County Cork

Day 13

Exiting the field the following morning I found myself looking out over an expansive lake, the early sun flickering down upon the water. It was a cold but beautiful ride into the heart of Kinsale, the road leading around one body of water or another.

Nearing the centre, I chose a coffee shop directly next to the harbour, an array of sailboats bobbing gently as I went inside to order. The small interior was a hive of activity, but a line of bar stool style seating outside offered the perfect relaxing start to my day, able to enjoy the feel of the cool morning beginning to warm as I sipped at my coffee. This was a great vantage point, allowing me to watch the hustle and bustle next door as a stream of young children arrived at their sailing club, preparing for a day on the water.

With only around 30 km to travel that day (planning to stay near Cork) I had a full morning to spare and hoped to explore the area. It was, therefore, surprising and a little disappointing to discover that the Information Centre was closed. Luckily, a gift shop a few doors down was open and the lady inside was able to provide me with some tips on where to ride in the local area.

The shopkeeper’s advice led me back out of Kinsale the direction I had come, though this time forking to the left, aiming for the Old Head loop. The route is famous for a 17th century lighthouse, as well as ancient ruins of a fortified site built by the Érainn Celts (between 500 and 100 B.C.), both of which were positioned at the edge of their own mini peninsula.

On my way I passed undulating farm fields – the odd one scattered with cows – on what was, by then, a brilliantly sunny morning. Initially surrounded by land, the view eventually opened up and the road led towards golden sand, the horizon offering a stark contrast as deep blue ocean met a white-blue sky. Sun reflected off a top-layer of water along the beach, left by the retreating waves. With just a small number of people out enjoying this magnificent landscape, the natural, peaceful beauty felt very much intact.

The lighthouse and ruins were at the crest of a steep incline up a single-lane country road. The intense climb had me considering more than once whether it was all worth the effort. As it turned out, it was. Once at the top I settled myself onto a stone wall to enjoy my prize – the ancient structures stood upon a yellow-green lawn as a rippling deep blue lapped the cliff wall below.

After a quick coffee and lunch back in Kinsale it was time to head towards Cork. Main road all the way, I was grateful that it stayed wide and that cars left a respectful distance as they passed. The slow continual ascent for the majority of the journey offered its reward as I finally crested the hill, the city of Cork now sprawling below.

Actually accessing the centre became a rather stressful process. The bike lane seemed to keep disappearing and reappearing in different directions, and the road signs pointing me towards the CBD were sending me away from the route my phone was telling me to take. All in all it was a much more complex and drawn out process than I felt it needed to be and quite frankly, it really took the edge off my thrill of reaching Cork. This, coupled with the realisation that I was in the centre of a city and yet still wanted to camp that night, put rather a dampener on my mood. There were also the issues that one of my cards had been cancelled and my phone battery was continually running low, so I was in danger of being alone, broke and unable to contact anyone for help.

Cork did have a captivating atmosphere, but in my current situation with no spare money to spend and a bike piled high with gear, it felt difficult to appreciate. So instead of exploring the city, I landed myself in the coolest working cafe I’ve ever come across, got myself a tea and attempted to sort out my bank card issue. Now the smart thing to do would’ve been to check the ATM first to see if my other card worked, but I wasn’t currently in smart mode, so at this point I was working under the assumption all cards may be blocked due to my using them in another country. This (I discovered once I returned to England and finally got hold of my bank) was not the case, it appeared someone had cloned my card in Dublin and attempted a mini spending spree at my expense!

After some time spent nursing my emotions and enjoying the warmth of the cafe I found an ATM, discovered I was indeed still able to withdraw money and went off in search of a shop. By now the sun was beginning to set and so began my daily chase, finding my camp spot before the day became dark. The route out of town landed me on the N25, which I will tell you now is a thoroughly un-thrilling experience on a bicycle. Unless that is, you get a thrill from feeling that you could be flattened at high speed at any second, in which case I highly recommend you get your bike out and head straight over!

Adrenaline spiked, my eyes scoured for an exit and at the first opportunity I took a turn off the road. This was at the small town of Glouthaune. Luckily, someone working in the local shop was able to direct me towards a park where I would be able to camp for the night and so, somehow, from what felt the peak of disaster, things now seemed to be working out quite well.

I sat on a picnic bench eating my dinner, looking out at the sun setting over the river. As I did so several people came to the park, some walking dogs, some just doing circuits. What felt odd was how much activity and exercise this small area of green attracted. As they did lap after lap, I was reminded of a hamster running round and round in its wheel in a desperate bid to get the exercise it needs. It made me appreciate all the more the many wide open landscapes I had passed through during recent days.

The night was beautiful. With the sunset in one direction, it was amazing to turn around and see a full moon in the other, both scenes reflecting on the river below. There was no peaceful silence – due to the main road, a busy train track, air traffic and, for a while at least, the frequent park visitors – yet somehow the vistas surrounding me created a wonderful serenity.

Taking advantage of a moment’s seclusion, I took my things beneath the trees and erected my shelter for the night, nestled safely out of sight. I didn’t know it yet, but this was to be my final night camping on this Irish adventure.