Wales – The Premeditations of Markus O'Reallyus

Posted on June 28, 2018October 29, 2018 by markusoreallyus · 1 Comment

Postscript

I’ve been home for about 40 hours now, and little by little my body is readjusting to the eight-hour time lag between Ireland and the west coast of Canada. Before my thoughts on my trip recede too much into the distorting waters of memory and forgetting, I thought I’d dash off a few observations in postscript, and post a few more pictures from some of the places I visited.

The bike

Whe I first started planning my trip, I had intended to ship my own motorcycle across to Europe. The more I looked into this, though, the more I realized that it made more sense to hire a bike that was already there. This was mainly about cost-benefit. The relatively short length of my time overseas meant the total cost of renting a brand new bike wasn’t much greater than the cost of shipping my own. When I included the various fees and taxes, insurance costs, and what I would need to do with my bike to get it ready for the trip, it was more or less a wash. My wife pointed out that I was less likely to have expensive and frustrating mechanical issues with a brand new bike than with my ageing warhorse, and since the chances of finding a qualified BMW mechanic in remote areas of the Highlands didn’t seem good, and since the hire bike included roadside assistance in the cost of the rental, I decided she was right (as is often the case).

My hire bike: a 2018 Triumph Tiger 800 XRT.

I’m glad I made that choice. The Triumph Tiger 800 is a fantastic bike, and while I don’t like it better than my old R1150GS, certain features definitely came in handy. I’m quite sure that cruise control, for example, helped save me from speeding tickets, especially in Scotland, where speed cameras are ubiquitous. Over time I got used to working with – and more often around – the ridiculous number of controls on the left handlebar, although I’d still suggest Triumph take a look at how this is all arranged. I suspect that something like BMW’s thumb wheel would be easier to use, and help prevent unwanted selections (like inadvertently switching on the heated seats when turning on the fog lamps).

In retrospect, I should have inquired more carefully about luggage capacity. I packed an appropriate amount for the cases I have on my bike, which are admittedly enormous. The aftermarket bags on my GS – Happy Trails side cases (35 and 40 litres), and a Givi top box (52 litres) – can comfortably hold more than enough for a three to four week trip. The much smaller OEM bags on the Triumph are better suited to one week. It’s my own fault for not enquiring. If I ever hire a bike again, I’ll do so.

I would also strongly recommend bringing your own riding gear, or at the very least, your own helmet. The gear I was provided with was mostly high enough quality (I’d even consider buying some RST gear if I could find it here), but it took nearly the full length of the trip for me to remember to put motorcycle pants (or ‘jeans’ as they call them over there, since ‘pants’ means underwear to them) first, then boots. My own gear has nearly full-length side zips, so I can (and usually do) put my boots on first.

The helmet was more of an issue. It fit a little snugger than my helmet, didn’t have a flip up chin bar (which meant I had to remove my glasses every time I wanted to put the helmet on or take it off) or a sun shade (so that I had to decide whether to wear my sunglasses or my regular glasses, something that can’t be changed on the fly). It also didn’t come with internal speakers, so I couldn’t get audio instructions from the GPS and had to look away from the road more often than I would have liked.

The GPS (or sat nav, over there) was an excellent thing to have, and worked well when using Google Maps (or other apps) on my phone wouldn’t have. Even though I had to look at it more than I would have liked, it was much easier to do so quickly than would have been the case on a paper map.

SIM cards

One of the best decisions I made was getting an Irish SIM card, rather than using a ‘travel plan’ from my Canadian provider. The travel plan would have cost me $150, and not even provided me with the meagre amount of data I normally have access to at home. The SIM card (which I got from 3 mobile) gave me “all you can eat” data (60GB!) in Ireland, and 6GB of roaming data for the UK, for €30 (less than a third of the cost of the Canadian travel plan). I ended up using about 17GB total, including 4.5GB in the UK. If you’re a Canadian travelling abroad for any length time, you should seriously consider getting a local SIM card when you arrive. The only downside is how ripped off you’re going to feel you are when you’re at home and paying more than twice the rate for about a tenth of the data you get in Europe.

Ireland

Ireland is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. It’s ridiculous how pretty it is, nearly everywhere.

A typical view in the Irish countryside. This was near the border between Northern Ireland and the Republic.

The Irish people, especially in the Republic, are friendly and welcoming. Dublin is an incredibly cosmopolitan place, with people from all over Europe – and around the world – working and attending university and visiting there. The whole of Ireland is an incredible blend of the new and old. History is on display everywhere, and yet it’s very forward looking as well, especially in cities like Galway and Dublin.

