older gentlemen named Ted who invited me to sleep in his shed attached to his garage and watched with him on his telly Liverpool beat some Hungarian team in a UEFA cup match.

There are hundreds of miles of canals that have these long boats on them where people cruise and some live. There are many locks linking up sections of differing elevations. I put in a lot of miles along these canals where, in the old days, there were tow paths for horses.

I thought the hills were steep in the Dales, but they were steeper yet and longer in Peak District National Park. One day I made a wrong turn and was so disgusted and tired after losing a 1000 feet I just set up camp for the day after 22 miles.

I have also been riding on a lot of old railbed trails. They get old, sometimes rocky, sometimes dusty, not too scenic, but flat. The best routes are on little used country roads and I've had my share of those too.

Okay, I'm tired of writing now. I am sure you are tired of reading. To be continued.....










     

Continuing southward through central England was a mixed bag of goodies. The weather had now improved with no rain, sometimes chilly during the day and downright nippy at night. The hills toward the end of the Pennines were very steep and long and the towns ran the gamut from cute and cuddly to horrible and Orwellian and I didn't even get to Liverpool, Birmingham, Manchester or London. The people were all wonderful with few exceptions. I camped on many front and rear yards with permission and the odd city park and other fields that provided a flat piece of grass. There were also hostels, but fewer and farther between than those found in Scotland. It is September and the leaves are starting to show some color.

I blew into Oxford after a very nice day of back roads and no mountains to go over. The university here is scattered all over town and I could have stayed longer to really explore this neat old town. I think I was getting antsy because it was September 23rd and my remaining time was getting shorter. The next day I got to the house of that guy I had met twice up in Scotland, Will. He had completed the Land's End to John O'Groats ride and took a train home. I stayed with him a couple of nights and he joined me for a partial day ride as I headed east. We passed by Silchester, the site of an ancient Roman amphitheater and partial city walls. Not much intact, but a great bucolic location.

That day I made it to Cranleigh on some nice quiet back roads, but not before a short visit to the Farnham Castle. As I was prone to do, in Cranleigh, I asked some locals about where they thought I might be able to camp in town. Not one, but two people recommended I talk to Reverend Nigel, the rev at the giant old church, where he lived next door on a fabulous estate. Reverend Nigel was in and I did camp under a lovely tree on his property. It turned out he had bicycle toured all over Ireland a few years back.

Now I was off to East Grinstead to visit Rachel who I had met several years ago when she was bicycle touring in California. Had a great visit with her and a beautiful day ride through the North and South Downs the next day. Her friend Rod hooked me up with his friend in Brighton on the coast the next night. It was a difficult ride that day, but Shels was a grand hostess and I couldn't have had a nicer stay. The next day found me in Birdham, near Chichester staying with the very busy Anne, a friend of my buddy Maggie at home. This was getting to be a very sociable ride.

The next day wasn't my finest hour as I lost concentration for a second and crashed into a curb and went down like a bucket of bolts. As I uncrumpled myself from the sidewalk, first checking my bike for damage, I realized I was still alive, but now with a distinct pain in my ribs where I had crunched onto my brake blocks on the way over the handlebars. With two weeks left in my trip, I made the decision to soldier on. "I had to see Wales", I whimpered to myself, as I applied neosporin to a few bloody spots. It only hurt when I took a breath.

That evening I made it to Winchester, gawking at the cathedral and humming the tune, but not remembering the lyrics. The next day found me on the Salisbury Plain in front of a scene few people on earth are not familiar with; Stonehenge. You can no longer prance around and touch the stones, but I got some photos through a chain link fence that will suffice.

Since my little accident, one cleat broke and I have been slipping off my right pedal constantly. I found a replacement in the cute town of Marlborough where I camped in an open field behind a residential area.

I went through Avebury which was built in the middle of a giant stone ring. These rings are maybe 5000 years old and are impressive to be near. These do not have the horizontal cap rocks that are in Stonehenge, but are more extensive. Onward to the very historic and pleasant town of Bath for a couple nights, through Bristol, over the Severn Bridge and finally into Wales.

I had a direct path north plotted out for Wales and it got hilly. A big chunk of Wales is taken up with Snowdonia National Park and Brecons National Park. The back roads and even the main roads were not busy now in October, the leaves were turning, and it was getting cold out. It rained one day which brought the temperature way up. The scenery was terrific. I went over Gospel Pass at 540 meters to a great downhill to Glasbury where I stayed at the friendly Black Mountain Lodge.

This is the land of double L's and words with 8 consonants in a row. I think you have to be Welsh to pronounce them. Llanidloes is a town and word in point that had the best lodging on the whole trip. It was a brand new spacious bunk house on a hill with a view, TV, big kitchen, laundry, and I was the only one there. Lonely, but palatial.

I took a wrong turn in Dolgellau and ended up on the coast of Wales in Barmouth. I realized after a quick look at the map that my mountain climbing for the trip was now over. I say Amen! to that. I had a nice ride through Harlech, a World Heritage Site for it's big old castle. Took pictures only. The next stop was Caernarfon, well known for another in the series of fabulous Welsh castles. This one I made a meal of, and clambered up and down almost every spiral stone staircase in this magnificent structure. Many pictures were taken.

Got to Holyhead and didn't have to wait very long for the stormy ferry ride across to Dublin. This was the biggest and best ferry I had ever been aboard. There were TV rooms, restaurants, a movie theater, and lounges. The trip was only three hours. I am staying with Gene, a very nice guy I had met 3 months ago in Westport, Ireland where he was vacationing with his daughter, Karen. I am in a suburb of Dublin called Lucan relaxing and packing my bike and gear for my flight home. Epilogue will follow.