What a joy to wake up -for the last time of the trip perhaps- under a brilliant sun. Last night, the heat even woke me from sleep, I removed some layers. I know the day will be short, I need to recover from yesterday’s effort and Cork is so close I can afford to laze around.

Departure after warmly thanking Paddy for his welcome and good advice. I have no itinerary, I’ll just follow the coast and stop wherever I feel like, to observe a castle, a small cove, a lighthouse. I ride very slowly, my muscles are very sore. Right from the start, a small climb, which I hadn’t expected at all. It puts me in the red immediately (you can see it in the photo at the summit). I suffer the full backlash from yesterday and, let’s say it, my rear hurts (yes that rhymes, I know, I’m a bit of a poet on the edges of the saddle). Once this obstacle is passed, first break in Ballydehob (Bally means town in Irish, it’s a bit like the Breton Ker. It was “anglicised” by the British). A good large coffee, scones and quite a few life scenes at the service station. Quick visit to Baltimore afterwards. I thought about taking the ferry to see the islands opposite, but I’m too tired, I’ll keep it very simple today. I set off again without enthusiasm towards the hills of Skibbereen. I find a Lidl, hooray! I do some shopping telling myself that after lunch, my immense fatigue will eventually fade (spoiler: no). I enjoy my meal, which drags on, on the pretty beach of Tragumma. I learn at the expense of a young swimmer that there are also weever fish in Irish waters. Above 10 years old, most swimmers are in wetsuits, let’s not exaggerate, the sea must be icy. Stomach full but still weary, I go visit Castletownshend (careful, it’s not the same place as last time, some letters have changed). It’s a tiny port topped by a beautiful Anglican church. It’s also at the end of an immense descent that ends in a dead end. Bad luck. I go back up, apply some more cream (sunscreen and moisturiser, nothing’s going right anymore). I then wander very slowly along the coast, we start to feel the influence of Cork. The small fishing villages become more upscale, the houses are renovated, big SUVs replace tractors. I finally treat myself to one last little visit to Galley Head to see the point and the lighthouse overlooking it. It’s beautiful, wild; too bad, two old hipsters in a van spoil the view (a bit). At the cost of one last effort, I pass in front of the O’Connell, where traditional music is playing, in front of the stadium, where a hurling match is being prepared between two local teams, then I arrive, finally, at the campsite. It may seem improbable (do you have to live it to believe it?), but from my first steps in the place, I’m offered beers. By the time I set up my tent, the first big drops start falling. I buy something to cook at reception, there’s a kitchen! A neighbour offers me olive oil to brown my onions, eventually he’ll give me half a pizza later (and a third beer, which this time I refuse reluctantly, but I’ll really be rolling under the table otherwise). I prepare a fricassee of onions and transgenic sausages, drowned in a huge omelette accompanied by baked beans. Suffice to say I won’t need to eat for a few days. The Irish are impressed by the French cuisine and the smell emanating from it. I laugh heartily, seeing what I’ve prepared. Tonight, it really smells like the end of the trip. I’m exhausted and I received an email from Brittany Ferries telling me the rules to follow for boarding, a blow. I know that as soon as I take my seat on the boat, I’ll already miss the adventure. Through the day’s encounters, I noted a few potential places to visit in the area. I’m keeping possibly a day for Cork, but I don’t think I’ll sleep in town, hotels are too expensive and hostels too full.

Comments

Moum

Hey Ivan! I sense a bit of melancholy in your latest message. Fatigue? surely, the end of the trip? no doubt, the rain? certainly … So everything’s fine. Enjoy, and savour your descent towards Cork. Here too, water fell, with stifling heat, finally … we can breathe! You’ll soon regain your strength, enjoy the moment! Open your eyes and Keep dreaming! 😘

Leslie

Ayayay soon the return to the South… I’ll welcome you like a good British with …. drum roll… a beer! Very very excited. But until then, forget the return to Bordeaux and enjoy every present moment :)

Dad

Ciao Ivan, come stai ? It’s a bit like the plane before landing! Still a few rounds before the descent… What to do now with all these blog dependents, including you? I suggest you continue it using your experience to adapt it to the world of work. I have a few column titles that might interest more than one: -“Getting back in the saddle after the holidays”. -“Can you keep your head in the handlebars for long?” -“What to do when you run out of steam?”

• “How to react when a colleague blows a fuse?”
• “I’m pedalling in sauerkraut, how to change gear?”
  • “Learning to ‘sweat the jersey’ as a team” … Back to Vérines end for us, still not a drop of water in sight! Come on son, keep huming the air !

Teunteve

Thank you for making me relive our numerous adventures in Ireland, one of the most memorable of which took place precisely in the upscale suburbs of Cork where we were hosted by the family of Trish, Violaine’s pen pal. After a very boozy evening, in a magnificent property including a private golf course, around 2am a very, very animated discussion began between the father, descendant of pub owners very Irish Republic, and the mother from English aristocracy! And we, taken as witnesses after countless Irish coffees and with our school English… What a memory! You’ll probably experience a period of uncertainty but the reality of the working world will quickly impose itself and above all you’ll start preparing your next journey! Anyway congratulations on completing the project! And kisses to all your fan club