Thoor Ballylee, near Gort in Co. Galway, is the tower that Yeats lived in with his family. Irish literary history is rightly celebrated throughout Ireland.

Ireland has punched well above its weight in literature for more than a century, producing such important writers as Oscar Wilde, W.B. Yeats, James Joyce, Samuel Beckett, Sean O’Casey, Louis MacNeice, and Seamus Heaney, to name just a few.

Musically, too, Ireland has provided the world with more than its fair share of artists, especially in rock and pop music. Thin Lizzy, Gary Moore, The Boomtown Rats, U2, Sinnead O’Connor, The Pogues, Rory Gallagher, and many others have made a huge impact on popular music over the past 50 years.

A statue of Phil Lynott, the bassist and lead singer of Thin Lizzy, stands near Grafton Street in the centre of Dublin. In the 1970s, Thin Lizzy paved the way for many other Irish bands, like the Boomtown Rats and U2.

Scotland

Scotland has a different kind of beauty than Ireland. More rugged, less lush, but equally stunning. It’s astonishing just how much the landscape changes as you travel through Scotland. There is as much variation in geology and flora as there is in the many styles of whisky produced there.

The road from Applecross to Shieldaig in the Scottish Highlands.

I would like to have spent more than the week I had in Scotland. It is too vast to really see much of it. What I did see, I loved. From Loch Lomond to Inverness, Moffat to Shieldaig, Elgin to Edinburgh. The beers are different from those in Ireland, and of course single malt whisky is very different from Irish whiskey (which is almost always blended). As was the case in Ireland, many of the road signs, at least in the Highlands, are in both English and Gaelic (although Scots Gaelic isn’t exactly the same as Irish).

In fact, a person could easily spend a week or more just in the Highlands. Or just in Edinburgh. And, I’m sure, the same would go for Glasgow, which I sadly didn’t get to this time around. I hope Adele and I will visit Scotland in the future, so I can see more of it.

A lane in Edinburgh’s Dean Park neighbourhood.

England and Wales

I didn’t spend much time in England or Wales. A couple of nights each. The highlight of that was the time I was in the tiny village of Laugharne, where Dylan Thomas lived and is buried. For such a small place, it packs a lot of beauty and history into it. It would be worth a second visit, if I’m ever down that way again.

The ruins of the castle at Laugharne, on the south coast of Wales.

Midlife non-crisis

All in all, it was a fantastic journey, and an excellent, adventurous way to celebrate being 50. If I were doing it again, I’m not sure what I’d change. Add more time, maybe, if I could, and have Adele accompany me for at least part of it. Traveling alone for that length of time was a very different experience for me. I’m glad I did it, but I think I prefer having someone to share the experience with.

I don’t really have a lot more to say. I do, though, have many more pictures. Here is a sampling from them.

Farms in the Dingle peninsula.

Cliffs of Moher

Connemara

Giant’s Causeway, Northern Ireland

The road to Applecross, or Bealach na Ba, Scottish Highlands

Highland cattle

Sculpture near the National Gallery in Edinburgh

Washback stills (the tall ones) and spirit stills at the Glenfiddich distillery in Dufftown, Scotland

Cairngorms National Park, Scotland

Scarborough Castle, Scarborough, England

Waiting for the tide to come in. Laugharne, Wales.

Lake District, England.

Sandycove, Dublin, Ireland.

Posted on June 22, 2018June 22, 2018 by markusoreallyus · 1 Comment

M roads, Lake District diversions, and toffee

I’ve been riding around Britain and Ireland for the past nearly three weeks, and for the first time today, I encountered an asshat. Not once, but twice he rode up behind me and lurked, and then when I decided to overtake the car in front of me, passed me in the same lane as me. Anyway, I came to no harm, because one of us knows how to drive. And that one of us muttered a string of expletives inside my helmet and then did my best to let it go.

I think that was just before I reached Chester, so I’d probably left Wales. It’s funny. When you enter Scotland or Wales, they put up signs. The English, well, they think the whole thing is theirs, so why bother.

It was still fairly cool when I set out this morning. My weather app said 11 C, and predicted only a few degrees better in Scotland, so I dressed appropriately. The thermometer on the motorcycle told me it was 14.5 C when I set off, and I worried I’d dressed too warmly, but once on the highway, going 70 mph, I was fine. At least for the first while. Eventually, I stopped to get coffee and delayer, as the bike’s display screen told me it was 19 C, and not even noon.

