Category: Reviews

Today was a transitional day on our tour: We moved across from western to the eastern side of the country. In what was generally workmanlike ride we did work in a few points of interest. Notably Glenquin Castle, which is in fact an armoured tower house, rather than a full-on castle. Impressive structure all the same. Andy also managed to work us up onto higher ground and we enjoyed the sweeping views on offer.

Glenquin Castle

Impressive Vista

Took me back in time

On a personal level it was good to come across a roadside memorial that was erected to mark the visit of Pope John-Paul II to Ireland in 1979. That was in fact the last time I had visited the country to see the Pope in Dublin and near Knock. I had not been motivated by some religious fervour, rather as a spotty 14-year-old I would have done anything to get out of double physics!

Quite a thing to stumble across

We did wander past a large wind farm and were impressed by the sight of a man in climbing gear and harness, dangling from the end of a turbine blade seemingly redressing the edge with an angle grinder!

Our route essentially cut through the gap between the Mullaghareik and Ballyhoura Mountains. Initially on a series of R roads before picking up the N72 into Mallow and then down the N20 towards Cork. We did stop off briefly in Blarney, home to the famous stone, that gifts you the ‘gift of gab’ if you kiss it. Have you heard that old saying ‘they’ve kissed the blarney stone’ when somebody is waxing lyrical about something?

Yet again a tearoom left a load of stuff randomly on our table…

However, we were a little underwhelmed by the town and didn’t bother stopping long or checking out the castle that hosts the stone. Instead, we chose to press on.

Offered Ice Lollies!

Yet again we were riding in hot and humid conditions and as we struggled to find our digs briefly, we pulled up outside a house and have a chat to sort where we were. No sooner had we stopped than a women and daughter came over and asked if we were ok and offered us ice lollies! Luckily, they also knew where we had to get to and put us back on track. Yet more friendly and helpful people!

Barnbrow Country House was our destination. We rolled up its long, tree lined drive and broke out into the reception courtyard. We quickly got our rooms sorted and I somehow wound up with the best one. Just rewards after two days kipping on a sofa bed I suppose. It was sumptuously appointed and spacious. I did however have an evening long battle with the coffee maker in a bid get to deliver hot water for a cuppa. Then much later I discovered a kettle in the wardrobe doh!

Idyllic digs

Not everyday day of a biking trip has to be about covering hundreds of mines or going as fast as you can. This had been a chilled days riding. Just what we needed

Magical musical night

We sorted a taxi and headed into the local town of Ballycotton to have a few beers and get something to eat. His proved to be a bit of an unexpected highlight. Gerrard our driver arrived in a rather swish Audi A6. He whisked us into the town whilst simultaneously showing us the local sights, taking us to a viewpoint, before wittily recounting the tale of Rory Gallagher’s brother. The closest thing the area has to a celebrity, I think. All the time he was also on his phone laying horse racing bets and getting racing tips from his mate. What a character.

‘Shall we go to another pub? Ah, go on…’

We took in a pub he recommended ‘The Schooner Inn’ where we had the best scampi I have ever tasted, before crossing the road to take in the delights of ‘The Blackbird’. A couple of beers were quickly dealt with. The soft, lilting sound of Irish folk music played could be heard from the back of the pub. We wondered down a corridor and into a packed room to investigate. This was ‘The music room’. A feature of many a local pub in Ireland apparently. Here local folks were singing traditional tunes, accompanied by others playing guitars, accordions and Bodhrans (a circular, handheld drum). The atmosphere was fantastic and before we knew it,we were amongst the crowd and singing along. Magical.

I was chatting away to the locals about my Irish roots. A bit too much I later learnt, but anyway. What an epic evening. I had heard of these places but thought that the tales were exaggerated. It seems there were not. I was gutted to come away when Gerrard returned to collect us. It was great to sample a little of this Irish magic off the tourist trail.

Musical Locals

Day Eight – In The Thunder and Rain

It was a good job that I had a great night’s sleep in my super comfortable room as today that other great Irish tradition finally hit us: Rain. Lots of it too! We were all kitted up and made our way down the drive. It was at this point that Matt on his GS dam nearly went off the track and down a steep slope as he tried to give room to a car coming up the drive some. I was just behind him and genuinely thought he was going to go. Luckily, he just about got through ok. Phew

In light of the poor weather, we just went directly to the appropriately named Waterford. Home to the world-renowned crystal used in glasses and decanters etc. But we were wet and in need of food and a hot drink. So, we checked the McDonalds instead. OK, I know, but I have to say rarely has the sight of a ‘Golden Arches’ been so welcome!

