lightcycle
Nomad
"'Cuz this is Thriller! Thriller Night!"
Well, that was a nice little break. Back on the bikes
Heading out of Keem Bay back to the mainland
[YEAR 7!] Quit our jobs, sold our home, gone riding...
- Thread starter lightcycle
- Start date
"'Cuz this is Thriller! Thriller Night!"
Well, that was a nice little break. Back on the bikes
Heading out of Keem Bay back to the mainland
lightcycle
Nomad
Not far from Keem Bay, in the town of Keel, we spot kitesufers on the lake
Perfect place to have some lunch!
Other people have the same idea, watching the kitesurfers go back and forth, catching air on Keel Lake
This cute little puppy glances nervously at us. Neda is figuring out in her head whether it would fit in her tankbag...
Just in case you think I am making things up
lightcycle
Nomad
Stopping for a refill in Achill Sound, near the bridge between Achill Island and the mainland
The red and green flags are the colours of County Mayo. We see them everywhere. Neda comes out of the grocery store with more food to sustain us for the next couple of days and some yummy snacks. With our supplies topped up (and my topcase and stomach feeling much heavier), we go back over the bridge and onto the mainland!
The sun is peeking out a little bit from the clouds above and the weather has warmed up enough for us to shed the rainsuits. We continue on the Wild Atlantic Way route as it rounds Clew Bay.
Riding through the pretty town of Westport on Clew Bay
The road takes us south through the spectacular Doolough Valley
Despite the amazing scenery on Doolough Pass, this was the site of the Doolough Tragedy during the Great Potato Famine in the 1840s. Officials were being sent to all the villages to assess whether they were eligible for food and government support. Somehow they missed a village and all the starving people who lived there were told to meet the officials the next day in the next village 19kms away. It may not seem that far away, but hundreds of people made the journey overnight in their starved state.
The next morning, the bodies of seven people were found on the road between the two villages. They died of starvation. They say many more died later because of the unnecessary trek they had to make there and back in their weakened state.
Sad.
lightcycle
Nomad
Kylemore Abbey in County Galway
The road takes us further south and we reach the next County, Galway. On the shores of a lake, we saw a magnificent grey building called Kylemore Abbey. So we pulled in for a closer look. The Abbey was built around the time of the Great Famine. A rich politician from England came over and spent his sizeable fortune helping the locals, giving them work, shelter and building a school on the estate.
There's supposed to be a beautiful garden on the grounds of Kylemore Abbey, but you had to pay an admission fee - €13.00 per person. That's a big Nope. So we hopped back on our bikes. Nice abbey, though!
Doing a route adjustment
It's getting late and I originally had us stopping near Galway. The GPS said it was about three hours away, but I know we like to go slow, stop and poke around, so there was no way we were going to make it before nightfall at our current pace. So I broke out the laptop, hopped on the Internet and tried to find a closer camping spot.
Another nice little detour off the main Wild Atlantic Way
You can stay on the main road that loosely follows the coastline, but the real treats are when you take these little roads that go out and back in to all the tiny fingers of land. This one is called Sky Road, and it's only a 12km loop away from the main road, but from here you can ride along the coast and the road rises up in places where you can get a view of all the tiny islets that dot the inside of the bay.
lightcycle
Nomad
Rounding Aughrusbeg Lough, a small lake on the inside of the Sky Road peninsula
Sky Road lookout, with the all the tiny islets in the background swimming in the Wild Atlantic Ocean
See the squiggly line on the post above the sign for Sky Road? That's the tourist logo for the Wild Atlantic Way. You don't even need a GPS to ride the route. Just follow all the signs with the squiggly line on it, pointing you onwards.
Back on the road, we pass through the town of Clifden. There's some kind of Mexican festival going on! Spanish music playing on the speakers as we ride by!
lightcycle
Nomad
The only campsite in the area is off the main road of the Wild Atlantic Way. We ditch the squiggly line signs and venture off on another loop that follows the coastline towards Gurteen Bay, on the southern shoreline of the peninsula.
Yay, we get the tent up before the sun sets. And before the scheduled rains which are due to arrive soon!
What a great day! Full of sights, riding roads, and nice little detours into beaches, bays and lakes. And best of all: no rain!
We are really enjoying taking our time on the west coast of Ireland!
Yay, we get the tent up before the sun sets. And before the scheduled rains which are due to arrive soon!
What a great day! Full of sights, riding roads, and nice little detours into beaches, bays and lakes. And best of all: no rain!
We are really enjoying taking our time on the west coast of Ireland!
lightcycle
Nomad
Thanks! Maybe it was so, five and a half years ago when we left, but it's kind of like bungie jumping, where most of the bravery happens when you will yourself to step off the edge. After that, you're just along for the ride. That's kind of how we feel right now, where it's actually more work and more mental effort to settle down than to just keep traveling.
So we don't feel too brave these days. Just lazy!
Thank you, appreciate the kind words! :26_7_2:
Campingnoob
New member
Great thread and also updated with photos. Hope you all the best! ☺️
lightcycle
Nomad
Updated from http://www.RideDOT.com/rtw/365.html
I've woken up in the middle of the night by two sensations. The pitter-patter sound of rain pelting against the walls of the tent and the fact that my feet are freezing. I reach down to feel them. Not just freezing. But wet!
ARGH! The tent is leaking!
I wake up Neda and we turn on the flashlight hanging overhead to inspect the pool growing inside our home. It's a good thing we normally orient our tent so our heads are slightly on higher ground, otherwise there'd be water everywhere all over the floor!
This is very frustrating to us. It's served us so well for so long. But failing while riding the rainy west coast of Ireland - the timing could not have been any worse! Well, okay, it would have been worse if it had failed in Norway...