It was mostly M road again today. In these last days, there’s more of a sense of urgency about getting to places. Still, when I got to the turnoff for the Lake District, I took it, and I’m glad I did. While the towns (especially Windermere, the former home of Beatrix Potter) are chock-a-block with tourists, there are long stretches of winding mountain road with relatively few other vehicles on them. They were a very welcome diversion. Sadly there were very few places to stop along the way where a decent picture could be taken, although I did get a couple.

Stone walls meander along the mountainside like rivers of rock

All good things come to an end, though, and soon I was back on the M6 heading north. On the plus side, I was heading back to Scotland for the night, before taking the ferry back to Belfast and returning the bike tomorrow. And while I was riding up the M6, with signs starting to announce that SCOTLAND (their emphasis) lay ahead, I looked up and – no word of a lie – two long, thin streams of high cloud were crossed in the mostly clear blue sky, making it look like a Scottish flag.

And so now I am in Moffat. Because I have two friends named Moffat, and Valerie told me I had to come here, and I had to bring her some Moffat Toffee. (I have no idea what’s special about it, other than it shares her name. Maybe that’s it. What more do you need? If there was a Milner whisky, I’d probably buy it.)

Moffat is a small place. Not really much more than a village. It has more than its share of B&Bs and Guesthouses, one of which I’m staying in, as well as a Best Western hotel, it’s own police station, a “general surgery”, and of course a shop that sells nothing but toffee. There are other things, too. A church whose tower dwarfs every other building in town, a handful of pubs, a couple of gas stations, grocery stores, etc. It’s a nice enough place to spend the night.

They’re having a classic car show here this weekend. I’ve seen Rovers, MGs, Jags, Singers, sadly not a Morgan. The pubs and restaurants are full of the English. The pub I ate dinner in was full of Manchunians watching football, shooting pool, playing the jukebox too loud.

One of the prettiest Jags I’ve ever seen.

Now I’m back at the B&B. To say the WiFi is dodgy is an understatement. I’ve had a lot of dodgy connections on this trip. Half the time here, though, I cant find it at all, no matter where I stand in my room. Luckily I have lots of unused data on my Irish SIM card.

Tomorrow I’ll say goodbye to Scotland for the last time on this trip. I’ll have a last few days in Ireland, and then I’ll fly home. I’ll be bringing a lot of good memories home with me. Oh, and some toffee, of course.

Posted on June 21, 2018 by markusoreallyus · 1 Comment

Lastness

This will be a week of last things. Today is my last in Wales. Tomorrow I’ll ride through English countryside for the last (foreseeable) time, and spend a last night in Scotland. Saturday will be my last day riding the Tiger. And then it’s down to Dublin, and more last things before I return home to my everyday life.

I’m looking forward to that return, but I also want to savour what’s here, what’s now.

Here and now is presently a pub comprising the main floor of a small hotel in the town of Llandudno, in the county of Conwy, on the north coast of Wales. I have a pint of Welsh ale. There is tolerable music playing at a tolerable volume. My room is upstairs on the third floor. It’s a nice room, spacious.

Getting here was more interesting than the past two days’ rides had been. Wales is beautiful. Lush and green like Ireland. Untamed and uncrowded like Scotland. It reminds me a lot of home. My road here wound between high hedgerows and low stone walls, between cows and sheep, small villages and tidy towns, along the seashore and between mountains.

My first stop of the day was in a seaside village. I parked near the beach and climbed atop the mounds of rocks they’re using as “sea defence”. The wind was whipping around me. If Wales is anything, it’s windy. I took some pictures of (to borrow an image from Joyce) the snotgreen sea with its whitecrested waves.

I didn’t stop often. It was cool – between 10 and 15 C – and blustery, and the constantly changing speed limits (which almost no one drives up to) kept me engaged. The Tiger purred and whirred, and only growled when it was time to overtake someone driving 20 or 30 mph under the limit.

There were churches in most villages, often the tallest buildings visible from the road. Occasionally an old castle was visible from the road. Stone bridges that only allow one direction of travel at a time.

In the mountains of Snowdonia I passed a town whose business was clearly centred around a shale quarry. The buildings, still mostly made of stone, took on a more alpine expression.

Now that I’m here in Llandudno, I don’t have anything much I want to go see. I’m happy to sit here with my pint and savour the lastness of it all.

