Ireland: getting there and getting going

Whether you see the Wild Atlantic Way as a 1600 mile route of personal discovery along the west coast of Ireland or a clever marketing campaign devised by some desk bound publicity honcho in order to link together assorted tourist boards up and down this island, it's a  part of the world that has to be worth exploring. Ever since I drove along much of the route back in 2012 with four large teenage surfers in search of the perfect wave and the perfect pint of Guinness, I've been keen to return on two wheels and explore at a more civilised pace. 

Fortunately the traumas of cycling through Dumfriesshire in 2013 have faded in the minds of Jan and Mark since both have  agreed to come along for another ride, even though they could only spare a week from their respective busy lives. So, no messing about then! A midnight ferry was caught and day one was spent haring across the Emerald Isle to reach the area we wanted to explore: the four peninsulas of the very south west (called Mizen Head, Beara, Kilarny and Dingle). 

The wiggly stuff on the left was, mostly, covered on two wheels; the rest on four.

En route to Bantry Bay, Jan and Mark both got slightly excited by the plaster casts in Cork Museum - though they nearly walked right past the best exhibit, some conceptual corrugated iron by the enigmatic artist Ainee On. Geddit? Anyone could do it....

After a few cultural and caffeine-related fill ups, we got to Kinsale, south west of Cork,  which is a pretty busy tourist town & officially the start of the WaWa. The Old Head at Kinsale is a suitably wild and dramatic headland to commence the ride but, alas, it has been colonised by a posh golf club with forbidding gates and a no-visitor policy. So we parked just up the road, by the Lusitania Museum, and Jan set off. No point in us all getting wet. 

Jan sets off in front of an admiring crowd.

This is a bird's eye view from the other side of the golf course gates. Wow!

After that 'official' start, we drove along the coast to Clonakilty, Skibbereen and up to Bantry,  where we're airbnb'ing with Chris, an ageing hippy from London who moved out here in 1971 and never went back. 

Another one of those fabulous, jaw-dropping travel shots.
Don't you wish you were here?

Day 2: Getting going on Mizen Head

Tyres pumped, maps folded, sarnies on board,  off we went to explore the Mizen Head peninsula. When you eventually get to  its tip, you are at the most southwesterly point of Ireland and, not far off shore, shrouded in a little haze, you can see the famous Fastnet Lighthouse - another shipping forecast destination ticked off!

To get there, we had cycled along about 50km of quiet, rural road, not that different from western Scotland or northern Cornwall, especially as we neared the end of the cape which echoed John O'Groats' 'end of the world' feeling. Sadly for us lovers of waterside light, the road didn't all follow the sea's edge but it still offered plenty of interest for Mark and I.

Jan, bien sur, was soon a speck in the distance, happily speeding along at her own very unique pace while Mark and I happily weren't. Had we, by chance, come up with a possible solution to the perennial problem of riders going at different speeds which has so plagued my motorbike touring? Here we each ride at our preferred speed, having agreed in advance, where we were going to meet up. It requires that the fastest rider is prepared to wait for the slower at some point and also means that chance discoveries cannot be shared after the ride ('Did you see that church/neolithic picnic site/Arctic tern?' etc) but it seems a relatively small price to pay for good companionship. 

At Mizen Point, my legs told me they needed some calorific revival before I could attempt the return journey, this time on the north coast of the peninsula. And, 50km later, we got back just as the forecast rain began to fall in earnest...on the remaining member of our group who, natch, had extended her ride onto nearby Sheep's Head peninsula. LIke the sheep, we were all eventually gathered in safely, in time for pub supper and early to Bedfordshire.