I'm caving in

Monday, 19th of September. I not only did the direct route to Dublin, I did it by train. Saturday was once again just a rainy day and I wasn't in the mood to go out and cycle. Wherefore? Sean, Anne's boyfriend, had agreed to host me, Anne was happily in Dublin, too, at the moment, and we arranged to meet in an Irish club where they wanted to go to this evening.

When I wanted to buy my ticket the woman on the counter referred me to the train people to asked if I could take my bike with me. First they weren't so sure but then they agreed. Going by train isn't so popular in Ireland, most people are using the buses. There are not that much routes, and also the usage differs from the way it is in Germany, it's much more relaxed but also seems to be much less organized.

I liked the train ride. A new facet of my Ireland image. But all over Ireland the same boring weather. When I arrived in Dublin I tried to open my perception for this place, and actually it was a little like an interesting new experience – big colourful lights, night life, maybe somehow unique… I had some optimism, and it was fun to navigate through the city centre to find the club where I would meet Anne and Sean. Club Conradh na Gaeilge is a non-governmental organisation that promotes the Irish language in Ireland and abroad – so Sean taught me how to order my guinness in Irish (but I can't remember the spelling anymore…). I had a little faith by seeing Anne again, but was also fragile inside of me. When I'm in this mood I need lots of affirmation that people really like me and mean it. Otherwise I feel bound to act self confident, to show I'm an interesting person, who is worth the time to spend with and no boring burden. And Anne and Sean were very friendly but also busy. And then I'm not so sure if people just try to be nice but not really care.

On Sunday I once again cycled the ten kilometres up to the city centre but felt so lonely I wasn't able to motivate myself to do some touristic or cultural stuff. Dublin is so loud, so much people, so much traffic (this day lots of people on the street were celebrating because some sports team had won some game), and I was so small and lost. For the first time on my tour I really missed Klaus, because there was no reason to discover this town without him. I went to an Internet café that also gave me a bad feeling about being impersonal and not trustful and secure because of the suggestion to lock the rucksack. This was the time when the crying started. I couldn't stand it, couldn't control it, It was just losing all cohesion. I tried to find something to hold on to, but in the end there was just crying and this complete caving in. I cycled back to Sean's place, when another rain caught me. But those things couldn't get me down, I felt so lost and without any faith, so it didn't matter or was just fitting.

When I was back, Sean asked if I wasn't okay, so my small ability to buck up got lost again. My only idea how to help myself was to take the next train up to Tramore, as this place was the closest to home I could get in the moment. Sean wasn't reserved when I couldn't hold back tears and tried to say helpful things – that I surely miss my boyfriend, that I'm probably homesick, what actually isn't wrong but when you are so much caving in those statements can't really help. I needed to stay with friends where I could be sure it would be okay to burden them with myself. And I couldn't imagine it could be fun for Sean to have me around crying all the time because I feel so lost and don't know how to go on with my life. So I packed my stuff. When saying good bye Sean seemed to be really concerned. He regret we didn't spend more time together to get to know each other and do some music together. And then he gave me a long and warm hug. This felt so good. Maybe I could have had some more trust. But going to a place where I could be sure to feel comfortable felt much more safer.

During this train ride the crying came over me from time to time, but changed it's character. It wasn't no longer just feeling lonely and homesick but much more about feeling helpless and desperate about still don't know how to go on with my life. Am I a loser if I can't stand society's rules? What makes oneself a worthwhile person? Am I bad and selfish if I just produce this feelings that I can't stand it anymore? Isn't it just handy to wallow in self-pity about my suffering and just feel to ill as I would be able to do what all people have to do? It's all gridlocked and I can't figure out these conflicts. Why can't I be different? Maybe I use my feelings to manipulate others, so if I would be an worthwhile person I would just feel different. I don't want to fulfil any demand anymore. But a worthwhile person would just be able not to think about these things as demands.

When I left the train a woman wished me good luck on my trip home which felt good. Night cycling the ten or fifteen kilometres up to Tramore was nice, so in the end I cycled nearly 50 kilometres this day. This evening I realized for the first time that the days have become significant shorter – it was dark when I get on my bike at 8 P.M. So once again: Maybe it's also not the best time for cycling. And I still don't have to. I'm looking forward to come back home. And cycling through France could be nice, I think I will give it a try. But first I will stay with Patti and Mark and have some good talks like we started to do yesterday. It's not that I'm unhappy. I just don't know how to change live and become satisfied. And it doesn't help that I'm so annoyed about myself and think I'm putting myself much to center-stage.

Ireland sucks

Saturday, 17th of September. Once again: Rain, clouds, wind – it looses all its fun. So I'm changing plans again: I will not cycle the North of Ireland and Northern Ireland. My last vision is Dublin, where it shouldn't matter if it's raining or not, because there I will be just a visitor doing sightseeing – and then it's only two more stages until I will see my first Irish hosts and friends Patty and Mark again, with whom I will spend my last days in Ireland.

Yesterday started good. Some short rain shower shortly after leaving Castlebar (so once again a stop to put on the rain protection and then take off after ten minutes, but without the changing I would have been soaked). Then nice sun for maybe two hours. Fast and easy cycling for the first 50 kilometres. The area of Lough Conn is just great, but when I left it became cloudy and also some misty rain started from time to time. It also becomes autumn, what normally would be good, but if it means this bad weather, it isn't.

