All in good time

Sunday, 2th of October. I went on my bike at 10 A.M. and because I had written down detailed route instructions for the first time I had no problems to leave the town and find my route. When cycling through lots of small villages it felt like a real Sunday – silent and peaceful. Downright lost. Everything seemed to sleep – except the dogs, to whom my appearance must have been a real experience, they barked for me for minutes and went on when they couldn't see me long ago. A cyclist seems to be a really important event in a dog's life. Once I passed a flee market, which was nice, lots of people were there, but nothing for sale I wanted to have – at least nothing which was small and light enough (and I also tried not to find anything too much interesting…).

The day was wonderful sunny. During the whole forenoon I met lots of other cyclists – sports cyclists, promenade cyclists, some of them disguised as professionals, strolling cyclists, most of them men but of all ages, so I was constantly greeting. In the afternoon the heat became unpleasant, especially because I was once again in open country where the reaped fields in brown and yellow enhanced the impression of wasteland. But I had learned from experience and was very careful with my resources, so I did a siesta from time to time when I found some shadow, and once I almost felt asleep. From time to time the landscape was somewhat hilly but normally comfortable. And before the heat became too frustrating I passed a nice forest, a fact that my map had told me, too, so I had been looking forward to this for a while.

When being in the Meuse department I passed lots of tiny villages, which were connected by little roads, sometimes just very small asphalt paths which were nevertheless shown on my map. It was a real pleasure to cycle through this landscape. By going on like this I didn't recognize how time went by. I had watched out for a café or restaurant for a while, but this wasn't easy on this sleepy Sunday. In Triaucout-en-Argonne I finally found a little bistro, where I ate a big roll in company of a group of older corpulent men and women, who were in an extremely good mood and were joking and laughing all the time. I couldn't understand nothing, but it were ribald topics for sure. And the laughing was infectious.

Back on my bike the shadows had become very long. Sundown was really peaceful, good place to be. But surely it ended up with night cycling. When I arrived in Sommedieue it was dark and meanwhile I felt fairly exhausted. My route guided me into a thick forest, so the darkness became much more intense. And of course it went uphill – and the good thing was that I couldn't see how high angle the uphill was and how long it would least. To me it was just being in my smallest gears and do the pedal routine. The darkness was somehow frightening. My light made just a small spot in some distance and some noise came out of the forest. And it went on like this for quite a long time. At some point I began to believe that this path would never end and felt like being part of Friedrich Dürrenmatt's short story The Tunnel. When looking at the map later it had only been for ten kilometres, but ten kilometres in a dark forest with no time or speedo by constant uphill can become very long… I reached the little village Mesnil-sous-les-Côtes, home of my couchsurfing host Ben, after 145 kilometres at 10 P.M.

The Greenway in Manche

Monday, 26th of September. I would have loved to stay longer with Olivier and his family, but one shouldn't outstay one's welcome, so the next morning after a restorative breakfast Olivier drove me back to the café where we first met and I went on cycling. In Ducey I visited the tourist information to ask for cyclist's maps, and the woman in the office was exhilarated to help me, because in this area they had a greenway, a re-used railway track which leads through the green nature without any traffic. And while I still had some doubt because this would lengthen my stage even more, the woman exert herself to convince me – it would be easy cycling, because it's really flat and so nice… and she was right. Olivier had warned me, that the route up to Caen would be very hilly, so it was surely the right decision to take the greenway. It was just nice and relaxing cycling. I was also glad to have such a fine map. The landscape wasn't somehow special but very familiar from lots of tours I did in Germany. It was nice to have this train history background, and there were also some very nice outlooks. But mostly I liked the old train station houses. The only challenge were the uncountable conkers and bell-ends, which were laying spaced all over the ground, but this wasn't a problem at all.

After 75 kilometres close to Vire the greenway came to its end, so the remaining 60 kilometres became hilly, but it was still nice cycling. Surely it became late, surely it was night cycling. When I neared Caen there were lots of toads on the road trying to pass. I tried not to kill them, so I had to cycle wiggly lines, but I assume the chances for the toads weren't so good – actually there were more flat pads on the street then toads alive… Don't they have any tunnels for the toads in France?

