A tree week cycle tour from Dublin following the coast around to Doolin on the west coast. 766 miles & 10917mts ascent, 15 wild camps, 4 campsites & 1 hostel.
[Music] Having taken the ferry from Hollyhead to Dublin, we headed south along the coast down towards Wexford and Waterford and eventually to Cork where my bike was repaired having suffered a freehub failure. Then it was west of the peninsulas around those and then up towards um Dulin on the west coast and then through the Buron finally to Gort where we got the train back to Dublin with storm florest rapidly approaching. We tucked our tent low in a field. Next morning though was pretty miserable as we headed out and we had 10 miles of our coats on and rain and wind pushing against us and we headed west into it. But gradually it brightened and it was reverted to strong winds that slowed us down and rattled us around the road. But it was uh relatively straightforward and not as bad as we expected. [Music] Given the strong westerly wind down at Balanuart Beach, we hid our tent in a little hollow in the sandunes and had a very comfortable night. [Music] Just west of Wellington Bridge, we found a lovely camp just above the shore on the edge of of a field that looked like it had been abandoned uh by the farmer, just beside the wreck of an old dredging ship. [Music] We crossed the Barrow River on a small ferry, saving miles of cycling as there aren’t many bridges around here. [Music] We headed out of water but on a greenway. We were rather surprised to find there was a tourist train chugging along narrow gauge tracks along just one part of it. But it gave very very good going and was beautifully smoothly tarmaced for all its route. [Music] From our lovely camp at the mouth of the Daligan River, we headed west on more greenways and undulated through lovely Irish countryside, cows grazing all around and lovely fields with hedges. [Music] Having had my bike stuttering free hub men in cork, we headed south to beyond consale to a wonderful coastal camp just at the end of a farmer’s track with lovely views over the sea and just beyond an abandoned village where people had died in the potato famine. [Music] Hilly, undulating rural riding took us southwest along the coast. Wind in our faces all the time, but it was delightful going and we had wonderful camps always on the coast. [Music] Thankfully, my bike’s free hub, which had been replaced in cork, was working beautifully well, cuz some of the hills were ridiculously steep, and it was always undulating up and down. There were hardly any level sections at all. [Music] We hoped to find a camp on Galley Head, but it was uh exposed, jutting out, very very windy. There were plenty of cows roaming around and actually there were lots of private signs, too. So, we dropped down and uh checked out the beach. You can see here in the image, again, private signs. So, we found a lovely spot behind the beach, very sheltered. [Music] As we approached the southern edge of the Ring of Kerry, the weather gradually improved and it became swelteringly hot by the afternoon as we found a delightful camp down by the coast and an old pier. Here we fried up sausages for lunch tomorrow and it was a lovely place just to veg out and chill after a hilly day on the bike. Heat. Heat. [Music] [Applause] [Music] [Applause] [Music] [Applause] [Music] [Applause] [Music] [Applause] Now on the Dingle Peninsula, we headed west to the sandy spit of Inch where we hoped to find a good camp. We didn’t see any signs saying no camping and we took our bike down the beach where there were hundreds of cars parked. Found a way through the maron grass and tucked our tent away in Little Hollow. It was an absolutely delightful spot. Although next morning, walking out, we got our chains full of grit that took 10 12 miles to to grind down to nothing. Nearing Dingle, we actually found three other cyclists at a corner, all French and enjoying their time in Ireland. [Music] The town of Dingle was overflowing with tourists. And after buying supplies, we continued west around Slee Head, the most westerly point on the mainland. And we searched out to camp on the north side of the Dingle Peninsula, wandering around through deep grass, eventually finding a tremendous spot right next to a beach. Here we had a lovely cab with no disturbances at all. Perhaps there were very few people near our camp because of a very wet access lane. [Music] [Music] The 410 m up to the summit of the corner pass was a tough climb, but much easier than my memory. From 1987, we’re on the top of a 5-speed road bike and the gears weren’t quite low enough. We zoom down enjoying miles of descension. [Applause] In the tiny fenet we camped on the shore, but were deafened for most of the night by a violent thundtor. But thankfully the night and daytime was dry again. Having crossed the Shannon by ferry, we headed northeast up the coast with some lovely camps down little lanes and uh tucked away out of view. We were aiming for the Buron, the limestone scenery just east of the town of Dulan where we’d started our tour on the coast back in 2018. [Music] Here, just east of Dulan, we explored the lovely limestone pavements, mostly by foot, knowing that our trip had ended and we were now heading back towards Dublin and then back home. What a fantastic tour and lovely weather this time. So much better than 2018 when we’d had three miserable weeks. [Music] [Music] [Music] [Applause] [Music] [Applause] [Music] [Applause] [Music] [Applause] [Music]