Cycling the N 59 from Ballina up to Sligo was definitely the wrong idea. Road and landscape are just boring – just a straight way with continuous ups and downs. And I don't realize an uphill, I'm just thinking: "Oh I'm not that fast, seems I'm more in a comfortable mood right now", and when it goes downhill I become clear. But it's nothing nice about this. Give me winding roads in interesting landscape, and I don't care about if it's hilly!

I had an acceptance for hosting me in Sligo, but no contact details – neither an address nor a phone number, so I hoped for a couchsurfing message when I arrived in Sligo, what I did after 110 kilometres at 5 P.M., but no message. I thought about going on after some warm food. but after being on the N 15 for two kilometres without any chance to cross a nice pub or restaurant, I decided to return – I definitely wouldn't cycle this disgusting road! And while thinking so I also didn't see any usage for going on to the North. And the fact, that I didn't had any contact details of my host in Ballylifllin confirmed my resolution.

So at least I found a good place to eat in Sligo and to think about how to go on. I felt really frustrated. Not about power. Not about no cycling anymore. It's just that I don't like it here at all. I don't feel comfortable. So I don't have to stay here. But nevertheless I could have cried. The nice woman in the Café Society helped me a lot when let me use her private internet access and also her phone and actually helped me to guide Kate, my host in Sligo (who meanwhile had answered again, so mow a I had a mobile number), to her place – Kate was so lovely to pick me up (I felt really lost in this town, I'm too sensitive to traffic and crowd). So it wasn't that easy but after some trouble we met.

Sligo has lot's of traffic, all in a one way street system… I don't feel comfortable in all these towns, Limerick doesn't seem so unusual at all. I love these small villages with all these colourful little shops, but not the towns. I don't know if it's because of the weather or the North – maybe people are different here. Maybe I have to much insight in people's daily routine and can't see any beauty in it any longer. Maybe people told me to much about the real Irish, what just means their experiences as a foreigner in this country. I don't know. At the moment I'm looking much more forward to cycle France.

On the road again!

Thursday, 15th of September. I felt like doing cycling, I was awake, and it looked good outside. The whole forenoon it felt like the new morning, some gentle light, like from the first morning sun. And also when I was on my bike. it felt so peaceful, and I was constantly looking around to see all the beauty which surrounded me. So totally different from my last impression when I first cycled this roads with all the storm and rain and force of nature.

In Clifden I lost my way without noticing. Clifden seems to be very nice, but it doesn't care about ones orientation – barely a sign. So when I found one, I was glad to follow, but didn't thought about the road I was looking for didn't start in this town, so there were two ways for it (I wanted to cycle the N 59 up to Westport, but took accidentally the direction up to Galway). Nevertheless the landscape was nice and interesting, and when 20 kilometres later I realized how I went wrong, it wasn't a loop way, just an alternative way which didn't lead along the coast but along Darryclare Lough and Ballynahinch Lough, and when cycling the R 334 it was just great, such a nice little road. Now I was in the really hilly area of Connemara, but the road wasn't effected that much by this, some ups and downs, nice winding, but to both sides the mountains raise, Maumturk Mountains to the right and Twelve Bens to the left. And lots of sheep next to and on the road!

So it was just lovely new cycling, not that windy, mostly sunny. Originally I had planed to cycle the R 335 from Aasleagh up to Westport, but after a short break I noticed some tiredness, so I decided to take the shorter route, that also would be nice, a local woman told me, and it was. (It's so enjoyable, you just have to sit with your packed bike somewhere and people will come to you and ask about your doing…) The weather changed a little, so it was still bright clear sky in front, but cloudy and stormy behind me, and the dark clouds tried to catch me, but it wasn't that worse.

Once I passed a building, where a sign on the wall in front attract my attention: stop and pray. Just in the middle of nowhere. Then I realized the building was a church, build in modern style. The sign works, but just for half: When I was taking my photo another car stopped, too, but both we forgot about the praying…

 

In Westport after 80 kilometres of cycling I had a bigger break to eat something salty, and when standing up again, I had abruptly bad biting in my calves like getting a cramp – it came out of nothing. I did some stretching and took an extra magnesium and then it was okay again, no problems when going on with cycling. But very curious.

I arrived in Castlebar after 115 kilometres and didn't had any problems to find the home of this night's couchsurfing host John, to whom I had contact since I arrived in Ireland. Unfortunately my towel didn't arrive, I have no idea what has happened, I have contacted Allan but are waiting for reply at the moment – hopefully my stuff didn't get lost. Curiously I don't want to buy a new towel.

John was just nice, although he was tired of working the last three nights and haven't really slept since the last night. But I felt comfortable from the first moment. John has a unbelievable shower, which is located immediate behind a door – so the shower room isn't bigger than the shower tube!

It was a very relaxed evening we spend together and also curious, as there were some other people who were very – let's say: fascinated about conspiracy theory respective UFOs, aliens and the government who knows about this but does not tell us. They showed me some very weird "documentaries" on You Tube, that were made so extremely emotional manipulative – filming of unidentified objects and lights, crazy frightened people on the phone, scary music in the background, most reports taken from the news, so very popular level and much more entertaining, especially when the announcers talked about the features…


Johns brother shocked me when mentioned, I must have very rich parents to be able to do such a trip – it's not only that actually I'm doing this trip in very cheap way, but to think I could be one of these spoiled kids who never have to do something for the things they get! He couldn't be more wrong about me. One should think others know that such a bicycle tour isn't always fun.

