Sip
Stay baaaa-ck, human!
The nice twisty road that got us to Slieve League, which we have to take to get back out again
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Quit our jobs, sold our home and everything in it, gone riding...
- Thread starter Lightcycle
- Start date
Sip
Stay baaaa-ck, human!
The nice twisty road that got us to Slieve League, which we have to take to get back out again
Punching in our next stop in the GPS
The sun is starting to make a late afternoon appearance, and it's just another couple of hours south to our final destination of the day.
Someone told us about this hippy town called Sligo, famous for being the place where the poet W.B. Yeats spent his childhood summers. This town and the surround areas figure prominently in his poems and prose.
Checking into the campsite on Strandhill, about 15 minutes outside of Sligo
The grounds of our campsite. No Hurling!
Covering up the bikes for the day. Very windy! At least our stuff will dry quickly. If it doesn't get blown away!
Neda makes us dinner! All those ingredients in front of her, she picked them off a bush nearby... Survivorman.
Our campsite is right on the coast, with an amazing view of Ben Bulbin mountain in the backdrop. Is it actually spelled Ben Bulbin in Gaelic? Nope. Binn Ghulbain. Whut? "B" is a "B", but so is "Gh"?!?
I feel like someone is playing a trick on us. Been Ghullible? Yes.
About 100 metres away, the waves of the Atlantic Ocean crash on Strandhill beach. Beautiful!
That night, the temperatures dip down to single digits. We shiver in our sleeping bags with the sound of the tent flapping all around us in the strong wind. It feels like the tent is going to rip itself off the stakes and fly away to Oz. We've been getting so many hints that it's almost time to wrap up riding in the British Isles. At least it's not raining.
But the next morning it's much calmer, and we wake up to more of the glorious sunshine that the previous day left us. So after a lazy morning in the sheltered (and heated!) common area, catching up on some Internet and TV shows...
...we head out to Sligo for a drink and a bite to eat.
Downtown Sligo
Street musicians busking on the streets of Sligo
...we head out to Sligo for a drink and a bite to eat.
Downtown Sligo
Street musicians busking on the streets of Sligo
We find a pub and order... Guinness! We love Guinness!!!
In the booth next to us, some musicians are practicing some jigs
Pubs. Guinness. Jigs.
You can't get any more Irish than this!
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Good catch!
Riceburner
Well-known member
It's not like it's printed on the glasses or anything....
kiwi
Well-known member
I was in Ireland this time, last year. We stayed down the east coast in a small town called Dungarvin. Luckily it was the week before the All Blacks lost to Ireland in Rugby . Would have got a right ribbing from the locals after that
Love Ireland - Reminds me of NZ - we'll probably go back there and tour the northern half.
Love Ireland - Reminds me of NZ - we'll probably go back there and tour the northern half.
Face
Well-known member
Goddamit!
Can't spell after too many Guinnessessessess. ;-)
Updated from http://www.RideDOT.com/rtw/364.html
The record for bicycling from the very north of Ireland to the very south is 19 hours and 3 minutes. We're about half-way distance on the Wild Atlantic Way and it's already been 3 days! We move slowly.
We leave Sligo in the morning under cover of dark clouds. Although it's not raining, we don our sausage suits anyway to ward off the chilly morning temperatures.
Continuing our journey south on the Wild Atlantic Way
I'm really enjoying Ireland's west coast.
So are these guys
The Internet tells me this is the annual Wolseley Car Club of Ireland Vintage Rally, Tea & Coffee break. Beautiful cars. And everyone waved to us! So friendly!
The record for bicycling from the very north of Ireland to the very south is 19 hours and 3 minutes. We're about half-way distance on the Wild Atlantic Way and it's already been 3 days! We move slowly.
We leave Sligo in the morning under cover of dark clouds. Although it's not raining, we don our sausage suits anyway to ward off the chilly morning temperatures.
Continuing our journey south on the Wild Atlantic Way
I'm really enjoying Ireland's west coast.
So are these guys
The Internet tells me this is the annual Wolseley Car Club of Ireland Vintage Rally, Tea & Coffee break. Beautiful cars. And everyone waved to us!
So friendly!
An off-shoot from the main coastal road takes us over a short bridge to Achill Island. We ride to the western tip of the island
They've put up these little touristy signs all over the Wild Atlantic Way telling you where you are
These signs are great! I don't have to caption these pictures... This leg of the Wild Atlantic Way is called the Bay Coast, boasting numerous inlets and bays, some of them have dramatic cliffs ending abruptly at the Atlantic Ocean. Others, like Keem Bay collect crescents of sand like the webbing between your fingers.
We park the bikes and go exploring Keem Beach.
Hop Scotch along the wet sands
Oh look what we found written on the beach! Somebody must know that we've arrived in Ireland!
Having a great time on Keem Beach
"'Cuz this is Thriller! Thriller Night!"
Well, that was a nice little break. Back on the bikes
Heading out of Keem Bay back to the mainland
Not far from Keem Bay, in the town of Keel, we spot kitesufers on the lake
Perfect place to have some lunch!
Other people have the same idea, watching the kitesurfers go back and forth, catching air on Keel Lake
This cute little puppy glances nervously at us. Neda is figuring out in her head whether it would fit in her tankbag...
Just in case you think I am making things up
Stopping for a refill in Achill Sound, near the bridge between Achill Island and the mainland
The red and green flags are the colours of County Mayo. We see them everywhere. Neda comes out of the grocery store with more food to sustain us for the next couple of days and some yummy snacks. With our supplies topped up (and my topcase and stomach feeling much heavier), we go back over the bridge and onto the mainland!
The sun is peeking out a little bit from the clouds above and the weather has warmed up enough for us to shed the rainsuits. We continue on the Wild Atlantic Way route as it rounds Clew Bay.
Riding through the pretty town of Westport on Clew Bay
The road takes us south through the spectacular Doolough Valley
Despite the amazing scenery on Doolough Pass, this was the site of the Doolough Tragedy during the Great Potato Famine in the 1840s. Officials were being sent to all the villages to assess whether they were eligible for food and government support. Somehow they missed a village and all the starving people who lived there were told to meet the officials the next day in the next village 19kms away. It may not seem that far away, but hundreds of people made the journey overnight in their starved state.
The next morning, the bodies of seven people were found on the road between the two villages. They died of starvation. They say many more died later because of the unnecessary trek they had to make there and back in their weakened state.
Sad.
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