From what we can tell, there's water leaking from the seams of both the fly and the inner layer. Nothing we can fix in the middle of the night. I grab a towel and do the sop-inside/wring-outside to get most of the rainwater out, leaving the towel at the foot of our tent and then scooching my entire sleeping bag uphill so I'm pressed up against the head of the tent. It's going to be a long night.
It's still raining when we wake up. The towel is soaked, but my retreat to the front of the tent has kept my feet from soaking up any more liquid. We have to pack the tent up in the rain, which is my least favorite thing to do. Like putting wet socks on and then putting your shoes on over it. Gross.
Riding in the wet again, heading back north along the coast to re-join the main route of the Wild Atlantic Way
During the ride, all that's on my mind is thinking about what are we going to do tonight. If the wet weather continues when we stop, we might have to book an AirBnB. We've had luck finding cheap AirBnBs in the larger cities because of the abundance and the competition, but out in the sticks it's going to be expensive.
Speaking of cities, we pass the outskirts of Galway and then around the coast of Galway Bay. Ed Sheeran takes my mind off the rain:
My pretty little Pula girl, picking up more snacks at the side of the road
I've woken up in the middle of the night by two sensations. The pitter-patter sound of rain pelting against the walls of the tent and the fact that my feet are freezing. I reach down to feel them. Not just freezing. But wet!
ARGH! The tent is leaking!
I wake up Neda and we turn on the flashlight hanging overhead to inspect the pool growing inside our home. It's a good thing we normally orient our tent so our heads are slightly on higher ground, otherwise there'd be water everywhere all over the floor!
This is very frustrating to us. It's served us so well for so long. But failing while riding the rainy west coast of Ireland - the timing could not have been any worse! Well, okay, it would have been worse if it had failed in Norway...
From what we can tell, there's water leaking from the seams of both the fly and the inner layer. Nothing we can fix in the middle of the night. I grab a towel and do the sop-inside/wring-outside to get most of the rainwater out, leaving the towel at the foot of our tent and then scooching my entire sleeping bag uphill so I'm pressed up against the head of the tent. It's going to be a long night.
It's still raining when we wake up. The towel is soaked, but my retreat to the front of the tent has kept my feet from soaking up any more liquid. We have to pack the tent up in the rain, which is my least favorite thing to do. Like putting wet socks on and then putting your shoes on over it. Gross.
Riding in the wet again, heading back north along the coast to re-join the main route of the Wild Atlantic Way
During the ride, all that's on my mind is thinking about what are we going to do tonight. If the wet weather continues when we stop, we might have to book an AirBnB. We've had luck finding cheap AirBnBs in the larger cities because of the abundance and the competition, but out in the sticks it's going to be expensive.
Speaking of cities, we pass the outskirts of Galway and then around the coast of Galway Bay. Ed Sheeran takes my mind off the rain:
My pretty little Pula girl, picking up more snacks at the side of the road
lightcycle
Nomad
#SkySoMoody
While hugging the coastline, we stop at the Murrooghtoohy Discovery Point
This is the site of a karst formation called The Burren
These smooth rocks create a vast field of alien landscape all the way from the road to the lapping waves of the Atlantic Ocean. Thankfully, the rain has stopped so we park the bikes and go exploring the area, clambering over the smooth, pale rocks and the deep cracks in between them.
lightcycle
Nomad
Other visitors have built little Inukshuks all over, so Neda adds hers to the collection
We have such a fun time walking around this limestone wonderland. We have it all to ourselves...
... until this tour bus came and spewed tourists out into The Burren. They're like insects crawling over food at a picnic. That's our cue to leave.
lightcycle
Nomad
Just south of the Burren, we spy a castle on the hill. Hey, isn't that another Ed Sheeran song...?
Doonagore Castle is just a tower with walls around it. The tower looks like it's wearing a crown
Just down the street of the castle we find this funky restaurant called The Stonecutter's Kitchen. Since it was lunchtime, we decided to get some Irish food.
Drying our rainsuits in the sun
A hearty Irish stew, chock full of meat and potatoes, is a great remedy to erase the remnants of our cold, wet ride this morning
lightcycle
Nomad
And then just another couple of kms away are the grand Cliffs of Moher. There are people on the left side of the picture, for scale
Ireland's most visited natural wonder. These cliffs sport a sheer vertical drop of over 700 feet all the way to the waves crashing far, far below on the rocky feet of the wall-face. There are barriers near the visitor centre that prevent people from falling over the cliffs, but if you hike far enough, the barriers just stop existing and all of a sudden there's nothing between you and 700 feet of Wile E. Coyote air. But this is after you pass a huge warning sign stating that Ireland is no longer responsible if you venture too close to the edge and the strong winds of Moher blow you off the edge of the cliff.
*beep* *beep*
Hiking past by the big warning sign to one of the cliff edges
*Everyone* hikes past the sign. It's the whole point of coming here! There I am, in the middle of the picture
lightcycle
Nomad
Not many people sit or stand right at the edge of the cliffs. They lie down to stop from being blown off the edge
The heights are dizzying. If the winds don't blow you off, vertigo just might!
There have been a few recorded deaths of people who've fallen off the edge...
Bah! I ain't afraid of no 700 foot high cliffs!
Actually I was crapping my pants... This is how I crawled out to the ledge... I also crawled back out the same way!
Whenever I'm up so high, my toes start to tingle. And my heart starts pounding big-time!
Well, enough adrenaline rush for the day, we get back on the bikes and start our final push. Our wet tent plays on my mind, but the weather looks dry enough to camp for another night.