A new landscape – but this can't help

Saturday, 10th of September. I left Galway with the feeling of escaping. I couldn't open my heart and my soul to the maybe or probably existing nice side of this town. To me it's just a symbol how fragile my world is. I first had to regenerate. But cycling the R 336 along the coast wasn't much better, it felt boring and soulless. One interesting thing was this so called craft village, very commercial and touristic but if it works, fair enough.

Once again I felt weary and couldn't really find into the cycling. But my edging of light was Melanie, my next host, who had answered so fast and nice to my request I sent from Aille River Hostel, that I knew this would be a warm and friendly place. When I left the straight way to west the landscape began to change, what was good. It also was very windy. This morning I had said to myself: Wind is okay but please no rain again, and so it came. I had sunny times, clouds and some more or less misty rain but nothing what sob you. But this day I had to learn, that it's much more easier to resist the rain than the wind if you are in it all the time.

When coming to Derryrush I decided not to cycle along the coast of the peninsula but to use a small road, because although it would be enough kilometres this day, I didn't trust the coast in this area and the wind had started to change into storm. This asphaltic path I now cycled was just like lost in the wide and power of nature. Those things frightened me, it's this Into the wild feeling. It's just too big, too powerful. It was an intense experience. In this area called Connemara Ireland has lost all it's green and remembered me much more of a mixture of Kansas (or what I think Kansas would be or once was or still is in The Wizard of Oz) and the German Lüneburg Heath than Ireland.

This storm was so intense! The only good thing or in one way good thing was that it changed constantly his direction, so not really a bad problem with adverse winds, but all this power all the time! Crosswind where one could and had to lean against. For a short time sometimes following wind, but the main experience was just all this power, and it was so loud, too, because the wind made lots sound with my rain coat. It's exhausting in a weird way, because the struggle isn't so much in the muscles when it makes no difference if you stay or move. But it's just hard to exist.

The Connemara ground is basically turf. Many of the residents continue to cut turf for use in heating their homes during the long winter months. So you can see lots of little ditches which were formed by the cutting. You see also many places were the turf is placed to dry. And surely you have the turf smell all around you. As I said, rather interesting, but this day I could only know but not feel this. To me everything became apathetically this day.

After 80 kilometres I start to feel bad and exhausted, I had enough sweety and fruity eating with me, but my body wanted something salty and savoury. I wasn't in an area with much population, yes, some houses combined to a village, but no shops or restaurants, and I was also looking forward to get some warm and tasty meal at Melanie's place. So I decided to go on – carefully but straight. Once again I didn't cycle along the coast but did the direct route from Cushatrower up to Ballinaboy and there it really wore me down. It's not that your muscles hurt or you don't have any power in them, it's just that it want work anymore.

The whole situation pissed me off. When I was at this end I gave up and rested, helped myself with some dates. You can't change circumstances. I wasn't up for cycling anymore, not now not the next days, never – I was just thinking about quitting the tour and come back home. Having a home is such a good memory. Curiously I wouldn't have taken a lift if one of the cars who rarely passed me would have offered. I knew I would be able to do it on my own, so it wasn't about power. But I was frustrated, so down, so much ways away from any meaning. So also in quitting there was no hope.

Cycling the R 341 next to the Mannin Bay there the storm topped his intensity, now there was so much wind one could have probably stand within it on the bike. At this time I once again counted the half kilometres – this was also the way I did the last five kilometres up to Ballinaboy. After 100 kilometres I finally arrived at Melanie's place, where it was lovely and warm, but it wasn't much verve left inside of me. I was glad not to be outside anymore, but that it was all. I didn't feel to be an interesting valuable person. No faith anymore. Melanie however was lovely. Such a warm welcome, just like coming to a place where you don't have to think about your acting and surely the right place for me. The most comfortable place for being so down.

Bud, Jimmy and Asterix

Friday, 9th of September. Someone had told me it would be worth it to visit the Aran Islands, so Carl called the ferry people in the morning if they would go to the islands and yes, they would go to Inisheer, the smallest and closest of the three islands. So I cycled the two kilometres up to the landing place and there I had to learn I better should have booked, they were full – but there was a little chance they could take me with them if I wait and maybe some people didn't come… In the end they picked me up, and I don't think they counted all the people.

I saw my first wild living dolphin! And how big he was! And all the people shouted "Aaah…!" and "Oooh…!". He seemed to be very used to the ferry traffic and swam around the ferry all the time when we were still close to the sea – they must have trained him somehow… The crossing was interesting. I was surprised the ship didn't tilt off, so much waves such wild sea– usually people go to amusements parks to feel like this. Once again I met nice people and hat nice chit-chat. One of them called me accidentally a tourist so I made sure that there's a difference between me and a tourist, although I was doing touristic stuff at the moment. Before entering the boat I had some silly experience, when a group of real tourists came to the ferry place, driven to this place in a small so called Safari bus, and when exiting one man shouted: "Adventure!" Adventure? Excuse me? What an adventure? Maybe an interesting nice trip, but what on earth is his definition of an adventure? In this sense I can be really arrogant to other people…

Inisheer is really small. I did the one half of this island in a horse cart. It was fun to experience the coachman. When I asked him what he offers he explained he would drive me around the island and explain everything, but what he does wasn't much about history or other typical sight seeing stuff, he just named everything we passed through – here's the school, this is a lovely playground, here I used to do fishing when I was a fisherman… But he was really lovely. He was constantly talking to his horse, called Bud, what is short for Budweiser, and he sang and hummed along traditional Irish songs all the time and also when he was talking it had a melody.

