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| From My Pictures |
Compared to yesterday today couldn't have been more different.
There are days that you wish only to be out in the sunshine on a bike, yesterday was one of those days, and there are other days you wish you were home in the dry and warm. Today was one of those.
Up at 5.30am I packed my bags including the sandwiches that had been made for me. I even pored the orange juice into my recently acquired bottle only to leave it behind in the room (though I didnt realise this until I was 30 minutes away and couldn’t return).
Stepping outside I realised today might not be so great. It was raining. Not the downpour that tells you that this is short, sharp and sweat but that steady drizzle that tells you its here for the day and that you are going to get very wet.
Having skipped the "Atlantic Drive" without doing I was told I hadn't experienced the Achill Island I decided I had best take the time to cycle it. I am in fact quite glad I did as it was the highlight of a torturous day.
I really had been in two minds with the rain making visibility very poor but in the end the 43 miles around Atlantic Drive with miles of coastline in which no sign could be seen of mankind was very tranquil. One of the lay-bys is at the site of the Spanish Armada memorial. This plaque was erected to commemorate the ship San Nicolas Prodaneli which was wrecked on the shore at Toorglass, Currane Peninsula, in 1588.
It was at this point that the camera packed up (damp had gotten to it) as well as the trip computer on the bike. The computer I was able to salvage but alas the camera will need to be repaired. Not that there was much to see for the rest of the day anyway,
It was one of those days of just getting your head down and going for it. I was tempted to stop and wait for the next day to see what the weather was going to be like but the thought of spending a day hanging around a B&B reading a book, watching TV and generally trying to kill time before bed didn't really appeal compared to being able to get back to Dublin and spending the next day resting.
I got to Bangor and had a break in a cafe getting warm and having my second breakfast. I spread my soaked maps out on the table, wrang my gloves out put them on the radiator and looked at the mileage to Sligo. If I kept to my plan and went to Belmullet and then along the coast I probably wouldnt make it to Sligo in time to get back to Dublin. Plus the weather was foul and the area in North Mayo very remote and bleak. If I sustained a puncture I could find myself in a pretty bad place to be looking for shelter. So I decided to just head down the N59 and go to Sligo which was 100km away.
I arrived in Sligo very wet and tired at 1630. The railway station was illusive to find and when I did find it I was informed that the Sligo to Dublin train didn’t take bikes. Luckily there was a bus that would so ended up leaving Sligo at 1800. Arrived back in Dublin at 10pm and cycled home.
Strange to think that I have used Heuston station for the last time and that from now on its most likely to be bus or train from Connelly. Also looking at the map and the distances left only have about 6-7 days cycling left and I was just getting warmed up as well
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