It was great to see the city lights of Caen in the night! But I was also exhausted. Once again it had been nearly 150 kilometres – I think I'm a little bit crazy, and maybe it's no wonder that I arrive so late every day… This day it was 10 P.M. Coming to Antoine's place was a good thing. He's so nice, friendly and tolerant. Even if he's actually a couchsurfing newbie he acts like a natural born couchsurfer. He lives with two others together, Amin and Marine, and there was also another couchsurfer, Tino, who was on a motorcycle tour for some month and had arrived today, too, it was fun to join this community. It was also a pleasure to meet Tino. He's very relaxed, uncomplicated and positive. It was fun to talk in German and to compare our experiences when being on long distance touring and doing couchsurfing most of the time. I taught him how to juggle, and he was such a fast learner! Maybe it helps if you are a drummer…

From Saint-Brieuc up to Pontorson

Saturday, 24th of September. Now my speedo is totally broken, but unexpectedly this didn't effect me… Now I count my kilometres by reconstruct my tour on Google maps, and I don't care about the exact number – after 3000 kilometres likely it doesn't really matter, and I'm also okay with not knowing how much kilometres I still have to do.

It took me two hours to leave Saint-Brieuc and really find my route… It was around 2 P.M. (and probably around 15 kilometres) when I was able to start straight cycling. But on my way I saw interesting thinks like this rodeo machine…

Once again hilly cycling, sunny cycling – I was sweating all the time! Still nice, still exhausting. Once when I stopped to ask for refilling my water bottles a very nice woman invited me for a coffee. She was able to speak German and glad to have the chance to practice.

Once again I had problems to find my route when passing a town. In Dinan it was not only that the D 794 road I had followed up to the town and wanted to follow also when leaving the town wasn't signed anymore, it's general this bad signing: The signs placed on the exits of a roundabout for example are only readable if you are within the roundabout. It was also much traffic this day, that means stop and go, caused by a marathon that happened this day.

Also once again it became very late till I arrived at the end of today's stage after 125 kilometres. I had some hours of night cycling, and this feels also very familiar, because it's not so cold at all after sundown, but sometimes the air is very cold, just for some dozen metres. It was close to 10 P.M. when I finally arrived in Pontorson and also found the youth hostel – but no one of the staff was there anymore, they had closed the reception at 8:30… Some of the guests opened the door for me, and one of them offered me a place in the room where he and his friends where in, because there were still some beds free. But I would have to stand up together with them at 5 A.M. because they wanted to visit Mont Saint-Michel and didn't want me to stay alone in the room. When we had some more talk later they invited me to join them, and I was glad to be able to do so, because some people on my tour had told me about it, but I hadn't realize I was so close, just ten kilometres away. But for the moment I was just exhausted and after a short shower I felt asleep.

France

Friday, 23th of September. Good sleep, good morning, still amazing, full of new energy and curious for the new day… When arriving in France at Roscoff harbour it was bright sunshine – so warm, I didn't needed my long sleeved shirt, I needed my sunglasses and suncream! During the last weeks I sometimes had thought I was maybe to late with my tour, so cycling time was over, but here in France it was just best late summer. Switching back to the right side of the street wasn't a problem, it's just the other routine, and now I can do both… Everything felt so much more like home,the landscape, the weather – I can't really explain.

But what's a real problem in France is the signing. If there's a system (and I don't think so) I don't get it. It's not that they give you some orientation by naming the next bigger cities or villages. When you leave the direct, big ways, which usually leads into motorways, they just name the next village, but sometimes they stop before arriving and name some other village close to where you are… Usually they say nothing about the distances. And what makes it more worse is that my map is also not good, wrong map scale, justified for car drivers, but it was the best I could get on the ferry. It doesn't tell anything about the smaller villages, so I can't make a connection between signs and map. And I also had to learn that the people who made my map had their own understanding of which roads are important to show, they don't orientated themselves on types of streets, so sometimes the route I follow end on my map but goes on in reality.

I needed some time to figure out these things, had to make some detours and also had to learn that most French people don't speak English or another foreign language. So I ask them in English the others answer in French and then I do what they have told me respective they do what I have asked them – it's surprising this works! But nevertheless I feel a little bit lost and much more thrown back on my own resources. Every time I cross a bigger village or town it's really difficult to find back my route, they stop signing and naming the roads name/number! So all this takes lots of time… Morlaix for example is a really worth seeing town, but without the help of a local I would have lost my way…

France is hilly. Acceptable hilly, but hilly, so cycling is demanding. Here in France within this fantastic weather I really become aware that I do challenging sports all the time. I didn't felt so when I was in Ireland. There it was just fighting with nature powers. Here I'm only fighting with myself. Cycling the small roads is just great. Less traffic, familiar landscape, very relaxed, all this remembers me a lot of all the one or two day tours I did with Klaus. This whole France experience is just godsend.

But as one can imagine, the cycling took lots of time and it was also a long distance – in the end I had cycled 140 kilometres when I reached the city limit of Saint-Brieuc. It was night cycling for the last hour. I stopped a car to ask for the directions to my host's place, and instead of giving directions, the kind young woman told me to follow her – she guided me with her car until I was at my goal. It wasn't that far, but once again I couldn't believe how friendly and helpful people act to me!