The other half of the island I did by foot. All this island is about stone walls, and these are maybe the main reason why to come to this place. But it's also somehow curious… The islands' geology is mainly karst limestone. So the Aran Islands are one of the finest examples of a Glacio-Karst landscape in the world. The other interesting thing is the wreckage of the MV Plassy, which was shipwrecked off Inisheer in the 1960s, but the islanders rescued the entire crew of eleven from the stricken vessel using a breeches buoy. Nevertheless all in all to come to this island wasn't better than most other places I had seen, but it was nice.

When crossing back I was so extremely tired and exhausted. This was very weird, because all this cycling all the time don't effect me, but walking for one or two hours… Maybe it was also the weather, the air, the crossing. On our way back I dozed. But I still wanted to go on cycling this day. It was 4:30 P.M. when I was back on my bike, and the weather had become really good! Bright sunshine, although somewhat sticky. But as I once again had no host for this night I could just cycle as long as I felt like it. And it was just great cycling, refreshing and new. After the first ten kilometres I met another cyclist, who stopped me and we talked from the first moment as we always had know each other. Jimmy is doing skateboarding for a living and when he wants to relax he does long distance cycling tours. I met him on his first day of touring, it was just a pity he cycled withershins. Jimmy is such a cute guy, I thought for a moment to take him with me for kissing and touching… We talked quite a while and hugged each other for goodbye. I would love to hear from him again.

Close to Derreen the R 477 was barred to traffic, a policeman made sure that no car passes, because in this area there is the film shooting of the new Asterix movie, but if you are a cyclist they let you pass. I don't like the life action adaptations of the Asterix comic books, but crossing the scenery was just great. First I passed the area were the staff is located, lots of signs guide to the catering, the place for the extras and so on, then lots of actors in their costumes passed me (one Norman acted like a Norman to me and shouted a very wild roar while looking very angry) and then I came to the shooting place, where I had to stop and be quiet, but had also some nice talk with some Romans and another French guy. And all were extremely friendly and invited me to stay, so I did for a while.

 

Limerick

Tuesday, 6th of September. This whole place Tarbert seems to go south. Lots of shops are closed but don't say anything about this fact. They look just like normal shops from outside. Most traffic comes from the crossing vehicles which are only passing through. I was still looking for an internet connection – no chance in this village, although there had been an internet café some time before (even some of the locals didn't know it was closed). The friendly woman in the pharmacy gave me the advise to go to Glin, because there in the library would be a internet computer for free, so I started to cycle six kilometres in the direction of Limerick – and what nice people I found there! This library is just lovely. A small old stone built house, and inside mainly just one open room, some books and games (probably less books as we have at our home, and definitely less games…) and two nice computers. The friendly librarian was so broad-minded to my needs and so interested in my touring and blogging, it was such a nice and warm atmosphere and it was fun to talk a while. Many thanks!

Meanwhile Kate and Dave had send their address data. When the library closed at 2 P.M. I started speed cycling up to Limerick – I had an average of 24,3 km/h from the moment I started cycling this day until I reached Limerick (nearly 60 kilometres). During the cycling I wondered why I felt so very warm, and then I realized the sun had shown up again! This day was still a mixture of clouds, rain and sun, but it's so exhilarant when its clear, warm and bright. And I even had following wind from time to time.

I arrived early at Kate's and Dave's home. Kate was doing her home made felt clothes and accessory. She is a freelancer and all around the house you can see lots of different pieces in varied designs. While she went on working, Dave showed me around the town – Limerick by night. As a real cyclist I tried to turn on my light, as we left the house… (whithout having a bycicle between my legs, I bent forward to activate the dynamo —does anyone remember The third policeman by Flan O'Brian?)

Dave knows a lot about history stuff, but for me the contemporary image of this town was much more interesting. I wasn't so sure about if it would be worth it to come to this place. Some people said it's uninteresting, others (non locals) liked it. The reputation of this town isn't so good (mainly caused by some trouble in the 80's). Now I'm glad about deciding to come to Limerick, because it's not so typical (or what I would call typical from my previous experience). Its character seems to be much more used and industrial. And inside of this some very old churches and castles…

Dave and I ended up in a nice pub (their local), where to my big surprise he ordered a German wheat beer. He definitely has to come to Bamberg and taste all our local wheat beers, which are so much better then all these industrial beers from the big companies. I went on trying new brands of stout. We had some good talk about profession, contentedness, self-fulfillment and the need for sabbaticals. We found some parallels between our relationships in the fact that one can give the other one the freedom to be creative without financial bounds. My head and my heart are still mulling over what I like or want to do or to be or don't like or want to do or to be… Moments of insight and scruple take turns.

I also spend one day resting. Doing some improvements on the bike, install the new light and so on. Because of some troubles with the electricity a very nice electrician was in Kate's and Dave's house who gave me some useful material to make the grips softer. All at all just nice and relaxing. Nevertheless it was once again 4 A.M. when I ended writing and working on the computer…

How to go on?

Monday, 5th of September. I spent a nice and exhilarant evening with Ciaran. He seemed to be full of energy (which acted steering at me), open and friendly and an interesting personality although he was very tired and busy at the same time. It's a pity we didn't had more time for talking and maybe do some outdoor activities together. But we had to say goodbye the next morning, and because the ferry to Skellig Michael Monastery didn't go (they said they would start to think about crossing the sea not before Friday and this day it was Monday) I went on cycling the coast on the Ring of Kerry.

It was still cloudy and misty but no rain for the first 17 kilometres, then regularly changes between misty rain, normal rain and no rain and all possible combinations of these types. Originally I had planed to cycle the Dingle peninsula, but with all this rain and mist where one is not able to see anything in some distance I cancelled this plan.

