DAY 13 - Wednesday / Newtown Cove Caravan Park, Tramore, County Waterford - Cobh, County Cork - Blarney Caravan Park, Blarney, Cork / 95 miles

30/07/2014 / Wednesday /  Newtown Cove Caravan Park, Tramore, County Waterford - Cobh, County Cork - Blarney Caravan Park, Blarney, Cork / 95 miles

The following morning everyone's up and ready by 9:45 am, and surprisingly without a single hangover between us.

Fig. 1 - A small Harbour we pass following the coast on the R675.

Fig 2. - A small bay, again from the R675 coastal road.

We again decide to split up, for the day, both roughly taking the same route. The day is bright and sunny, as we follow the, R675, a windy narrow coastal road, stopping to take in views out over the cliffs, harbours and small bays along the way. At one point, we ride along-side a mile of wild bramble bushes, stocked full of plump ripe fruit. I stop to sample a few, wishing I had a container to take some back with us, for the evening. Much to my surprise, Alex didn’t know what they were at first, besides the fact that you can eat them. Not knowing basic wild fruits, is a little alien to me. Whilst growing up in Scotland, my farther, would take me on walkabouts, around forests near to where we lived, for mushrooms and wild berries. Including elderberries, raspberries, brambles, and damsons to use to make wine, jam and bake fruit tarts, freezing a few bags for a similar future use.

Fig. 3 - 'The Vee', on the E30.

Fig. 4 - The amazing view, we enjoy from our vantage point, shortly before
following the road through this chicane and down to the valley bottom.

Then using the narrow roads, we cut North, inland to pick up the E30, to ride 'The Vee', which opens up from a mountain into a vast open valley, of a rich patchwork quilt of fields and trees, with shadows of clouds racing over them. We stop and try to capture the place in digital format. Whilst we stop and stare, a car full of Irish Police (Garda), pulls into the layby, also stopping for the view. Before we set off again, we wait a while after they leave, so we can enjoy the twisty road, leading down into the valley. We need not off bothered, as they had also the same idea and we eventually caught up with them, near the bottom.

We head into Cork, via the M8 motorway, but contrary to what we’ve been told are not impressed, with the place, to be honest. The landscape, was very much like England's patchwork landscape of fields and hedgerows, nothing that I’ve not seen before. Maybe I'm a little used to the scenery now and had expected the place to impress, or my expectations, might have been too high.

We decide to find somewhere, to get a bite to eat. But I didn’t want to stop in Cork. I was hankering for something more, resembling the place, I was expecting to find. Like a pretty seafront, not an industrial port and I was determined to find it no matter what, which put me into a grumpy mood. Silly, now I look back on it, but I can be a moody sod at times, it doesn’t last long as I’m aware of it but when I’m in a grump, I tend not to see rationally.

We were both, feeling hungry and something I had noticed, about Alex, whilst riding with him, is that he can get into an erratic mood, when he’s hungry. With this on my mind, we stop in at a secure car park, where you have to pay a man sat in a small kiosk when you collect your vehicle.  I nip into a nearby newsagents to buy some cheap sandwiches and due to the fact, that this seemed to be the extent of our lunch and not by choice, but necessity, it doesn't help my mood and I, rather childishly, practically throw my helmet on the floor, next to a small table outside. Whilst I was in the shop, which is run by a chap, who is clearly not from the Europe, I ask if there’s anywhere nice to eat at, with a seaside feel to it. Unfortunately, as I expected with little English, he doesn’t have a clue. I’m not and I’m never racist and give everyone the benefit of the doubt, but sometimes you can just tell when, someone who’s from a different culture, just can’t relate to where you’re coming from and you end up wasting your time trying, still I try and will continue to do so! But it did nothing, to improve my mood either. I come out of the newsagents and we eat our cheap sandwiches, I apologies to Alex about my attitude but I’m still in a mood.

We wander down the street, and discover a tourist information office, on the corner and I interrogate the chap behind the desk, for any suggestions on somewhere nice to eat, near the waterfront or similar. We are directed to 'Cobh', just down the road, South of Cork, on its own peninsula.

With a little bit of hope now, we go back and pick up the bikes and luckily don’t incur any costs as we were not there long.

We ride back onto the motorway, encountering some traffic issues along the way, which involved Alex getting cut up and triggered of his other side, making him ride off in anger. I knew where we were heading, so I let him blast off ahead, though I was a bit pissed off with him, being pissed off, until I pissed off at being pissed off and blasted after him, catching him up just at the turn off to Cobh. Luckily for us, Cobh, was exactly what we needed, a seaside full of pretty shops and most importantly some good places to eat. We parked up on the short pier and found a decent place where we could relax and unwind for a while.

Once happy and fed and with our moods, now returned to normal, we decide to head to our campsite for the night at Blarney.

Blarney rings a bell and I suddenly remember the Blarney Stone, where Irelands King and Queens of old where crowned, and decide, if there's time to make a visit. When we get to the campsite, Mike and Alexa have already been in camp a while and have pitched up, with Mike out running an errand, to the local bike shop in Cork, to grab himself some chain oil.

We setup our tents and I quickly, with just an hour left, race off to Blarney Castle to take a few photos of the stone. The ticket person, safely ensconced behind their Plexiglas, dissuades me from going in as even, if I just wanted to see the stone, I'd still have to pay, the 12 Euros, entry fee. So I settle for just a guidebook and an information leaflet of the Blarney Castle and head back slightly disappointed.

When I get back, Mikes returned with the oil and it’s decided that for dinner, we nip into town to a Chinese, he spotted and bring back to our tents, to consume with a few drinks. We also discuss the following day’s route. Tomorrow, I plan to split off from the group to do my own thing again, as even though I've loved spending some time with my friends, I miss riding solo and my minds a little worried, about the time I have remaining and is now further down the road, than my body is again. 

I do some calculations and realise that this time with my friends, has eaten into my riding time and I'm not going to make it all the way around, in the remaining time allowed. Either, I'm going to have to cut short my route, or extend my leave by a few days, to give time to complete the trip. I choose to stick with the plan, to complete my route, and first thing in the morning I will extend my ferry dates.