Old memories re-kindled

From here we took a beautifully engineered and all but deserted motorway (M9) to fast track us to the Wicklow Mountains. Another place I vaguely remember from childhood holidays in the 1970’s. Even in the rain it felt good to be roaring along in a line of three BMW 1200s rather than crammed into an asthmatic 1960s Ford Zephyr!

Taking a break from the gravel

Once in the National Park that encapsulates the Wicklow Mountains, we found ourselves picking our way along heavily wooded lanes. It was still raining and a little grey. To be honest the sights, when compared to what we say on the Atlantic coast, did not compare well. To make matters worse one section had been freshly re-gravelled. This went on for several miles and at times we were down to less than 30 mph. Not fun.

Only one thing for it. We stopped at a tea room. This time Matt didn’t, I repeat didn’t have a huge scone with cream and jam. However, I did. They were great! Yet again we bumped into more chatty locals, a Harley-riding ex-pat and his sister this time. She took a shine to Andy and keep mentioning she was single. Hilarious! There was also a family visiting from California in the USA. Quite a contrast in surroundings for them, but they seemed happy enough!

The next section was much better, no fresh gravel as the road wended it’s way through a lovely landscape of rolling valleys. A particular highlight was beautiful waterfall where we stopped for a while to get off the bikes and appreciate our surroundings better.

Sweeping views, mist hanging low

Then all of a sudden it seemed we dropped down from the national park and into the suburbs of Dublin. The traffic as so heavy that we crawled the 5 or 6 miles to our digs for the night. The only thing of note is that we did cross the famous River Liffey. Once reviled for the level of pollution it suffered. Now much improved and a notable landmark

Expensive city, so back to Uni for us!

We had really struggled to find affordable accommodation in the capital. Being quoted hundreds of pounds each in some cases! But a little thinking out of the box had us sorted. We stayed in the student halls of the DCU (Dublin City University). They rent them out over the summer when the students nurse their hangovers back with Mommy and Daddy. They are very basic but a relatively cost effective way to stay in Dublin

Back to Uni (Not that I actually went to Uni…)

We did have access to a kitchen but chose to head to the student bar, which still open to support the international students who were still on campus. The sight of three middle-aged bikers wondering in didn’t seem to raise eyebrows. So, we ordered beer and pizza and proceeded to have an excellent night! We didn’t head into the city centre as I feel it would just be like many other big cities and didn’t gel with the vibe of our tour.

The only way to sign off the trip!

One last pint, until the next time…

The next morning it was up early to head tot ferry port for our 9am sailing. Only 3 miles so the digs were super handy from that perspective too. The ferry we boarded the Norbay is a bit of shed, very much more oriented for freight traffic: Coming up from the vehicle deck involved negotiating narrow metal walkways and steep, steel steps. It genuinely brought to mind HMS Belfast, which I toured last year!

Bargain!

However, the lounge was comfy enough and the hot food and drinks were included in our ferry fare. We had got a good deal at £59 per bike/rider. So having the meals too was a real boon. A decent breakfast, soup and a roll at lunch and a three course meal about an hour before docking. Absolutely spot on! Then as an added bonus, just as I went up on deck to get some air, the BBMF Avro Lancaster flew directly over us! What a fabulous sight and the sound of the four merlin engines roaring away…awesome!

Andy eating Matt’s bread roll

The mighty Avro Lancaster PA474 of the BBMF was apparently on route to the IoM

Old tub, but such a smooth crossing

The crossing was smooth and uneventful and after getting of the ship first we all headed back to the midlands, splitting at Whitchurch as we had on the way up. I got home with 1332 mils added to odometer and a mass of memories that I will treasure forever. That, my friends was an epic trip. Thanks to Andy and Matt for being top company throughout and full praise to the people of Ireland, both north and south for your warmth and your welcome. To quote a certain Austrian, ‘I’ll be back…’

Here’s to the next trip.

Words and Pictures: Tony Donnelly

The first two parts of the trip are recounted here:

Part One 

Part Two

On to day four of ‘Lap of Ireland’ and we beginning to get into the rhythm of the trip. All the dull planning and the anxiety about catching ferries etc a distant memory. Now, it was all about riding, enjoying the company of good mates and taking in the gorgeous countryside that we were lucky to be traversing.