I generally wasn't so sure about where to go to this day and especially where to stay this night. At the moment it's difficult to find hosts, it happens often that I don't get a response, and it's not so easy to plan the stages, too. Some days before I had got an answer from my first unspecific request I had sent when I was still in Margate, so I had a general couch offer in Limerick, but Kate and Dave hadn't answered if they would be okay with my concrete time schedule and I also had no contact information. So I decided to cycle up to Tarbert, where from a ferry shorten the way up to the Cliffs of Moher. When being there I could still decide where to go to next.


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In Killorglin I found an Aldi supermarket but had to learn that the range of items differs a lot from what I knew from Germany, but I found a great black long sleeved compression sports underwear shirt, that now I'm wearing most of the time – it's unbelievable how warm and dry this peace of clothing is keeping me. In a 2 € shop I bought a nice little torch, and I also visited a friendly bicycle shop and bought new handle grips and some battery-driven lights. Once again I cycled a hill (the Slieve Mish Mountains – I really like it when the uphill I have cycled has a name…) without really noticing before reaching the top. I crossed Tralee and Listowel, it became dark, it was still or once again raining, it was cold, but I in my functional clothing and rain protection felt warm and comfortable. The wind was okay today, but I still have some respect for suddenly appearing squalls…

When arriving in Tarbert I first looked for the ferry – I had decided to cross the Shannon if still one would go this day, but it didn't, so I looked for a Bed & Breakfast and found an interesting so called Hotel/B&B which has ended up as a scruffy hostel, where I payed 15 € for the night and stayed with three other girls in a six bed room. When the hostel warden opened the door she first had a “What can I do for you?”-smile on her face which stopped immediately when she saw me within my wet clothes – then she hurried to bring me into the house and cared about drying my rain clothes (after three days of rain drying my clothes becomes a serious problem, but up to now I managed to have them dry enough).

Borderline experiences on the Ring of Kerry

Sunday, 4th of September. Today's stage started with bright sunshine. Close before Kenmare one can see this nice waterfalls, which are leastwise partly man-made, but nevertheless (or maybe therefore) very nice.

I had been in Kenmare the day before, too. After the Crossroad Music Session Dean, a friend of him and I had been there, visiting a music shop, where a very nice guy not only repaired the peg of my guitar, he also optimized my strings and the bridge – and all for free. He seemed to be a very impassioned musician and it was fun to see him working with an instrument. Many thanks to Soundz of Muzic!

I also was familiar with the first ten Ring of Kerry kilometres from yesterday's Crossroad Music Session (even though you can't compare a car ride with cycling…), but up to Tahilla I had no idea why everybody is saying one have to see the Ring of Kerry. But then it became very interesting, and when I first reached the open sea (if you can say so) again, it was just great force of nature – stormy, powerful breaker, and then big rain started (all together a very atmospherical composition, my compliments to nature). The rain was much intense but ended after about 15 minutes and the sun dried my clothes pretty fast. Forget whatever I've said about all weathers days in the past – this was before I was familiar with the Irish weather. During the stage from Oxford up to Mitcheldean surely there were all kinds of weather, but one after another and evenly spread about the whole day. In Ireland the weather can change within minutes. After the big rain and the sunshine I had misty rain with clouds, sunshine with rain, rain with calms, storm with sunshine… But in the end the weather decided to be cloudy, rainy and very stormy (but no photo can show).

From Saneem, which seems to be a very touristic place (much sightseeing buses were standing there and also much people were on the street despite the bad weather), up to Castlecove, where to have a break for some salted food I had decided, it was pretty exertive to cycle within all these intense rain and it also became quite hilly so I celebrated every completed half of the last five kilometres to motivate myself – it wasn't that much about being exhausted but you have to have faith within this landscape. The friendly woman at An Siopa Dubh had nothing warm to eat but she offered to prepare a sandwich for me, which also helped.

Sometimes the rain stopped for a while, sometimes I even recognized this, sometimes I didn't recognize the rain had started again. One can become very stoic. There was also constantly uphill what I didn't really noticed within all this wind and all this rain who pattered not only on me but into my face while I was doing my cycling routine. From Cathair Dónall up to the highest point of Ring of Kerry the storm was so extreme, especially when the winding road met the open coast side! It was really hard to keep the faith, all this storm attacks just felt like if someone tries to distress you, to put you down by pushing you around again and again. I wasn't so sure about how to act with this phenomenon. It's not a thing where one can say just stop fighting it – the storm doesn't care about it. Close to the highest point of Ring of Kerry it blew me from my bike – one heavy squall came and pushed me to the left, but I could stave off and by doing so or maybe doing a little bit to much the squall caught me again, this time to the other side, and knocked me and my bike over. I'm not really sure what happened, in the end my bike was laying on the side with its front in opponent direction and I was lying on my back. Nothing happened to me, I just hurried to put my bike and all my stuff that loosened from the bike away from the street. Fortunately there was no traffic at this moment, otherwise it would have been really dangerous. One car, which had passed me immediately before, had stopped in some distance, but when the driver saw I seemed to be okay he went on.


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After this I once was sitting next to the street and crying. You feel so helpless because it's nothing what's within your powers. I wasn't exhausted, you can't say I was unalert or did some other mistake (beside cycling within this weather), the storm was just so much more powerful than I. After a while I went on, pushing the bike carefully, and after the next turn not only I was outside the stormy area I also reached the top, and from now on I rolled downhill, but extremely carefully and totally aware of this life-threatening situation. Now my bike has some more scratches, the Ganesha clinger, whom I had tied on my handle bar extension, peeled away, but I found it on the street.

