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Published: September 2nd 2018
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As three sodden, cold and shivery Australians rode the last few kilometres into the small village near the ferry terminal I was incredibly proud and impressed anew by Katy’s courage, forbearance and indomitable spirit which she has demonstrated countless times in this part of our trip. I also reflected on our incredible good fortune vis a vis the notorious Irish weather over the last seven days when rain would have added an element of challenge on some of our epic days of cycling around the Connemara region of western Ireland (with the exception of this morning when the skies emptied while we were riding through open bog country devoid of shelter and we all got absolutely saturated!) For the second time on our holiday we had had to seek refuge in a pub to wait out a rain storm with a warming pot of tea and pint of guiness for Ev. We took turns holding katy’s Drenched travel pants under the hand dryer in the bathroom - her tag along didn’t have mud guards and she had gotten the worst of the wet - and waited for the sun to re-emerge.
Our eight day cycling adventure began with a cross
country train journey from Rathdrum near the horse caravan base to Westport. That night we had orientation, route briefing and familiarisation with our bikes. We were a bit nervous because we had planned on using a tag-along attachment for Katy and she has not spent a lot of time riding a bike and that time has featured anxiety. Katy was also a bit trepidatious, adding to our uncertainty. Fortunately our first day was a short ride along the Greenway - a dedicated cycle path along the Atlantic coast. Katy soon took to the tag-along and was regaling us all with a near endless patter which over the journey encompasseed songs and monologues about Evan’s bottom, the weather, how much she loves us, how to catch various Irish monsters (plus elaborate descriptions of them) and bodily functions. She was an absolute trooper and was unfazed by some of our longest days of 50km+ distances.
The landscape we had selected for our bike tour was the Connemara region in western Ireland. It was characterised by huge mountains, often snow capped or enshrouded by clouds, traversing fjords and river valleys, coastal cliffs and tiny villages clinging doggedly to the rocky hillsides, and
flat bog land. The palette of our journey was an amazing range of greens and browns, white of cottages, and the often grey skies. We were continually awestruck by the scenery as we rode down quiet windy country roads largely devoid of traffic.
Our favourite day was a tough hilly ride through the Doo Lough valley - a pass winding between soaring mountains where we literally rode through clouds. This haunting valley had been the location of a tragic
trek undertaken by 600 starving people during the Great Famine in 1849. Starting in the north in Louisburgh they were turned away from the workhouse and told to make their way ten miles to south. They had to trek via sheep paths through the very same mountain pass we rode along. Upon arriving they were again turned away by Poor Officials. Many died on that terrible journey. We have read much about the impact of the Famine as the impact in this region of Ireland was profound and desperately sad.
This long, 53km day, was due to end up in the town of Leenane, on the edge of a beautiful fjord. As we rode into town with our aching
bodies feeling everyone of those kms I saw a sign which had a silhouette of an old fashioned bathtub and the word “Soak”. As we drew nearer I saw the words “hot seaweed baths”. “Ev” I said, “I don’t care how much it costs I am having one of those!!” We pulled in front of our hotel and checked in. As I was about to inquire about Soak the concierge slid a discount voucher across the counter - Soak was IN our hotel complex!!!!! He kindly booked sessions for us and fifteen minutes later I was immersed in hot water which also contained long bulbous tendrils of local seaweed. The sensation was incredible and so healing. After 45 minutes of soaking I stood up and pulled the cord above the tub and was showered with icy mountain spring water to close my pores. I literally floated on jelly legs back to our room to let Ev have his turn. I will remember that bath for a long time!!!!!!!!!!
The second last, and wettest day, saw us arrive in Rossaveel to catch a ferry to Inishmore, the largest of the Aran Islands. I had been very keen to visit the
Aran Islands and we had added an extra day into our itinerary to ensure their inclusion. The ferry crossing, in rough, grey and rainy weather was grim and unpleasant but mercifully short. Miraculously as we bisembarked the skies cleared. We sent our luggage to our hotel and set off to explore the island. There are few cars and tourists are transported by pony trap, mini bus or bikes. We were keen to see Dun Aengus - one of the most well preserved prehistoric forts in Europe. It sits atop an imposing cliff that drops in a dizzying plunge straight into the grey Atlantic Ocean. Built long before OSH laws there are no railings and idiotic tourists tempt fate by leaning over the cliff edge for the perfect selfie.
The fort has a near intact circular stone wall protecting the inner living areas despite being 2,500+ years old. The island is networked by labyrinthine stone walls enclosing small fields. The walls have no mortar and rely on careful placement of well balanced rocks. It is truly different from anywhere else. Naturally the rain reappeared just as we reached the cliff summit of the fort and remained until we had climbed
most of the way down before remaining sunny for the rest of the day!!! Aahhhhh Ireland!!
The following day we did our obligatory Aran Island knitwear shopping - persuaded to buy a vest and cardigan we may never be cold enough in Australia to ever wear!!
This morning we have a transfer to Galway where we will spend two nights before heading to our final stop - Belfast. We are sad to leave as we have really enjoyed getting an intimate understanding of this little corner of Ireland.
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