Day Four – Into the Valleys

Today we worked our way along the coast and headed from County Donegal through, Co Mayo and onto Galway. A glorious 233 miles during which we enjoyed seeing so many beautiful sights.

We set up for the day with a hearty Irish breakfast (I had the salad option obviously…), over which we chatted with two German lads. They had also stayed at Moran’s overnight. Both were riding BMW 1200 flat twins of various types. These seem to be the weapon of choice for well over half of the bikers we came across over here touring the sights.

Initially a little rain dampened our spirits, and a lingering mist did obscure the coastal views a little. However, it also added to the atmosphere somehow.

We called at the Ballycroy National Park Visitor Centre which enjoys spectacular views of the surrounding hills. The centre housed a great little tea room where none of us, especially Matt, had a huge slice of chocolate brownie. Oh no, we are better than that…

Somebody left these on our table…nothing to do with us!

Sweeping views that my decrepit smart phone in no way does justice

Matt, as our group ‘youngster’ we allowed him to do some reading and colouring in

Magical Landscape

We pressed on across the lowland areas with mountains tantalisingly looming in the distance. What a fabulous way to spend a day’s riding. The thing it is, it only got better. As we worked our way around the coast and into the Connemara National Park were blown-away by the landscape. The Doolough Valleywas just jaw dropping. Many people just pulled up, as we did, and looked on in awe.

Magical landscapes, and it was even more beautiful than this picture implies

I thought I had best include some pictures of our motorbikes

Here we chatted to a lovely German couple who we had seen on the road a couple of times already. He was riding a heavily loaded BMW R1250GS, whilst his good lady wife had the better deal. She was riding a nippy and unburdened 401 Husqvarna Svartpilen. She had only passed her test just over a year earlier, and here she was revelling in touring Europe. They had also been to the TT. Great to see people out there enjoying life and exchanging stories with them. All an intrinsic part of a good road trip, the people you meet and experiences you share.

Blessed to be able to do this

We had to suppress the urge to stop every few minutes to take pictures. So breathtaking was our backdrop. As it was, we pulled up several times. I was amused to note that a slow-moving Skoda we swept past more than once, kept chugging along and going past us as we photographed this or that.

Later we reflected later how lucky we are to be able to experience and enjoy days like this. Life is short, sometimes it pays to pause to saviour these times.

We had hoped to sample the delights of Galway. A town well known for its friendly welcome. Unfortunately, we were not the only ones with this idea, and we became snarled up in a maelstrom of teeming, heavy traffic. Even filtering on a bike progress was painfully slow. On a warm day it was also uncomfortably hot. So, after thirty minutes or so, we called it quits and headed for our digs. We had been enjoying a fabulous day, and it seemed a shame to undermine it.

After our daily hunt for supplies we managed to find our digs for the evening and settled in. Red Robins Nest is a small complex of wooden cabins in a pretty, rural location. Basic, but comfortable. Here we enjoyed a simple meal, one or two beers and whiled away the evening chatting and laughing.

The people we had met had universally been warm and friendly. The Republic has an almost continental feel, especially in the small towns and villages. A relaxed and easy-going atmosphere pervades somehow. Even the roads, which we had been led to believe would be in a poor state, were generally in good repair, well signposted and logically laid out. Halfway around our lap and it could not be going better.

Day Five – Classic cars and flying boats

A bit of an easier day on the bikes. However, it was no less enjoyable as we made our way towards Limerick. As ever rather than go the direct route we hugged the coast and followed ‘The Wild Atlantic Way’ in the main.

Once again, our journey was peppered with great sights and historic buildings: Dunguaire Castle being just the first. We had great fun attacking ‘Corkscrew Hill.’ A tight series of switchback bends up the side of the hill, obviously. The view from the top was expansive and impressive.

Dunguaire Castle

 

On through Lahinch and its lovely cliffs and beach. We stopped off briefly at Spanish Point. So named as in 1588 ships of the infamous Spanish Armanda sheltered here in a storm. Members of the crews that went ashore were executed and buried in a mass grave! Luckily, we received a somewhat warmer welcome!

The sweeping beach at Lahinch

Assuming the pose at Spanish Point

My trusty BMW R1200RS

As is tradition we enjoyed a mid-morning halt for refreshment. Once again Matt resisted the fantastic looking lemon drizzle cake. Andy and I were not so strong. You must admire his bravery!