Then I met Sylvain, my couchsurfing host for this night, and it was such a nice welcome. After taking a shower I felt so relaxed, so awake, so positive… It was fun to talk with him. Sylvain was just lovely, so cute, very committed in giving me a good time and also so sweet in being a newbie, as I had the pleasure to be his first couchsurfer. I was curious about the differences between the couchsurfing groups vegetarians and gay vegetarians – he's a member of both. Maybe one can imagine what my pervert fantasy imagined… I would have loved to stay longer and spend much more time together as he is very easy going, curious and positive, but I had to go on my bike and he had to learn for an exam. Really hope to meet him again…

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.

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.

Finally Ireland…!

Thursday, 25th of August. This ferry from Fishguard Harbour railway station up to Rosslare Harbour was right how a ferry should be. Quite small (compared to my other ferry experience downright tiny). Many travelling pedestrians. The car deck looked much more like a small parking garage with nooks and crannies, not available for trucks (this Stena ferry goes three times a day up to Ireland, I took the express line, I suppose the slower lines are for trucks, too, as I saw some trucks waiting in the harbour yesterday). It's so much better than the last ferry! The ferry's windows are made to afford a good outlook, you are really on a boat, not within one of these synthetic autonomous universes on its own. Most space is used to offer different areas to sit and chat. And… you are able to go outside!

It was an extreme and intense up and down on this ferry, although the staff said it's quite normal. Nevertheless all of us passengers had very funny walks and you could hear some laughs about this and the rocking ship at all – maybe this amusement was also caused by lots of alcohol… – "[Pirates] drink lots of rum and after that they stagger and when the ship is rocking as well it evens out…". Other people appeared to be sea sick, sometimes I wasn't so sure about me, too, but I did it well already.

I really like this ferry company which seems to care a lot about their passengers and they cared perfectly about the bikes, too (there was one more bicyclist at the ferry who started in London and will now cycle through Ireland for two weeks), it just felt like great service.

Even the crossing was cheaper as I had thought from looking at the internet – quite the contrary to the other company DFDS Seaways, who charged my nearly double price. They reasoned this because of no online booking. (Okay, by total numbers it's not such a big difference: 39€ instead of 21.50€ for me and my bike to do the 63 kilometres from Dunkerque up to Dover in two hours, and 34€ – or 28£ – instead of 38€ for the 106 kilometres from Fishguard up to Rosslare, also in two hours.) I bought a nice traveller's map in the ferry's shop about Ireland which had a fair price (and so I was able to get rid of my last English money). This meant I didn't had to think about this anymore and was able to know how to navigate from the first moment in Ireland.

When we reached the harbour I first thought: oh, we already arrived (it was such a quick crossing), not till then I thought: Now I am in Ireland! I had a stop at the harbour to correct my luggage, when a guy come up to me, asking about my tour, and then he offered me a bed for the night in Curraglass because he did much hitch hiking in the past and was familiar with the needs a traveller has. I already have a host in this area so I had no usage, but I had a nice talk with Matt and his girlfriend Kylie who I met, too, and I invited them to join my blog and to stay with Klaus and me in Bamberg if they ever come to Germany again. I would be glad to hear about them again. Thanks for the great welcome in Ireland!

Even the way how Ireland received me was so much nicer in comparison to England who even didn't received me. But in Ireland there wasn't this heavy traffic at the harbour, instead of that there were likeable signs who remembered anyone about the left-hand driving in three languages (English, French and German). From the first moment I was so enthusiastic and thrilled about being in Ireland. I cycled the 75 kilometres up to my this day's host Mark and his wife Patti within four hours, just flew through this great landscape and felt happy. Small roads with nearly no traffic – my main image of Ireland is about freedom. I'm so glad to be here.

PS:
When I had to pee I used a place behind some bushes – and was amazed when I revolved to see this herd of young cows who were so curious about me that they all had come to the gate. I love cows for being so interested and observant. When I started cycling again, they followed me doing gallop as long as possible. Cows like to play and are anything but dull.

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…

I ♥ Wales

Monday, 22th of August. 130 kilometres of great cycling, great unbelievable landscape – I love Wales. The nature, the smell of all this green, the structure, the hills… I think it's the best one can do if one wants to cycle through Ireland to cross Wales first. Just the language is weird, I mean the signs and all these names. I have no idea how they can be spelled, maybe if you have a laryngitis… (to proof my theory, doesn't even this word looks like a Welsh word?). All of a sudden I didn't understand nothing, but fortunately most of the signs and names are bilingual.