Down in Waterville maybe five kilometres later I had a break and found a nice hostel and also much nicer backpackers. I was full of energy and had some nice chit-chat, two hot chocolates with marshmallows (my first time), some chips for free because one guy attained them for unravel a mystery (he will study philosophy and mechanical engineering – I love this combination…). And then I went back outside to cycle, full of positive energy while all the others were so happy to be inside a warm, protected house. I just felt fine.

Waterville isn't that cosy as most of the other Irish towns and places I have seen so far, especially not on such a rainy and stormy day, but a real bleakly seaside town, affronting the elements. Meanwhile it went dark and I had some problems with my front light which works a little bit irregular (my back light seem to work not at all). Shortly after my speedo computer went mad by showing no speed or the wrong speed (and sometimes the right speed, but one can't trust). This is a thing what really frustrated and concerned me, it undercuts my inner balance. Surely the display of the completed kilometres is sometimes important for orientation, for example when you have to catch a side road in a special distance, but what concerned me much more was the fact that my cycling doesn't seem to count if it's not measured. It galls me that this effects me so much. (After a while my speedo computer seemed to be okay again, but I couldn't see that much, too.)

To find my tonight's host Ciaran I had to take a cross road one or two kilometres before Cahersiveen. But with more and more darkness surrounding it's not that easy to read the signs – once again I missed having a torch. So I was standing at one cross road and tried to read my map by using the crossing cars' headlight. When one car slowed down to turn off I signed them to stop so I could asked for some help and in the end the car driver offered me a lift. Today's stage had 80 kilometres.

Some amazing perceptions of nature

Friday, 2nd of September. It was 1:30 P.M. when I left the boat. Easy cycling like every day, good to be on the road again. While being on my way, a car passed, and outside the backmost window Marek smiled at and waved to me. Funny coincidence to see him again. Today's stage was planed with 75 kilometres and ended up with 105 kilometres, because I missed a sign in Ballydehob and didn't realize this until I asked someone in Schull (there's a kink on my map, so this Schull area was on the back side which I couldn't see because I had thought to be in the other side's area). But I didn't want to turn back, especially because I liked the place I was now and wanted to go on – who matter's about kilometres? In the end I was so glad I made a detour because it was such a great landscape, such a lovely road, just so nice and exhilarant. After 70 kilometres I had a short break in Bantry, and then the other great part of this day's journey began.

It had been cloudy the hole day with some sunshine from time to time, some wind – just nature. Then some drizzling rain started, but so misty – such thing doesn't feel like rain, it's just refreshing. If this is the famous Irish rain, then I love it. I decided not to dress more rain protection than my raincoat, which was generally a good idea, you definitely don't need rain pants – but I had to learn this day that anyway you need some protection for the shoes (and maybe another warm jacket)… Cycling the coast between Ballylickey and Glengarriff was just great outlook, all these colours and structure within the hazy environment – just great. Then the very hilly part of this day's stage started, as I cycled the Caha Mountains. I was on my own, nearly no passing cars, I wasn't able to see anything in some distance because of all this haze. And shortly after I also couldn't see that much because it went dark.

It went pretty cold, but with the misty rain outside, which had become heavier meanwhile, and the sweating inside I didn't want to stop and grub deep in one of my bags, I just tried to stay warm by going on with fast cycling. When the road finally got downhill, I cycled through an amazing tunnel, just a hole in the hill with all these surrounding mountain stones. And my bike light illuminated the scene. Fast downhill through the rainy night, I felt colder and colder, but finally I reached Dean's house, that wasn't easy to find in the darkness. There I had a bath, but it took some time until I felt some warmth inside of me again. But what an amazing day.

PS:
I had my first little accident today, if you can say so. I failed the asphalt road, so my wheel touched the ground next to the road, so I lost balance when trying to put something out of my little handle bar bag. But I had only 10 or 15 km/h, so nothing happened apart from my bike turned over and the handle bar was twisted (and I now have a bruise).

The amazing cyclist did a new record in long distance cycling!

Tuesday, 30th of August. I did a new record in long distance cycling: 167.5 kilometres – this maybe could be not only a long distance record for this tour but also in my cycling history, but I'm not sure about that. The first 50 kilometres I cycled the N 25 road up to Cork, not that much interesting because of the street's character, but I did extremely fast cycling! I had an average of 23.6 km/h (that's most likely also my personal record in general related to long(er) distance average). And even at the end of the day I still had an average of 19 km/h. I don't want to boast, but this is nearly unbelievable to me, too. Altogether it took me 8 hours and 45 minutes pure cycling.

I had a nice break in Cork, sitting in a pub, drinking some cappuccino and eating yesterday's roll while discovering a new favourite band – Fleet Foxes – by listening to their Album Helplessness Blues. And I had also a nice talk with two man sitting next to me who were interested in my cycling (one of them is a journalist, so maybe I become popular now…)

When leaving Cork I lost my way, bound to the N 25, which cost me 10 extra kilometres at all. And the periodic hooting of the car drivers on this motorway like three lane road doesn't made it better. (We disagreed about how much space I was allowed to take.) When I finally found the R 600 the first five kilometres were heavy uphill, so it took me 65 kilometres until the landscape was enjoyable. This also meant it went to be hilly and I had advertise winds – which curiously affected only me. The plants, bushes and trees held it was windless.