From Porsches to a mighty Boeing

From here we had a couple of options: We could head around the River Shannon estuary or trim the route by taking the ferry across. We opted for the ferry. It leaves from Killimer and for the princely sum of €12 takes you over the estuary. Dropped off at Tarbet and directly onto the N69 coast road. Joining us on our crossing were a group of Porsche enthusiasts from the Netherlands. All were driving immaculate 1970’s and 80’s 911s. Impressive

Glamorous company

Sister ship to the ferry we were aboard

Yet again the views were lovely. The N69 overlooks a stunning bay. On a sunny day like today a bike is the perfect way to take it in. The pace, once again, was unhurried. Why would you want to rush past this? Then something very odd happened: The back of an old flying boat sticking out the side of a building swung into view! Obviously, we had to stop. Turns out we had stumbled across the ‘Foynes Flying Boat Museum.’

An amazing find

This opportunity could not be missed: We pulled up and headed in to check it out. The aircraft is in a fact a full-size replica of a Boeing 314 Clipper. Similar in size and configuration to the ‘Empire Class’ flying boats made by Short Brothers. In the late 1930’s and through the years of WW2 huge flying boats flew from here across the Atlantic. At one point it was one of the largest international airports in Europe. It closed not long after the war and the existing international airport opened on the other side of the estuary.

That was some landing…

The museum is an interesting distraction. Currently it is undergoing expansion, but we enjoyed checking out the interior of the Boeing 314 replica and the views from the control tower. Foynes can even lay claim to being the home of Irish Coffee! You learn something new every day. If you are in the area, pop in. Entry fee was €5. This is a bargain. Might be worth checking it out once the expansion is complete.

Yankee Clipper and Kidderminster nipper!

Andy found the Boeing 314 easier to handle than his BMW R1200GS

Time to head for our digs. This time we were stopping for a couple of nights as had hit the halfway point of our ‘Lap of Ireland’. The N69 is good road and sweeps through some great countryside. Our accommodation was located near a Forest Park, but initially we rocked up to the wrong cottage. We have form for this…

Adopting a dog!

What was amusing here was just how laid-back people are here in Ireland: Three strangers on 1200cc motorcycles roar into your courtyard and park up. Nobody batted an eyelid. The elderly lady wondered out serenely and chatted away as if she was expecting us. We eventually established we were about a quarter of mile from our proper destination, ‘just after my brother’s cottage’ she said. Like we knew her brother too!

Anyway, we rolled out and quickly found the right place. I was overwhelmed by the heat we had been out in it all day. Not the problem I had been expecting to have in Ireland! The lads popped for provisions while I cooled down. It wasn’t too long before we are eating and enjoying another evening with a few beers and lots of banter. The landlords dog even seemed to adopt us. Unsure of her name, we called her Kerry.

After going past her brother’s cottage we found it ok!

Wee ‘Kerry’

So far, the trip was going brilliantly. Each day we’ve had good riding, amazing views and come across friendly, welcoming locals. The bikes had all run like clockwork too. Spot on.

Day Six – Like being in a fairytale

In a trip that has been rich in fabulous countryside and expansive views it was going to take something special to top what had gone before. Well, we need not have worried. After an initial section on the open and quick N21 we peeled off and headed for ‘The Black Valley’ home to the ‘Gap of Dunloe’ a jewel in crown of County Kerry that separates the wonderfully named MacGillycuddy’s Reeks mountain range from the Purple Mountain group.

We started out from Kate Kearney’s cottage, where there is also an excellent little tearoom called The Coffee Pot. Here, yet again Matt DID NOT, repeat DID NOT, have a huge slice of lemon cheesecake. His strength should serve as an inspiration to us all. Here, just as we mounted our bikes to tackle the gap an elderly gentleman wondered over and just started chatting away to us. A lovely guy, he admired our bikes and seemed impressed by our plans. He even offered to make us a cuppa from his camper. This encounter is yet another example of the warmth and friendliness we met throughout our trip.

One of the highlights of the entire trip

A word of caution here. The road that crosses the gap, whilst metalled and well surfaced, is narrow. It’s only freely open to cyclists, walkers and horse-drawn buggies. Cars and motorcycles can go over but you do need to take great care. As we gently picked our way along the track, we always stopped and turned off our motors for passing buggies. Progress is slow. However, this is a great thing as the valley offers views that are magical. You feel like you are moving through a dreamscape, almost other-worldly.

Dunloe really is that good. We did take pictures obviously, but they utterly fail to convey the spellbinding beauty of this place. It is like time has stood still for generations. To be honest, our presence did almost feel intrusive here. Such was the peaceful and tranquil atmosphere of the place. Our pace was very slow and if you do ride this road, please do the same.

