Thursday 15 January 2015

DAY 16 - Saturday / Grapevine Hostel, Dingle, County Kerry - Cliffs of Mohr - Westport, County Mayo / 230 miles


02/08/2014 / Saturday / Grapevine Hostel, Dingle, County Kerry - Cliffs of Mohr - Westport, County Mayo / 230 miles

Its 7am Saturday morning and an early start for us. Being that’s its early and bearing in mind, that for some of the guests sharing the room with us, it was ‘the morning after the night before’. We did our best to be quiet, but you can only do so much, with huge zips on our soft luggage bags. Having slept in my riding gear I managed to a quick exit by simply, picking all my luggage I had up in one go and move it carefully out, into the hallway before rummaging for that days essentials. 

The owner, who showed us around last night, had invited us to use what we needed for our breakfast from the kitchen, so after raiding the kitchens cupboards, I ended up with a full bowl of muesli to fuel me for the morning. I made sure I also sampled the tourist pamphlets near the door for future visits.

Outside, Dingle, was very quiet and peaceful, as we loaded up the bikes and struck ours engine in to tune.

Fig. 1 - View from the Dingle Peninsular, across to the Basket Islands.
We followed the R559 coastal road West from Dingle. The light from the sun being low in its climb for the day, was perfect for our morning ride along Dingle's rocky coastline. With crystal clear views across to the Basket Islands, as we ride along with sheer rock over hangs on our right. From the vantage point, Alex spots a secret little beach, which we decided to go and explore. The road that leads down to it wound down a steep gradient, ending in wet cobbles, then on to a small strip of sand. At the bottom we bump in to a small campervan, with some Polish tourists, who seemed to have stopped there over night. We say hello as best we can and managed to turn and climb our way back out and up to the main road. A little further on, we stopped to take some photos of the views, finding below us, some hardy sheep grazing, as they deftly cling to the rocks.

Beehive hut or Clochán in Irish, stock internet photo.
We pass some round beehive huts or Clochán in Irish. These are dry-stone dwellings with a corbelled roof design. The date of these dwellings is unclear but they could date as far back at the 8th century.

Fig. 2 - We just have to stop when

Fig. 3 - we see this in front of us. Honestly it took a few
moments to take it in.

Rounding the corner to start heading East and follow the road that leads back down to Dingle I had to pull over and stop to take photos again at the simply stunning sight, that we encountered which for both of us, just didn't seem real at first. In front of us was a valley, where over time the left hill range had half fallen into the ocean. It just didn't seem real, rather like a sky-fi fictional backdrop, just stunning. We took photos but again failed to capture the depth and feel of the view.

Fig. 4 - The view from the Conner Pass.
The R559 looped back passed Dingle and then over the Conner Pass, known as 'An Chonair', where at the top and despite the signs, I missed and stopped, just passed the viewing area, to take a few photos. The view from the summit looks northwards across a glaciated landscape, dotted with small, but deep, lakes called 'corries'. Glaciers flowed from left and right, downslope and into Tralee Bay, carving out the valley we see today.

We then flowed down the other side, which turned out to be a far more gradual gradient than the climb. Alex filmed most of the way down, but unfortunately for me, as I was leading, I had left my darned indicator on most of the way down, much to Alex’s amusement, as it had by now become a running joke with me, forgetting to cancel them.

We re-joined the N86, main road in the North of Dingle and followed the N69, to catch the ferry from Tarbert, crossing the Shannon to Killimer, choosing to cut off a small portion of the coastal road. We chose to take the ferry for a couple of reasons, one was to add verity and the other was to save time.

Fig. 5 - Catching the ferry from Tarbert.

Fig. 6 - Bikes safely stowed.


Fig. 6 - The ferries run every half an hour.

On the ferry Alex worried about his bikes stability but it wasn’t needed and he soon joined me on the walkway, to take in the view. Once we docked, we followed the N67 coastal road North to the Cliffs of Mohr.

On the way, our luck finally ran out and it chucked it down. Unfortunately my gamble in choosing not to bother donning my rain proof jacket in the faith that today would be sunny, failed miserably and I got drenched. On top of that the air temperature had also dropped and I was soon shivering.