Nearly the whole day it was cloudy (and thereby cool), and it looks surely funny when nevertheless I am wearing sun glasses because of wind protection – "It's dark twilight… and we're wearing sunglasses". This day it constantly happened that I thought to be slow and automatically changed down, to use the smallest of the three front sprocket, but was still ten km/h to fast for doing so.

After 112 kilometres I had and definitely needed a long break and some salty, warm things to eat. This exhausted feeling came all of a sudden over me. I found Grainne's Bar in Timoleague, which was quite the right choice (even though there hasn't been an alternative since the last ten kilometres…). This pub had been the Award Winner of Best Irish Traditional Pub as the Dining Pub of the Year 2001, 2004 and 2005. And Grainne is a really nice woman.

Back on my bike the sun came out. From Clonakity I called Marek, my host for this night (and also the next days). A nice butcher lady lent me her mobile phone (she offered it by herself, when I asked for a public phone – it's really not easy to find public telephones, but there are so much lovely people in this world…). Then it became dark outside.

Among Clonakity and Skippereen I cycled through some very dark areas. No lamps, no civilization, just my little bike light. Dark road, much darker trees and bushes surrounding me on both sides, the idea of a blurred light blue far away over the horizon. I felt I was cycling uphill, and later that I was in some height, but had no orientation at all (so I was unable to see signs, too). Kind of borderline experience. Very intensive, especially when you stop and listen to the silence and look at the stars. – So much stars! So bright! It kind of frightened me to stand in this absolute darkness.

There were also cars who passed respectively came towards me from time to time – and about 50 percent of them didn't turn off their driving beam … But it was nice how the lights of the cars behind me made the street's cat sights (placed in the road) reflecting, so you could see how the road turns. Among Skippereen and Baltimore it was once again just dark, but had another character. Smaller road, more winding, close to the sea (which I couldn't really see but feel), also some cold from the bottom and ground fog, that one could only see when a car was passing. And once again this unbelievable starry sky. So bright I could see the milky way, and all the stars appeared in three dimension – and I could also see the lines between the stars which make the constellations.

When I reached the border of Baltimore (without noticing) someone called my name, and out of the dark Marek appeared, who has waited for me after coming back from a meeting. It was 10:30 P.M. Walking through the night on a small path up to the little scruffy boat where Marek is living at a few months ago together with Anne, who is staying at this place for years. Food, warmth, harbour.

Last stage and last night in Great Britain

Wednesday, 24th of August. I started in Llangadog with sunshine at 9 A.M., but this sunshine was just at Jane's place and resumed in the region I cycled yesterday, but in the direction I had to cycle now it was overclouded – big, dark and heaving clouds all over there. And you know you have no chance to escape from that…

First I crossed Llandeilo, a nice little town which is placed around a hill – it starts at the hill's bottom and it ends at the bottom on the other side of this hill. And I had the pleasure to cycle this twice, because I overlooked my route branched off immediate at the boundaries. Shortly after that I reached the rain. And what a rain. It rained cats and dogs. And it was extremely cold, too, so for the first time during my tour I needed an extra pullover. It rained really bad. Rain from above (as usual), rain from the side (especially when cars passed), rain from below (because the streets had turned into lakes). Occasionally I thought about hitchhiking, but otherwise this wasn't the best route to do so (once again good ole A40) and also there was no place to stay and ask some truckers. I cycled one hour through this extreme, intensive rain, then another half an hour just through usual rain. Close to Carmarthen the rain stopped and some shafts of sunlight showed up. And in Carmarthen I suddenly realized that I was no longer able to cycle with usual speed. I haven't noticed before this had been really exhausting.

So I had a break and my first fish and chips – and now I finally know, what this actually is. When I was young I imagined it as something like French fries with kind of fish fingers or fish nuggets, served in a paper cone (which is a practice I couldn't understand. In Belgium fries were originally served in a paper cone, but now this changes. Bart told me the paper cone thing was the best, because the grease can accumulate at the bottom). Later I didn't thought about it any more, so I never looked up. My fish and chips looked like these you can see in the photo, but were served on a plate together with different packed sauces.

Then cycling went on and the weather was okay now. The route wasn't as interesting as the day before and it wasn't that hilly, so much more cycling to reach today's goal, the coast. All in all I cycled 125 kilometres this day, and I made a new speed record: 64.5km/h. In the afternoon the weather became really sunny. I had a nice break at a quiet resting place, the lady in a take-away van had closed, but anyway she sold me a cappuccino, we had a nice chat about my tour, and she donated me a small pack of this delicious Welsh cakes. I had a really nice break while sitting in the sun and feeling good.

While approaching the coast I felt exited – so close to the sea, so close to Ireland. The last 20 or 30 kilometres it was once again very hilly – so once again the landscape became very interesting – and I looked forward to see the sea which maybe would appear behind every lift. And then it did.

Fishguard is great, lovely, a real seaside town. First I crossed the town to have a look at the ferry harbour and see how it works. Then I looked for a place to sleep and found a lovely old hotel, that was run by an older lady (Cartref Hotel). Very fair price and even a small water boiler next to a box including some tea bags plus sugar and milk packages in my room – I suppose other guests usually don't use them as much as I did… Later I tasted a Horlicks malt, what seems to be very popular especially in Wales as a night drink (I don't know why). I also went out to enjoy the coast, the town and the sundown and had a tasty Welsh stout and a nice little meal in a pub, where they gave me a wooden spoon so the waiter could find my table.