Taken to another world

The track winds up through narrow passes and over babbling brooks. For 30 minutes or so you are whisked away in your head to a world at peace with itself. This is a special place…

The excellent Coffee Pot

The pictures speak for themselves here:

The other side of the valley continued to delight. Rather more than the searing heat. Is this really Ireland? Where is all the rain and cold? I decided to change into normal jeans from my riding gear here. Risky, yes, but I was cooking!!

Chilling out and cooling down

Next up was the Killarney National Park. Once again, we were almost overloaded with views that my humble skills as wordsmith cannot do justice. Expansive lakes, picture perfect valleys that ironically pictures do not entirely convey. Ireland just keeps giving. I was concerned that it might be underwhelming and similar to the UK. In some regard it is, but in so many others the beauty when mixed with the serene atmosphere, makes for an enticing combination.

Assuming the pose again

Ireland’s NC500?

This also meant we did ride some of ‘The Ring of Kerry’. If the Wild Atlantic Way is Ireland’s Route 66 then this is it’s NC500, Scotland’s pride and Joy. The Irish will argue (correctly) that this route became famous first and from the section we did ride, it is very easy to see why. However the air is filled with the gentle ‘thrum’ of turbo-diesel engines straining to pull heavily laden coaches and campervans up hill and down dale. This accompanied by a base line provided by BMW flat twins. Its looks like somebody invited loads of people to a Charlie and Ewan look alike competition and everybody came!

Put more simply, the area is really popular! The downside to this popularity is crowds. God knows what it is like in the peak months?!  However, this doesn’t detract from its beauty in anyway. We checked out the waterfall at Torc. Beautiful but you can tell that many months of dry weather have had their impact on the actual flow down the fall. Had the weather been let’s say more traditionally Irish I think it may have been even more impressive!

The Waterfall at Torc

A full days riding that will live long in my memory. We headed back to our base via the little town of Raithkeale and picked up supplies (ready meals and beer!) at a local supermarket. Incidentally supermarkets seem surprisingly thin on the ground, but there were way more petrol stations than I expected.

Not in my Lifetime!

We parked the bikes up outside the supermarket and a young lad came running over to look at them. His mother appeared and asked he could sit on Andy’s GS. We happily let him aboard. His mother took his picture and then proclaimed very loudly, that was the last time he ever went on ‘one of those things’ while she was alive. Funny. The poor lad looked a mix of little crestfallen and rather embarrassed! Irish mother’s – you’ve got to love them!

Back to the digs with our supplies. More banter and a few cold beers followed. Also our dog collection now expanded to two. Kerry had a friend we christened her Terri. Kerry and Terri!

The rather more timid Terri

In the morning we head east and the final stage of our lap. It has a lot to live up to

Words and pictures: Tony Donnelly

Part One can be found here

A bit more info for you:

A Guide To The Gap of Dunloe: The Walk, Tours + Warnings

It felt good to be on the quayside in Liverpool alongside a couple of old friends, waiting to board the overnight ferry to Belfast. Eight days of biking adventures lay ahead once we had crossed the Irish Sea to start our lap of the Emerald Isle

Days One and Two

However, as is so often the case with a touring trip before the pleasure first must come the pain. The traffic in the UK has been getting steadily worse. On a busy Friday afternoon, a perfect storm of stifling hot weather, dense traffic and pothole strewn roads did their level best to strip me of any feeling of euphoria as I escaped the shackles of everyday life for a few days. However, as soon as we all met up at the charming Horse and Jockey on the A41 near Whitchurch for food and the all-important first pint of the trip, my troubles soon began to melt away.

The all important first pint

Under a Blood Red Sky

Once on our ferry we dumped our stuff in our cabin, bickered over who went in what bunk and then made our way out on deck. We watched the sun set over Liverpool with a gentle red glow that lent the scene the air of a Sci-Fi film.

An almost surreal sky for our departure

Our cabin was surprisingly comfortable, and this allowed us to grab a little sleep as the ferry chugged serenely across an uncharacteristically flat-calm Irish Sea. Groggily we rose when the tanoy announcement boomed out telling us to make our way back to the bikes. Before I knew it, we were spat out onto the streets of Belfast.

Waiting Game

First port of call was, of all places, a McDonalds. Not the most glamorous start to visit to the land of my forebears, but we had two hours to kill before our main target for the day (The Titanic Museum), opened its doors.

