|
In the last decade Ireland
has reinvented itself as the tiger economy of a brave new Europe. We were
keen to experience the country's uniqueness before the perils of globalisation
quashed its weird ways. Plus it appeared to be small, green and flat -
always good attributes for cycle touring. So Max, our 11 month old son,
Jillian and I flew into Cork with a couple of weeks up our sleeves.
We were keen to avoid
juggling bikes on top of Max's baggage train while traipsing through airports.
A short stint on the web uncovered an outfit called Irish Cycle Hire who
had a selection of decent touring bikes. They also had a Burley trailer
- Ireland's wet reputation suggested that this would be a necessary option
for Max. To further reduce on-board weight we chose to indulge in B&B's
rather than our usual camping mode. Gazing at a map of Ireland it is immediately
obvious that there are roads everywhere. Essentially Ireland is an expanse
of rolling green countryside stretching from one coast to the other -
with many cows, white plaster houses and dry stone walls in between. The
South West hogs the most dramatic landforms ... pointy fingers jut out
into the Atlantic and the rolling pasture is modified with harsh rocky
headlands. It's the scenic highlight of all Ireland and has been swamped
by tourists for hundreds of years. We opted to travel early in spring
with the hope of avoiding the peak flow of aging Americans on golfing
tours. Accommodation was no problem and we scored two weeks of still,
warm weather. Even the locals assured us this was a rare occurrence.
So into County Cork we
ventured - biking south west to Clonakilty and further west to Baltimore,
almost the extreme south west tip of the Irish mainland. We rapidly
figured
out that dragging a metre wide buggy on the direct but narrow "main" roads
was foolish - being overtaken by galloping lorries was all too common.
Although more hilly and only vaguely sign-posted, the minor roads were
blessed with little traffic, which massively enhanced our cycling experience.
County Cork is loaded
with pretty fishing villages and multicoloured houses dotted around old
stone wharfs. Quite picturesque but with plenty more to explore we pushed
north up the West Coast - circumnavigating the three peninsulas of Beara,
Kerry and Dingle. We spent a memorable night in Glengariff at the base
of the Beara Peninsula. Guinness in hand, singing at volume with the locals
downstairs while Max snoozed upstairs in his cot. The next morning, breakfast
was served by the same barman who hadn't yet been to sleep. Some traditions
die hard in the Irish heartland.
We avoided the extremity
of the Beara Peninsula by climbing over Healy Pass and cutting into prime
tourist land ... the Ring of Kerry is a hundred mile loop that is most
commonly completed as a day trip in a luxury coach. There's a procession
of these diesel belching conveyances clogging the roads. By convention
they all travel anti-clockwise, a fact we were unaware of but turned
to
our advantage as we pedalled clockwise against the flow. It transpires
that there is a "signposted" cycle-touring route around the Kerry Peninsula.
Despite repeated interrogation of staff at various information offices
we were unable to obtain any details. However with the help of the occasional
sign we ended up fluking about half our time on the less busy cycle route.
Narrow coastal roads teetered around exposed cliff faces with big-sky
views over the Atlantic. Spectacular. And with the luck of the locals
we enjoyed plenty of sun and an absence of wind - even chancing the occasional
dip in the ocean.
Coming off Valencia Island
at the head of Kerry we gazed northwards across to the Dingle Peninsula.
Another big day in the saddle and we cruised into Dingle itself. Nearby
are many of the more spectacular archaeological sites - the Gallarus
Oratory
and various standing stones. With sheltered harbours, these headlands
have been home to various Franciscan Monks, Vikings and Celtic tribes
over the last few thousand years. Their remnants make inspiring viewing
and good picnic stops. Climbing the Connar Pass we caught up with the
Milk Rás - Ireland's only professional road tour. The peleton
of 180 riders whizzed by and we gathered toots and waves from the spectators
and support vehicles. It felt good to be on the bikes. We had intended
to carry on up to Galway but time was pressing so we scooted back down
to Killarney. This was our final stop but not before a pleasant day trip
over the Gap of Dunloe. This has been a popular excursion since Victorian
times and involved a two hour boat trip in an open dingy with our bikes,
followed by a 30km ride over a spectacular pass and down a glacial valley.
The only other traffic were horse traps carrying geriatrics - out en
masse
for a hit of fresh air.
Although Ireland has
experienced huge economic growth in recent years, the only visible signs
of this new wealth are heaps of new cars and a speculative property boom
... the remote South West has become the darling location for get-away-from-it-all
holiday houses. Thankfully, the fabric of Irish society appears relatively
unchanged behind this façade. Of course our B&B hosts all
loved Max and his toothy enthusiasm made each day's riding all the more
rewarding.
|
