Friday 31st July. Sitting in a beautiful campsite, in Doolin on the west coast, south of Galway Bay. Planning to cycle to visit the cliffs of Mohar when the wind drops below gale force 8 and the rain is less horizontal than at present. (if apparently I can cycle at speeds greater than three Cambodian children on one bike!) In the meantime lunch (inc. several pints of the black stuff) at the excellent pub just up the road is looking like a hot prospect. We were in the pub last night and saw the hilarious sight of a Japanese tourist being force fed Guinness by his family, he clearly thought it was bog water but was compelled to uphold the family honour and drink the vile stuff. So here we are back in Doolins, not much
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