We had planned to start with a lovely ride over the Caha mountains near Bantry, including hand carved tunnels and dramatic mountain views. Alas the day dawned misty with outbreaks of fog. Or was it foggy with outbreaks of mist? So plan A was abandoned...postponed until our next visit as the ever-optimistic locals would probably say.
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| The family cemetery of the O'sullivans was remarkable for the way that half the cemetery was bog-standard marble forest, with a traditional range of uninspiring memories of loved ones gone to glory, while the other half was, unaccountably, derelict - as if the good Lord had unleashed a rightous thunderbolt on a funeral procession. Did someone other than a member of the O'Sullivan clan attempt to gain entry? Did someone say a bad word or think an impure thought? |
Instead we drove on down through Kenmare (where I had encountered some apocalyptic market scenes in my previous visit) and on to Smeed, where I let Jan and Mark out to ride up the hill in the rain and the mist, while I motored safely to a meeting spot. The coast road round the corner near Lambs Head was a beauty. You could tell by the quality and number of coach-friendly lay-bys that it's a top notch bit of the WaWa. The sign at the local pub said it all, 'The best views in the south west (fog permitting)'
But, again, a patch of clearer weather blew in and we found ourselves pedalling round the end of the peninsula, near Valencia Island and the romantically named St Finan's Bay. In truth it's not massively romantic; civilisation, such as it is, hangs on by a thread in all these remote communities which are great to visit but maybe not to live in.
I won't go into any detail of the mountainous climb that appeared, as if my magic from the mist, which Mark and I ascended cursing roundly as we struggled past yet another shrine to Our Lady of Bewildered Bikers.
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