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The weather and ambience today are perhaps the best of this trip. I might have had slightly warmer temperatures when I was in Galway, but that was a city and today we have mountains, cliffs, islands, valleys - everything that Ireland has to offer in one full
day. It is so wonderful that we bike and bike and are in no hurry to return to Dingle - and we don't return until 7:30 p.m. Our 33 miles are some of the very best miles of the trip. We begin our bike day around 10:30 a.m. as we begin the long ascent up Conor Pass. We are climbing to the highest pass in Ireland, 1,500 feet, and we have six and a half miles to get up there. It is not so difficult because we stop about every mile or so to take pictures. The views are wonderful, and I love the different perspectives of Dingle Town. Conor Pass gives us great views of the Dingle Peninsula in all directions. We can see Dingle Bay, the Blasket Islands, and the ocean on the south and north side of the peninsula. We have 360° of great views. The wind is quite strong, as it usually is in the passes, but not as strong as the VEE pass and
certainly the weather is much better. We start hiking up Brandon Mountain until my right biking shoe falls apart - the whole top piece comes out of the sole, and my toes are sticking out; these miserable shoes at least have the decency to give it up at the end of my trip. I use my tire-changing tool to get the toe of
the shoe back on the sole and it gets me by for the rest of the day - and I'm sure I can get one more day out of them. Mike walks to the top of the mountain, about 3,000 feet, and I walk back to do shoe repairs. By the time we leave the pass, the wind is so strong that slender young women are being blown about like
newspapers. Surprisingly the wind doesn't buffet the bikes badly as we brake our way to the bottom. At 22 mph we are back in town quite quickly. At one point I just pass by before a flock of sheep is about to cross the road from one pasture to another. The farmer's Collie is very authoritative with his barking. The sheep dogs in Ireland are wonderful; they do their work well and happily it seems. And in all my biking in Ireland, I've only been chased once by a dog, half-heartedly at that, and it was a mutt not a Collie. The Collies will bark on occasion, but they don't seem to chase, and they are never mean. We have lunch. Mike wants some stew, some authentic Irish lamb stew, which we find at a busy little restaurant in Dingle Town. We reserve a B+B for Tralee on Saturday night and bike out to Galarus Oratory. The Oratory is a study in stone craft. This 7th
century structure is remarkable in its construction. Shaped like an upside down boat, it is built of mortar-less flat rock, including a roof that is designed to shed water. Here a fellow is earning some coin by singing to the tourists. His very sleepy Collies lay nearby, and he sings "I'll Take you Home Again,
Kathleen" at my request. This melancholy tune has become my theme song; it reminds me hauntingly of Marcia. I'm reminded of the singer in Waterford who sang it for me, and especially I'm reminded of the old gentleman in that Waterford pub who openly wept upon hearing the tune. My cousin nudged me when he saw him, and we were both stunned and speechless by this man's heartfelt display of emotion. The song and the old man's reaction brought tears to my eyes. My yearning for Marcia is nearly excruciating. The weather is balmy. We stop at a little pub and bring our beer outside in the sun. It is 6:00 p.m. and we are about 10 miles from home, but still we are in no hurry. The setting on a bay in this remarkably quiet village encourages a sort of listlessness. The air is so fresh and soft that one wants to absorb it through mouth, nose, pores, all the senses. We stop at a couple of ancient stone forts and begin our long ascent to a modest pass that then drops us into Dingle after a 3 mile cruise. We shower, change clothes, and eat at the Windowpane restaurant where the waiter, Stephen, plays Coltrane, Davis, et. al. for us. We have a fine meal, listen to music at Murphy's where we again run into Chris and Betty from Baton Rouge, and mosey home to the
B+B. (1007 miles) |
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