On Monday, we awoke in Kenmare and prepared to bike to our next town - Castletownbere on the south shore of the rugged Beara Peninsular. As on the previous day, there was an "optional" additional ride, i.e. a longer route to Kenmare. The total first-day ride was about 35 miles, including that longer option. All of us decided to skip the option this time and get into town at a reasonable hour and with a reasonable pace.
Today's ride took us onto the peninsular proper and the Ring of Beara. We were riding along the north coast and for a good part of the time, right along the shore of Kenmare Bay. This body of water was also known as the Kenmare River and therein lies a good story. It seems the British landowner and lord, the Duke of Kenmare, owned a good bit of the land in this part of Kerry. Later, his holdings would form a nice chunk of the Killarney National Park. The lord didn't want the Irish riff-raff fishing on "his" waters so, in his infinite wisdom, he decided to call the bay a river. Now you can limit who fishes on a river if you happen to own the land on both sides but you cannot prohibit folks from fishing on a bay since it's considered part of the ocean. That's how Kenmare Bay became Kenmare River.
Before we left Kenmare we took a quick ride on a back street to see the stone circle. Stone circles were built by iron age humans. There's very little known about these people who lived some 2,000 years ago. More is known about their neolithic predecessors because of cave drawings and other artifacts they left behind. Colm, our guide, said the reason we know so little about iron age people is because "they did absolutely nothing for a thousand years. Nothing!" However, they did build these mysterious stone circles. There are many, many of these circles throughout Ireland. What these were used for or represented is the topic of wide speculation - I guess like the speculation regarding Stonehenge of England, they were perhaps places that were religious in nature or astronomical or, as one of my fellow riders said, "just a place where a bunch of ancient hippies could gather at sunset, sit around and smoke some weed." Okay.
One of the great things about touring on bike (as opposed to being ensconced in a car - pardon my bias) is that you are more in touch with the land through which you're passing - the smells, the small details that you might miss as you speed by in an auto and, most important, the people that you can stop and converse with - or at least exchange a "good morning" with.
On our way on Monday we passed an older man who was using a scythe to trim the long grass on the side of the rood near Cloonee Lakes. I stopped to ask him what he was up to. His name was Batt and was a sheep and cow farmer. Batt was 74 years old - to me he looked to be older. His skin was weathered from his occupation. His cows were right there just adjacent to where we were standing. We must have talked to him for a good twenty minutes. His children were in the construction business because one couldn't make a living as a farmer any longer, he said. I asked him what his day was like and Ed asked him if he had to rise early to milk his cows. "No", he said, "they get sucked." Huh? "The calves - they suck'em," meaning I guess the cows give up their milk to their young-uns. Well, Ed wanted to know, what did he do with his livestock. He replied that he sells the calves (well fed that they are on mother's milk) to Italy. Go know. We bid him farewell and went on our way, having made an instant friend in just a few moments. It would never have happened if we had sped by in a car.
The morning's ride went by quickly and we arrived at Killamacallogue Pier where we stopped for some fresh mussels (right out of the neighboring waters) and a glass of Bulmer's cider at Teddy O'Sullivan's pub. Quite the nice thing for lunch.
We were getting tired again - that seems to be the process - fine most of the day and then about 2 or 3 o'clock the aches and pains (mostly on the surface of one's arse) start in and you want to be at the hotel .... not an hour from now but now! We finally reached Castletownbere after quite a bit of uphill riding and then a long and fast descent right into town which sits on Bantry Bay (Ireland's deepest port and the center of the white fish industry). Before we headed out of town to our Hotel, the Cottage Heights B&B, all of us met up first at Murphy's pub in the town square and quenched our thirst with some cold Guinness. It was a fitting end to a beautiful, but long, day of cycling. Dinner was at the inn. There was no music to be had in this small town of 700 so most of us just turned in early - to sleep, perchance to write a blog.
Tomorrow - ah, a day of rest. See you then. - Matt
To see all of today's photos, just CLICK HERE.
2 comments:
Just wonderful, a delight to look at and read.
Sounds like you're having a blast. A stunning ride amply fueled with good eats, mighty ales and apparently amiable and warm cycling companions.
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