PS:
Meanwhile I have learned Cartref is Welsh and means home…

An all weathers day

Sunday, 21th of August. Yesterday I cycled 100 kilometres from Oxford up to Mitcheldean, that is close to Wales. It was an exhausting day, so today I stay for an extra day at my couchsurfing host's place, where a garden party will happen today. Deborah is preparing all the food while I am writing my blog on her computer (but I will also help her after writing…). It's just great here – great nature, great outlook, great garden and very great house with lots of personal design to discover.

I had an all weathers yesterday. It started with sunshine, so I was able to navigate by position of the sun (what I did also when I left London – and I did it pretty well!), then it went to be very cloudy and windy. I cycled A roads most of the day, which were really nice most of the time (mostly A40 road, then A436 when it splits up, and from Gloucester once again the A40 road. Then the very hilly part of that day's stage began when cycling the A4136 road).

Since I had left Oxford (and surely inside Oxford, too) in his area the people had (and of course still have) real stones at one's disposal to build houses. Therefore the main colour of the houses is a mixture of beige, ochre, grey and white. Very convenient. Once I cycled past a church with a sign in the front garden. While reading "an open meeting to discuss the future" I stopped, because it's a great idea and highly fascinating, to discuss the future (especially in a church). When reading the rest of the sign, it was only – but still – interesting, because it offers an insight into the actual proceedings.

I was in a bad mood during forenoon. Once again having no idea why am I doing this. Now it's kind of boring, just routine and somehow futile. Maybe this is normal change while doing long-run cycling. I didn't cycle more than two weeks without interruption before. But I also have a feeling of futile in general, about don't want to have any responsibilities at all and just doing nothing (especially no work). Then I think about quitting the tour. Otherwise I'm close to Ireland now, which is the main reason for this tour, and doing the French part of the tour will mean just going home. But I feel more and more depressed and desperate (close to cry while writing this). I am afraid about this, because I'm not able to classify.

It rained two times yesterday. But when I cycled the A4136 road the sun came out and also with the hilly landscape the route went to be much more challenging. This all together gave me a good feeling (good to know the surrounding can have such influence). When I claimed the main up-hill, the street stayed at this altitude while still doing some up and downs – and the outlook was just fantastic. And I had two great downhills with more than 60km/h (so now I have a new record with 62.4km/h). Then once again the rain came and at this time I was pretty exhausted. After five more kilometres I arrived at the lovely house of Deborah's.

It was a nice, relaxed evening. I tasted self made chocolate chilli ice-cream (the mild version), which was very interesting and the best chocolate ice I ever had. I went early to bed and slept quite long. Today it's a sunny day and I'm looking forward to see more of the surrounding area, to spend time with Deborah and meet new people at the garden party – once again I think it is good to have the guitar with me.

Deborah is very spirited, always laughing, she's – like me – so attached to little details to prettify the environment and to make the world a place where you can discover surprising, beautiful, interesting and special things all the time. It's good to be here.

PS:
I feel homesick and homeless and I really would need a long time hug and the possibility to cry while laying in ones arms.

PPS:
The garden party was very nice. Had some good talks and met much lovely people…

The beauty, the ugly and back to normal

Thursday, 11th of August. Leaving lovely Brugge while the sun is shining – I saw a swarm of doves just standing in the air and also flying backwards (caused through the heavy wind this day I think) – and cycling the first 25 kilometres along the very nice Kanaal Brugge-Oostende, which is mostly used by motor yachts. While I was cycling in direction north-west, the usual adverse wind caught me diagonal.

In Oostende I reached the sea. I love the sea. On the other hand the Belgium coast is pretty boring, but tries to stick up by being extremely stormy, Elise and Julien, my tonight's hosts, told me, the wind had 27–53 km/h, justifiably so you can say it was stormy (tomorrow it's probably better, it's said it will be 13–24 km/h). While I was still able to cycle around 20 km/h beneath the canal, I now had to slow down to 8 to 12 km/h, what I did for 20 kilometres from Oostende up to Westende (at the Albertkanaal it was 17 to 21 km/h). It was quite hard not to be blown away. At the end my face laced with grains of sand. The ugly houses, kind of high-riser with the charm of a building made with precast concrete slabs after all offered some wind protection.

I don't understand the Belgians. Like in Germany, too, they have places with caravans. In Germany there are many bowers within allotment garden, mostly placed at town border, often close to train tracks and also motor ways. But they are very green with much planting, a place for once own to relax. There are also places for static caravans, which are placed into the green, often into a recreation area. Usually nice places (if you are okay with the bourgeois middle-class character). But in Belgium they have places with static caravans, all of them same type, standing extremely close next to each other without any place for doing some personal arrangements. And they are usually placed beside the most highly frequented road. Why do they do this? Have they no sense for beauty and cosy settings?

The Belgian north looks shabby. It is reminiscent of Romania, where Klaus and I had been some years ago and also some parts in the North German Plain – uninteresting houses on a broken street with even worse bicycle paths. It turned to get better when I reached the Belgium/French frontier. Today's goal was Dunkerque, which I reached after 85 kilometres.

I had a warm welcome at Elise's and Julien's home. They are so friendly, relaxed and interested in a broad range. We had some dedicated talk about social and education system in France and Germany, including a side trip to politics, effective and useless development assistance in Third World Countries, being parents (I and their little one and a half year old son Simon immediately made friendship) and some more. They were so considerate, we had a great supper with an even better cake, Julien showed me the route to the harbour while moving the whole kilometres way on Google streetview… Elise and Julien, please come to visit me in Bamberg and make me able to be such a great host as you two are!