Day 8 The first couple of hours out of Galway were highly uninspiring, and I was soon feeling that the best of the journey had already passed. It is a hard thing to feel motivated when you just see uninteresting road ahead, especially when there is so much of it yet to come. I was, …
Day 6 The journey to the next town was only an hour or so, and I pulled into Clifden just as it was coming to life. There was an arts festival taking place in the town which, in wonderful small town style, meant the centre was adorned with colourful festooning. A tall silver shard-like structure …
Day five It was a blissful start to the day, waking up clean, warm, and dry. I enjoyed Orla’s company and some breakfast. By mid-morning I’d begun my journey around the coast, taking in the ocean and mountain view. One hour into my journey, life no longer felt so rosy. The road was taking me …
At 4am I dragged myself out from shelter to stand beneath the dull light of dawn, wanting to be gone without trace before any early risers made their way past on a morning jaunt. I had the joy of packing away under the rising sun. The light blue sky began to emerge behind the clouds, …
The turning into The Peaks introduced one of the hardest physical and mental challenges I have faced cycle touring. As the hills continued, albeit none quite so steep as this first, I began to question everything. Why was I doing this? This is the Peak District, named as such for a reason. Why did I …