Posted on June 20, 2018 by markusoreallyus · 1 Comment

Laugharne

It is a beautiful evening in southern Wales. I’m sitting outside a local pub in Laugharne (rhymes, sort of, with yarn, but with a bump in the middle) drinking Welsh ale. Unfortunately all the pubs stopped serving food at 3, so I had to settle for fish & chips next door (the first place on this trip to serve it with mushy peas!). Life’s hard, but I’ll adapt.

The sun is shining, the birds are making bird noises, and every so often a car comes past.

Laugharne is a sleepy town, very small, even by Welsh standards. Dylan Thomas called it “the strangest town in Wales.” He should know, he lived here. He’s buried less than a mile from where I’m sitting. I’ve been to his grave (this is turning into the graveyard tour of Britain and Ireland), and to the old boathouse he lived in when he wrote some of his greatest work, from “Fern Hill” to Under Milk Wood; I’ve even walked the path that is said to have inspired his “Poem In October”.

No tour buses here. A simple, wooden marker, with his wife Caitlin’s name and dates on the other side.

The B&B I’m staying in is less than a mile from each, and just around the corner from the pub I’m at now. It wasn’t much to look at when I rode up, and I was afraid I’d mad a terrible mistake, but once inside my fears vanished. It’s an old, stone and plaster building, with wooden beams in the ceilings. The room is enormous compared to most B&Bs. The bathroom is almost the size of the room I had in Lisburn at the start of this trip, and is strangely modern. You can see the ruin of Laugharne Castle from my window.

Not the view from my room. I know, I said I don’t like what castles represent. I don’t. But this is a nice old ruin, and I thought it was a good picture.

Dylan Thomas is the reason I’m here. He was one of the first “serious” poets whose work I fell in love with, back when I was getting ready to begin my first university degree. The summer before I began my studies I went to Canterbury Books in Calgary, now sadly defunct, and bought a copy of his Collected Poems and Collected Short Stories, both of which I still have on my shelves more than 30 years later. I still love his pulsing, alliterative rhythms.

The day didn’t begin here. It began in a little village near Bath. The landlady of the place I stayed left me a small loaf of homemade bread and some homemade gooseberry jam, which I ate when I got up. A little later, I rode to the Hartley Farm Market & Cafe, where she said I could get a good cooked breakfast. The eggs Benedict there was excellent.

After breakfast, I rode around Bath looking for Solsbury Hill, the place that inspired one of my favourite songs. I eventually found it (I think), riding up a narrow lane (Solsbury Lane, so it sounded promising), in places walled with stone on either side, in other places bordered by hedgerows, and still others by simple fences. The hill comprised sloping enclosures for sheep and cows, mostly. I’m guessing that either I was in the wrong place, or Peter Gabriel hopped someone’s fence, or was staying with someone there, or the place has changed since the 1970s. I think, based on the rest of Bath, that last option seems the least plausible. At any rate, there was no place to stop, and although in places I could see the city, it wasn’t nighttime, so there were no lights. No eagles, either, but I didn’t really expect that.

Bath is like a museum piece. Nearly everything is as it has been for at least a century, and often much longer. There are a lot of churches. It’s pretty, but in a museumy sort of way.

The ride here from there was mostly unremarkable, except for a detour necessitated by the police having closed the A46 to Stroud, likely due to a crash, and the GPS occasionally not keeping up to itself, so that I zipped past exits I should have taken requiring me to backtrack. It also meant I missed the turn off to avoid the M4 toll bridge to Wales. I got to pay £5.60 to nearly get blown off the bike by the strongest wind I’ve experienced on this trip next to Hector. This might have been worse, though, since they’ve used cable barriers down the centre of the bridge that would have sliced me like cheese if I’d hit them.

Otherwise, it was dull, efficient mile munching, until just outside Cardiff I saw another vehicle on the shoulder with its front end completely engulfed in flames. I’ll have to look into that in case Adele and I do a road trip here someday.

Everything is closing up in Laugharne. The pubs, which aren’t serving food, will still serve beer a while longer, but they’re not busy. The convenience store won’t close for another couple of hours. But it’s sleepy here.

Tomorrow I’m going to follow the coast north and then east, and stop for the night in a town whose name I can’t pronounce. For now, I’ll wander back to room and read for a while.

Excerpt from Under Milk Wood

Posted on May 31, 2018 by markusoreallyus · 3 Comments

Getting set

Last full day at home before I fly away for the better part of June. I am mostly packed. I have a few last wee things to pick up, lunch with a friend, and my last bass lesson until fall. Then, one last night in my own bed, and tomorrow I’m off.

