It's all happening in Northern Ireland

---

Ok, I think I'm ready to talk about the past couple of days now!! Having eaten and slept I'm a little calmer and collected now.

Day 15, Sunday 17th August: Drogheda to Rathfriland
45.76 miles
average speed 11.6 mph
total ride time 3 hours 54 mins

Decide I really must do at least one bit of sightseeing on this trip so this morning I head to church. Not because the bike ride has been so stressful I've turned to God I'm afraid, no, this trip was to see the pickled head of Saint Oliver Plunkett. Yes you heard it right, the guy was hung, drawn and quartered however many hundreds of years ago and made a martyr, so they kept his head, as you do, and plonked it in a glass box in the church for all to see!! Not a desperately pretty sight it has to be said, but at least I can say I've seen the sights of Drogheda now!
Back to cycling in the drizzle again. Pass villages called 'Monasterboice', 'Bog of the Ring' and somewhere that ends in 'feckin' - gotta love the Irish placenames! Stop in Dundalk for food - what a weird town that is. I can't find anywhere to eat but kebab houses and greasy spoons, and yet there's a Tommy Hillfigger shop on the high street?! End up on the dual carriageway into Newry which is a bit daunting but at least big hard shoulder to protect me.
Turn up at another random contact of Fran's, this time someone he knows from the potato industry! Their son comes to show me directions in the car so I have to race after him on my bike and nearly give myself a heartattack trying to keep up! Such a nice family though, really look after me well with food and bath and laundry etc. Kieran then invites me out with his girlfriend to see some more of the sights of Ireland. Start off with ice-cream and the mountains but as the weather is so awful we can't see 2 metres in front of us he then decides it'll be great craich to set me up on a blind date with his friend a local sheep farmer!! Not what I was expecting from this trip but turns out to be a fun night and we see a live band too so all good fun - now I couldn't come to Ireland and not go out now could I!!

Day 16, Monday 18th August: Rathfriland to Belfast
38.01 miles
11.3 mph
3 hours 21 mins

Fussed over at breakfast by Claire who insists on giving me money for my lunch and getting Kieran to show me directions in the car! From then on the day goes downhill (but unfortunately the road doesn't always!)
For a start, Northern Ireland has just had more rain in one weekend than I've seen in a lifetime apparently! Most of the smaller roads are closed so all the traffic, including me, is being funnelled onto the A1 - a busy, roadworks littered dual carriageway with thundering trucks. Bit scary but at least there's the hard shoulder (most of the time) and I figure with the weather so bad may as well push onto Belfast on the flattest, straightest road there is. I'm even beginning to wonder if I'll have anything to report from today as I'll be there in a couple of hours - oh how I shouldn't tempt fate.
Hear a hissing noise and find a chunk of beer bottle happily deflating my rear tire. Being the strong independent woman I now am I change it without too much bother and just starting to feel quite proud of myself. Road sweeper goes past at this point - could have saved me a puncture and been half an hour earlier but I'll forgive him because he gave me a quid for sponsorship.
So I'm back on the road and hurtling along towards Belfast, hard shoulder run out but pavement starting so bump up onto that at the next dropped curb. Next thing I know I'm wobbling all over the place and then my knee and elbow are skidding along for what seems like eternity along a very wet pavement. Thankfully the car behind me slows down and puts their hazards on long enough for me to recover my bike from the road. Then the shock kicks in and I sob uncontrollably while a man tells me I must be crazy to ride on the A1 and to get on the train at the next town! I'm OK now, took a while for me to calm down but all I have is aching ribs and some grazes, plus a big rip in my panniers which should destroy their waterproof qualities.
Thinking that nothing else bad could possibly happen I limp into Lisburn for some food and a new inner tube. I'm then accosted by a fat, old Born Again Christian man who insists on following me the whole way through town, shouting 'stop' and asking me if I've found Jesus? Really don't have the energy to get away from him either, but in return for listening to him rant at me I do get a tenner for the cause so maybe it was worth it?!
Being too petrified to go back on the A1 I've asked the TIC if there's a better route for cyclists - praise Sustrans there is a National Cycle Network route the whole way to Belfast - yipee! Join it and cycle past some sculptures before turning a corner to discover my path rapidly dissappearing into the murky brown depths of the swollen River Lagan - ahh now that could be a problem me thinks. At the moment it's more interesting than TV for flocks of locals to congregate on bridges and watch the flood waters rise, so I shouldn't be suprised my way is blocked. Thankfully nothing else can go wrong and I do find a relatively quiet road that goes direct into Belfast and my hostel. I have never been more relieved to reach my destination in all my life - bring on a new day!!

---