It was good to rest at Deborah's place yesterday. It was a really nice garden party with interesting and interested people, all of them so curious to learn more about my tour, the backgrounds of my tour and my life story at all. I think (felt) some of them really liked me, I felt very welcome. It's a good thing to be hugged or patted. During this party I became a chocolate-chilli ice-cream addict but was also able to get over it (it's just a question of how long and how much, and the latest version of the ice cream was definitely too mild – I can't believe I am saying this, but only chocolate without chilli isn't enough).

Today (now it's 2:30 A.M. but I haven't slept, therefore the new day hasn't started…) I was on the road before 10 A.M., still within Forest of Dean (A4136) which means still hilly. I made a 11% uphill (even though I needed one or another rest). I had some problems with my lungs, maybe because of the weather. The hole day it was bright sunshine, best weather for cycling. From Monmouth up to Abergavenny I cycled the B4233 – what a lovely, beautiful little road, nearly an asphaltic path. Very hilly, very green. It even smelled extremely green. You know about the beautiful outlook, but not often you are able to see it, because the road path is lined with high hedge and bushes, all of them so bulky. The good thing when you cycle such a hilly road where only every five or ten minutes a car passes you are able to cycle switchback.

Up from Abergavenny I cycled the A40. I cycled lots of hills! Not only constantly ups and downs but really uphill, so you can feel the height, the wide, the wideness, which is so great to see. Such an interesting landscape… I think I can say I cycled mountains! And it was easy cycling! Definitely a good day. I met two racing cyclists while cycling, Dave and Tom, and had some nice chit-chat, did some slipstreaming (it doesn't really help when the route is just hilly, but I was motivated to do some fast cycling for a while). I saw army men who jogged uphill while carrying a big rucksack. I go on seeing lovely old VW buses. Car drivers still greet me with their hooter, too (and even other cyclists greet). I saw a scooter who surely had some Harley Davidson relatives, as he had loads of extra mirrors on both sides of the front. Never before I have seen so many sheep. And the last ten kilometres up to Llandovery it was all slight downhill, so I was able to do easy cycling with 24 up to 36 km/h.

In Llandovery I had to learn, that my host's place isn't there but in the next village Llangadog, but who cares about another ten kilometres? When I arrived at 7:30 P.M. Jane wasn't at home (she had told me this could happen). But her neighbour David cared for me, first he brought me a hot chocolate while I was sitting at the stairs of Jane's front door, half an hour later he invited me into his flat, Jane later said this was an honour, normally nearly nobody is allowed to come into his place. But we just had a nice chat, another hot chocolate and actually he offered me his couch in case Jane wouldn't come back home, but she did at 9 P.M. I will stay here for another day, so Jane and I can spend some time together.

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…

Up to London in just one day

Monday, 15h of August. Still no aching muscles, but I am pretty battered, as yesterday I cycled the whole distance Margate–London (Camden) all at once. Here is closest what Google maps is able to show about my route:


View Larger Map

Originally I planed this distance in two stages, but I lost my host in Gravesend, therefore I cycled through. From Margate to Herne Bay I cycled the lovely coast (hard to find a route as many paths used to end suddenly), then I tried the A2 for 10 kilometres, what started as a nice road (like German Landstrasse) and later changed its character into a motor road) , so I tried to find a route close to the sea, signposted (big problem, because signing was bad), and not being the A2 (most signs try to lead you back to A2). I started in Margate at 12 o'clock, reached London at 0 o'clock, but needed nearly 2 hours to find my route up to Camden and at least got help from my host Dagnis, who leaded me from Camden High Street up to his place.

All at all 150 kilometres – and the whole day constantly up and down – nobody had told me, that this area is so hilly! Because it was Sunday and I still wasn't able to change money or to find a bank and my fruit inventories were used up, I took al lot of sultanas from Allan's kitchen and found fortunately some apple trees during the cycling. I started cycling in a bad mood, thin-skinned and somehow depressed, hit shape rock bottom at 5 P.M., was no longer sure about why am I doing this – wherefore? Thought about going back home immediately because of losing sense and structure. Cycled extremely slow (my bike computer says, I still had an average of 15 km/h. Maybe it wasn't that bad as it felt) and cycled for 12 hours and 15 minutes this day.

Then I arrived at Dagnis' and Dagmara's home. And what a welcome. Dagnis had waited for me, even both had to go to work early the next day, actually Dagmara got up the bed, and both warmed up a delicious soup and prepared a slice of bread. So lovely! So unbelievable kind and helpful and generous! Surely, I was completely exhausted but still able to help myself, but the built me up with food and warmth. Thank you so much.