It still only feels half real. Well, may 2/3 real now, having looked at my bank balance. Whatever. It’s only money, and worth nothing until you use it.

I’m looking forward to waking up each morning and saying, “Where to next?” And then watching the answer unfold through the day.

I’m looking forward to meeting new people, discovering new places, finding out more about myself along the way.

I’m going to miss my wife, just as I did last month when she was traveling through Europe with her daughter. In a different way, and to a lesser degree, I’m going to miss my cat, even if she is a needy asshole a lot of the time.

But these absences will be brief, measurable in days & weeks. That their presence bookends my journey is a sign of immeasurable good fortune.

I am incredibly lucky to have the life I have, and to be able to walk (or fly & ride) away from it for a time. Most people are not nearly so fortunate. Some may have more money, but few can really claim to be richer.

One more thing I’m looking forward to: meeting up with an old friend in Dublin, at the beginning of both our separate journeys.

Anyway, enough. For now. I’ll write more later. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. Wherever that takes me.

Posted on May 27, 2018May 28, 2018 by markusoreallyus · 2 Comments

So close

Five more nights in my own bed before I hit the road – or more correctly, the skies first and then the roads in Ireland. Just a few more days to tie up loose ends at work, visit with friends & family in town, & spend as much time as possible with Adele.

I’m nervously excited, a little anxious but mostly filled with anticipation. I’ve never traveled alone except for work. I’ve never driven or ridden on the left side of the road – well, not on purpose, anyway.

My bags are mostly packed. A few last minute decisions will be made, but I’ve got most everything I’ll need ready to go. Maps, iPad, rain gear (hopefully this will go unused), first aid kit (ditto), riding gloves…. It’s a long list. I won’t bore you with all the details.

Not to say everything has gone off without a hitch. I lost my bank card, and a replacement won’t be delivered until I’m overseas. This means carrying more cash than I’d ideally like to, although I hope to rely on credit cards for most things.

When I arrive in Dublin, I’ll get a European SIM card to use while there, which should save me about $100 on data charges.

The forecast is looking like good motorcycle weather. Dry, warm (not hot), and mostly sunny. Of course, that can change quickly, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

If anyone has recommendations for pubs in Dublin and Belfast, I’d love to hear them. Same goes for the Highlands, England from Yorkshire to Bath, and the coast of Wales, although I don’t know precisely where I’ll be stopping or when after the first few days in Ireland.

Posted on March 5, 2018 by markusoreallyus

The plan so far…

Flights booked. Bike booked. Accommodations booked for 90 per cent of the trip. Routes (roughly) mapped out.

I’ll be starting my trip in Ireland, skirting the perimeter of the island for the most part, and spending most of my time in the south. After picking the bike up near Belfast, I’ll spend a couple of nights in Dublin, giving myself some time to get used to everything being on the wrong side of the road. I’ll ride to my first accommodations, just outside of Tralee, before swinging up along the coast to Galway, where I’ll spend another couple of nights. Then I’ll be off up the coast again before ireland route

swinging east through Sligo to Belfast.

From Belfast I’ll catch a ferry over to Scotland, and ride to Dumbarton, where I’ll spend the night before heading to Oban. This will likely be the first of several stops involving a distillery tour, although I’m not planning to hit every distillery that I encounter, and haven’t included stops where many of my favo Highland route pt 1 urite distillers are located (e.g., Islay). From Oban, I’ll make my way to Skye, and then up the west coast of the Highlands. I’ll decide when I reach it whether or not to ride the Bealach na Ba, or the alternate, slightly less dodgy route to Shieldaig on my way to Ullapool. From there, I’ll skirt along the coast first northward then eastward to John o’ Groats, the most northerly part of Scottish mainland.

I’ll spend the night in Wick, then head down the east coast of the Highlands to Craigellachie, conveniently located near four (at least) distilleries. From there, it’s down to Stirling on my way to Edinburgh, where I’ll meet up with a friend and former colleague.

From Edinburgh, I’ll head south along the coast into England, through Newcastle-upon-Tyne and Scarborough, and stopping in York. I am told some of the best motorcycling roads in England are to be found in Yorkshire, so I’m looking forward to those. From there, Highland route pt 2 I’ll angle southwest towards Bath, where I’ll stop for the night before heading to Wales.

In Wales, I’ll ride through Cardiff to Swansea, on the south coast, former home of Dylan Thomas, where I’ll stop for the night. The next day I’ll ride up the coast to Snowdonia National Park, and spend the night in Colwyn Bay, on the north coast of Wales.

