The Wandering Nanny: 04/01/2006

Ireland Photo Album

Here is the link to my photo album!

Biking Day 1

(not from my journal)

I got Emily situated in the hostel and then I finally left the bike shop around 1ish. I was really worried I was starting out too late. So I was all confident as I made my way through the streets of Dublin and out to the highway. I was supposed to be on the N6; unfortunately, I ended up on the N7 and didn’t figure this out until I had gone well over 8 miles. It was so scary. The N7 is six lanes wide with a lane on the outside for Bikes and Buses. I did not like being put together with huge commuter buses. I prayed… a lot.

I finally pulled over and asked directions at a B&B. The woman had no idea where I wanted to get to (mainly because I could not pronounce one of the town names correctly), so she went upstairs to ask another woman. That woman instructed me to follow the N7 just a little bit further. So I took her directions and headed back out on the N7, until I realized that the “little bit further” part was actually a part of the highway that bikes are not allowed on. The honking Mac trucks and speeding cars quickly made me aware of this fact. So I turned around, now going in the opposite direction with even more cars beeping and then ran for my life across the highway pushing my bike in front of me. I made it to median, took a deep breath and ran across the other side of the highway. Needless to say, I peddled quite quickly back to safety of the small town I had just left and ended up asking directions from a cabbie. He spent 10 minutes trying to figure out a way for me to get back on course without killing myself, and I finally asked him if he could just drive me to a good starting point. He was nice enough to go along with it and we had an interesting talk on the 30-minute drive over to where I should have been. So after that it was smooth sailing….oh wait. Wrong day. No, I was definitely lost for the rest of the day because Ireland does not have street signs. NONE! No names whatsoever. Just signs pointing to the next town. It took me at least a few days and about 20 wrong way kilometers to master the art of navigating around Ireland.

Biking Day 3

(from my journal)

Today I had a great breakfast with a family (British grandmom, her son, his 2^nd wife, his daughter, and the daughter’s husband) crazy linkage. They made me feel right at home, well even though it was none of our homes. I washed my clothes the night before and they weren’t dry so Chris (The B&B owner) took them over to the neighbor’s house to use her dryer. Chris then helped me figure out a better route for the next three days. Athlone it turns out is a cool large town with a big castle. It will be a great place to spend St. Patrick’s Day! After I left Chris’s house, it took only one minute on the bike before I realized the gears weren’t changing…at all. I looked in my bike guidebook to see if what to do, borrowed a screwdriver from a telephone repairman across the street, and fixed it! It’s such a simple thing, but it is a perfect example of why I like to travel alone. Because you have to rely on yourself (and God -> see day 1) and as a result, you realize how capable you really are.

Some random observations of Ireland:

-People like to lay concrete all around the house, all the way to the edge of the house. No bushes.

-The houses always seem to be painted DRAB colors. No exaggeration there.

-There are a lot of baby animals, especially lambs.

-People still use the hundreds year old stone fences to keep their animals in.

-Drivers most often give a nod when passing me. Sometimes they just life a finger from the steering wheel. Always one of the two, sometimes both.

-The Irish use peat, which comes from the bogs instead of coal. I read that it makes less smoke than coal. They’ve used up a lot of the bogs says Chris, so they are trying to conserve them. I read they are also making artificial ones.

-The people in the small villages don’t stare at me as much if I put my green corduroy pants over my black spandex. I also took the visor off my helmet. Both helped. People still stare at my “shock yellow windbreaker.”

-The animals are always covered in mud. I feel bad and want to give them a bath.

-Chris gave us Baileys for our porridge and it was awesome!

-The dogs like to follow/chase me down the road. This has happened at least 5 or 6 times.

-The sheep “baaa” when I say hi. Seriously.

Biking Day 2

(from my journal)

This was the long day. But I didn’t wake for breakfast until 10:15 because there were no outside windows in my room to wake me up. I had a traditional Irish breakfast in a very cute old kitchen, made by a very cute old woman. I talked with the woman who owned the B&B about her life, and she told me a little bit about Ireland and the hard times it has been through. She told me how people used to leave the country to find work but now there is enough here in Ireland that most of the young people stay. I noticed this in the housing industry. Outside of almost every town a housing development is going up.

When I started out, this being my second day, my butt was so sore I didn’t know if I could continue. I stopped in the town bike shop (a rarity) and the man said that people used to put seat covers on, and held up an example of a plaid ¼-inch thick piece of padding. He said now people just buy better saddles. That’s what I should have done, or a gotten a better one from Cycleways (the bike shop in Dublin). I started off but realized I left my booties (waterproof shoe covers) back at the B&B and had to return.

The whole day was beautiful and not too cold. But then I reached the Slieve Bloom Mountains. By that time I had traveled 60 km and I had no energy left so I pushed my bike for 8 km up to the top of the mountains. On my way down the mountains it was getting dark so I turned on my lights and was extremely thankful for my “shock yellow” windbreaker that I have been so embarrassed off. An older couple stopped their car to ask me “How long to civilization?” Once they discovered I was biking solo the older woman remarked, “My you are brave!” I replied in all scared truthfulness, as one can only feel alone on the top of a fog-covered mountain at dusk, “I’m feeling it.”