We eventually arrived at the Cliffs, to find the place absolutely jammed up with coaches and tourists. There was a car park provided but for the 6 euros just to park there for a few minutes we decided not to bother. Whilst trying to find a place to pull over safely, to point the Satnav to our next destination, we inadvertently found a side road, where we could see people walking across the cliffs, a few fields away and we thought sod it why not, let’s hike across the field and hop the fence. Why should we pay someone to see a natural site? Luckily, before we struck out and as we were naturally feeling a little apprehensive about our rebellious decision. There appeared a woman, just hopping back over a gate 20 yards further down, the road and was now walking back to her car with an easel slung under one arm. Alex rode over, to have a quick chat to her and as it turned out, she was a local, who had been coming here to paint the cliffs for years and she explained that the fee a few years ago had only been 50 cents. She didn’t see why she had to take any heed of it and fully sanctioned our endeavours. She also explained, that she uses the path, we saw her come from most weeks and has had no problems whatsoever, so with that we parked up and got hiking.

Fig. 7 - The Cliffs of Mohr.
Fig. 8 - The Cliffs of Mohr, in this shot, if you look closely
there are people to the right that provide scale.
The cliffs are indeed suitably impressive, however after seeing impressive sights now for a few weeks it took us a little while to appreciate them. Having taken a few pictures and marvelling at how close some of the people, where getting to the cliffs edge, due to there being no barriers and only the peoples thin common sense, we decided to push on. Checking my small list of points of interest that I'd planned to see, the next place was called the Hole of Sorrows but we decided to skip this, as we were getting more tired and for the fact that after seeing the Forts these Neolithic stones would be a little less impressive now, so we decided to push on to Galway.

A few miles up the road from the Cliffs of Mohr whilst following the R477, that hugged the coastline, the landscape completely changed again. This time it seemed that we had found ourselves in a lava field, that stretched from the sea up the hillside, to the horizon. We pulled in at a layby and went exploring.

Fig. 9 - Limestone pavement, seemingly like a lava field.

Fig. 10 - Alex for scale, he's a useful chap!.
The place we found ourselves in is called The Barren or Boireann, in Irish meaning ‘great rock’. The landscape is composed of limestone pavements, with deep cracks cross-crossing the surface and had formed some 350 million years ago. It provides a unique environment where rare plants can survive. We explored over the jagged rocks being careful not to sprain an ankle and you could see where the rain and salt had eroded the rock creating vein like patterns on the surface.

Fig. 11 - A closer view of the limestone pavements, showing
how the weather is slowly dissolving them.
Unfortunately for some humans this natural beauty wasn’t enough and some of the larger flat surfaces where covered in scratches and graffiti. I generally like graffiti, when done well and can be enjoyed like a good Banksy but only on our drab civilised surfaces that we create for ourselves, rather than on natures face.

The weather got worse again and we had to stop in at a service station, in Galway to fuel up and take the opportunity to grab dry clothes out of our bags, with the plan to get some food and get changed in a MacDonald’s just further down the road. We also decided not to do the Connemara Peninsular today, as we felt it deserved a day with better weather, to get the most out of it. So the decision was made to push on to Westport and meet up with the others, at the house they were due to stay in. So with warm beds to look forward, to we set off.

With Westport only an hours ride North, Alex seemed a little impatient to get there by overtaking like a mad man. On the Satnav I spotted that there were a few turns to take on the way, but unfortunately, as Alex was leading this time, he didn't know this important fact. So, I had to step out of my comfort zone to catch him up. More importantly to me he also had my diary, safely locked in his dry panniers, as my tank bag, I had discovered was not water proof, destroying my Guinness playing cars and leaving me having to dry my diary under the hand dryer, in the MacDonald’s rest room, much to the curious looks from folk. Plus, Alex was the only one who knew the address of the house, as he had internet access on his phone. These little facts, where going through my head as I was considering the scenario, that I might lose him and have to carry on solo. Next time I’ll make sure I carry all my own stuff, just in case.

We got there in just over an hour and met up with Mike and Alexa, at a café in the centre of town, to find as predicted, their klutzy friend had given them the wrong key and it was going to take 1.5-2 hours for another of his friends to currier it up from Galway.

We stayed at the café whilst Mike and Alexa went off to a restaurant they had had to pre-book, as all the restaurants where jammed up for the bank holidays. We could get food at the cafe and had a late lunch whilst awaiting further developments.

Eventually we got into the house at around 11pm, firstly having to park the bikes on the back patio, with some dexterity, needed manoeuvring through the small gate.

We all had a quick catch up, sharing that days adventures and planning tomorrows. The plan being that myself and Alex would go explore the Connemara Peninsular, in a loop starting early the following morning. Then I would split off solo, again, to complete my circuit.

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