From Wales, I’ll head through the lake district back to Scotland, stopping in Moffat. I’m told it’s a beautiful town, by a good friend of mine who just happens to be named Moffat. I’m sure there’s no bias in her appraisal of the town. The next morning I’ll ride back to the ferry, and return the bike to the dealership in Belfast. A sh England & Wales route ort bus ride will have me back in Dublin for another two nights before I board the flight for home.

If anyone has any advice – things that must be seen, things to avoid, to watch out for, and so forth, please leave comments. Over the next couple of months, as I get closer to June, I’ll talk more about the bike I’ll be riding, what I plan to pack, that kind of thing. If you’re really curious about any aspect of the planning, let me know.

If you made similar trips and want to point me to your blog, your YouTube video, or whatever, feel free to leave that in comments, too.

Posted on February 27, 2018 by markusoreallyus · 1 Comment

Calculated risk aversion

While waiting for Air Canada to publish their 2018 rates for shipping motorbikes around the globe (well, to Europe, anyway), I decided to do some additional checking about just how much it would cost to rent a nice new bike, rather than shipping mine. It turns out, as I expected, it costs more. But – there’s always a but – not so much more as I had thought.

This is mainly due to what’s included in the price of the rental (pretty much everything I could want), and what I’d have to pay for in addition to shipping costs to send my bike over with me (things like import fees and insurance, as well as servicing my bike, and most likely putting new tires on it).

For a mere £2,355, I can have a nice, new Triumph Tiger 800, with cases, helmet, jacket, jeans, gloves and boots, pre-programmed GPS, comprehensive insurance, roadside assistance and unlimited mileage. That’s about $1,000 more than shipping my sixteen-year-old bike, including the dangerous goods insurance required for the shipping. But that $1,000 would have a hard time covering new tires, servicing and insurance. And I still wouldn’t have roadside assistance, or as they call it in the UK, ‘breakdown cover’.

It might sound strange coming from someone who rides a motorcycle, but I’m fairly risk averse. At least, when the calculations associated with that risk make me so. I don’t expect I would break down on my bike, but I could. It’s old, things fail. I know this all too well. And when things fail on an aging BMW, the cost can be depressing.

Now, I also don’t expect to break down riding a nice (relatively) new Triumph Tiger, but if I do, it’s nice to know that someone else will be picking up the cost.

This also takes a lot of the complication out of my trip preparations. I don’t have to fill out a lot of paperwork, clear a motorcycle through customs, arrange to be at the airport the day before the bike flies (which would be the day before I do). I just get myself to the airport, fly to Dublin, catch a bus to the rental shop and start the fun. At the end I just do that in reverse.

Renting the bike also removes a lot of uncertainty and risk associated with cost. My budget can be more defined, and this makes planning a lot easier. And easy is good.

Of course, if I were going to be riding for longer than I am, bringing my bike would be a no-brainer. Just as a shorter trip would have removed that option from consideration. As it is, this looks like the Goldilocks solution to my question.

Posted on February 16, 2018February 16, 2018 by markusoreallyus · 1 Comment

L

The calendar flipped and I hit a zero on my personal odometer. But it’s just a number. If I use Roman numerals, it looks smaller than the number that preceded it, at least in terms of characters used: L.

To mark the year, my wife suggested I do a long road trip in Europe, and I agreed that would be a great idea. (Yes, she is the best. Back off, she’s taken!)

After several weeks of planning, I’ve got the rough outlines of the trip in shape. I’ll fly my bike into and out of Dublin. I’ll ride down through Co. Cork, and up the west coast of Ireland – the ‘Wild Atlantic Way’ – then across to Belfast. From there I’ll catch a ferry to Scotland, ride the ‘North Coast 500’ route around the northern Highlands, then down through England to Wales, where I’ll catch another ferry back to Ireland for the flight home. All told, it will be just under four weeks.

As noted, it’s a rough outline. For the most part I haven’t decided where I’ll stop or stay. My plan is to stick mostly to smaller places, outside of the larger cities (with a few exceptions), and to keep my riding time down to four or five hours a day (rather than the eight to twelve that have been my habit on past road trips), so that I can spend more time in places. It will all be new to me, as I won’t be stopping anyplace I’ve been before. It’ll be an adventure.

I plan to write about it all here. I’ll include photos, and (if I decide to acquire a GoPro, or something like it) maybe some videos, too.

If you have tips, recommendations, warnings, feel free to leave them in the comments.

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