Well, I made it down to the Ardmore House B&B. It is a beautiful early 19^th century home, with six bedrooms and vaulted ceilings. Once again, (as at every B&B) I wish I had a camera when Chris came to the door and saw my, how do I describe it, wind beaten soul.

Biking Day 4

(from my journal)

In Birr I saw a castle! My first castle! The public can’t go in though because a family lives there, the original family. It is one of only 12 castles in which a family still lives. The rest have been left vacant or turned into hotels. The man at the desk told me all of this, and that Northern Ireland has a National Trust which people can donate their castles to. Even then, they have to give a large sum of money for the maintaince and so as a result, many of the castles are just left empty and decaying.

After Birr Castle, I continued riding and went through the cute village of Banagher by the River Shannon. I missed my turnoff but a nice Irish man helped me find my way and even offered to drive me. I felt bad though because I kept asking him to repeat himself because I couldn’t understand his accent. After I left Banagher, there was a really bad snowstorm with strong sideways wind that left me wind burned. It even sleeted and that along with the sideways wind made it almost impossible to ride. When I finally got to Clonmacnoise (my final destination), I went down, saw the ruins at sunset, and took some beautiful pictures.

That night I stayed at the Kajon House B&B just outside of Clonmacnoise. John and Kate Brennan run it and they were soooo sweet and welcoming. I wish though that I had a camera each time I arrive unexpected at a B&B after a long day outside. They don’t know what to make of me. This was the case with John and he said that he would give me time to clean up before having a cup of tea. Haha, they always say that. Why don’t you “clean up”. I must look pretty bad! Well I know when I arrived at his door I had grease on my face from fixing my bicycle, and my face was horribly wind burned. Anyways, it turns out John used to own restaurants in Dublin and is an excellent chef. He made me an amazing dinner!

Biking Day 5

(from my journal)

So I’m in an Italian Restaurant in Athlone at a table for one. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but when I walked in, table by table everyone glanced at me. The waitress had to get special approval and instructions on what to do about a table of one. Finally, she pulled two tables apart and sat me at one of them.

(not from my journal anymore. Unfortunately, it was here that I stopped writing)

That morning, after an amazing breakfast by John, I rode down a few kilometers to Clonmacnoise. John told me about the back way to go so I didn’t have to pay haha. I took my bike around bike and entered through an old gate in a large stonewall. At first, all I could see was an old cemetery, but it was one of the most beautiful cemeteries I have seen, and I know people don't usually think of them that way. I followed the dirt path up to the ruins and found myself alone among 1500-year-old buildings and an all white graveyard from the 12^th century set right next to a large lake. Some fisherman kept staring at me from down on the shore, and I think I know why (the shock yellow jacket again). The ruins were so beautiful in the mist and I felt like I had been transported to some mystic place in time. I really didn’t want to leave but I wanted to make sure that I allowed enough time to get to Athlone for the St. Patrick’s Day parade.

Fortunately, I only had to ride 25 km, compared to my usual 80. As a result, I got into town early and I was able to check in to my B&B (which I finally called ahead to) and get out and see the Athlone parade. I found out later that my two cousins from Mullingar were in the parade and I had seen them but didn’t know who they were at the time. After the Parade, I took a long nap and then went to the Italian Restaurant that I talked about above. Next, I decided to be brave and venture out alone to the bar down the street where my B&B hosts said it would be all kids my age. It certainly was, however these were the best-dressed kids with amazing Irish features. Then there was me in my unwashed black fleece, and worn green corduroys. Wow, it took everything in me (and 2 pints of Guinness) to keep me there. I finally got talking to a nice guy named Nigel and hung out with him and his friends the rest of the night. So overall, it was a fun St. Patrick’s Day.

Biking Day 6

This was one of the hardest days of my entire bike ride because the wind was blowing straight back at me. Because of this wind, it was near impossible to get up the hills and extremely hard to even get down them. This day was more of a psychological test than physical. It was all about not giving up. It helps when you have no choice but to go further (there was nowhere to stop even if I wanted to) and I had to get to Mullingar to meet up with my family.

I called May McCourt, my grandmothers cousin, when I was 10km outside of Athlone. I told her I would be quite a bit later than I expected. She inferred from my tone of voice how tired I was and so she got in her car and came looking for me. She then called her husband to tell him to come looking for me and he in turn called his daughter and her family (it was not a hard task to spot me, as I was the only 20-year-old female on a bike filled with packs and wearing a shock yellow windbreaker.) I was so relieved though when I came up the hill to the edge of town and saw Kevin waving to me (again, not hard to spot him either as he is a cute old British man with a thick head of gray hair). The search party was called off and they took me back to their house for a nice cup of tea and a warm shower.

Later Kevin and May took me out to dinner with the family. It was so nice to finally be with a nice family after traveling alone for a week. After dinner, my cousin Niall took me over to the pub across the street to meet up with two other cousins, Laura, 21, and Phillip, 18. They were celebrating with their other friends from the town band. When I say town band, everyone always thinks rock band. But no, it was a town marching band and this is actually really popular in Ireland. Go figure. Well, we had a great time and ended up going to a club at the end of the night. When it was time to go, the last song the DJ played was an Irish jig. It was great because everyone just starting hoping up and down and they all made it look so natural?!