Not the most glamorous of starts for our adventure

What can there be to display?

I was a little concerned that the exhibition might be a little lacking in meaningful exhibits, what with the (White) star of the show, inconveniently, being 12,000 feet under the North Atlantic! Thankfully, the whole set-up is excellent: From the state-of-the-art building that houses the museum to the thoughtfully displayed exhibits.

The museum is housed in a cutting edge piece of architecture

We spent 3 hours in there and could well have taken much longer. From the insight into the development of Belfast to the history of Harland & Wolf and The White Star Line, to the heart wrenching stories of the passenger and crew. Both those that survived and those that sadly did not. Odd things got to me; The violin played by one of the ship’s musicians, a deck chair recovered from the sea…

Poignant relic 

All beautifully done

The list of victims displayed on a huge sweeping wall, had people transfixed, me included. For me one of the most intriguing displays was the full scan of the wreck beneath a glass floor you can walk across. The scan sweeps over the wreck and it almost feels that you are in a submersible observing the real thing.

You could almost be at the wreck site

The actual slipways on which Titanic and Olympic were built are still there.  It is also worth checking out SS Nomadic. This was a ‘tender’ ship to the Titanic used to ferry passengers to it. Beautifully restored after an eventful service life spanning many decades and two world wars. It gives an interesting perspective on ships of that era.

The slipway that hosted the Titanic

The same slipway in 1911

SS Nomadic

We headed away from the museum highly impressed, but completely out of time to check out HMS Caroline which is also displayed nearby. This is a World War One era warship, one of very few remaining. One for another day.

HMS Caroline

The famous H&W shipyard crane. A Belfast landmark

Down to the trip proper

Now we got down to the serious riding. Briefly halting at Larne, another port, and a spot I remember from when I visited the area in the early 1970’s as a child. It’s weird what pops back into consciousness with the right trigger. The main attraction is the ‘The Causeway Coastal Route’. This is a superb road that hugs the northern coastline of County Antrim. The views across some beautiful, near deserted beaches is, at times, breathtaking. Highlights include rock archways over the roads, the golden sands and while they could be ridden at pace and would be great fun, riding in a more measured style seemed the appropriate way to go. Waft along and just take it in. This was to become a running theme for the weeks riding.

Larne

Every time we stopped to take it all in, people approached us for a chat. They are so friendly and pro-bike. It makes a refreshing change from what we have become used to back home. We even rode along parts of the NW200 circuit or got close to it. Including the so called ‘Magic Roundabout’ at Ballysally. There are loads of places called Ballysomething. I found this area of NI very reminiscent of the Isle of Man. Both in appearance and general atmosphere.

The only picture I took, doesn’t do this route justice at all

They will have some great wedding pictures hopefully

On one rest halt, overlooking a spectacular inlet down a steep cliff a bride and groom suddenly appeared in full regalia! They proceeded to gingerly make their way down to the water’s edge, accompanied by their photographer! I hope the pictures came out ok and didn’t have three crusty bikers in the background!

No tents for us

We rolled up to our digs in Coleraine, a very comfortable and well-appointed bungalow in residential cul-de-sac. Our arrival, on three BMW R1200s seemed to cause a bit of fuss and neighbours were soon out and saying hello.

Comfortable digs

Has to be done

Motorcycle touring in this way can get expensive. Camping is significantly cheaper, but it is a lot of hassle and there is so much kit to drag about. Where you can save money is by going self-catering where possible. So, two of us popped out and came back with supplies. A couple of frozen pizzas, some snacks and a few bottles of cold beer saw that the evening was sorted, and costs kept reasonable. It had been a baking hot day and the cool beers were particularly welcome!

In a strange coincidence as we settled down to enjoy a cooling pint and stuck the TV on, the first thing that came on was the 1998 Titanic film. Life plays odd tricks like that sometimes.

Day Three – In the Footsteps of Giants

One of main reasons for being in Northern Ireland was to check out the internationally renowned ‘Giant’s Causeway’. The causeway is, in fact a UNESCO World Heritage Site and is natural formation of interlocking basalt columns, in a regular hexagonal form. Local legend has it that the columns are the remnants of path build and used by a giant Fionn mac Cumhall (pronounced Fin MacCool) to allow him to get over to Scotland to take on their giant, Benadonner. The outcome is disputed, depending on whether you have Irish or Scottish heritage. As a proud ‘Plastic-Paddy’ my money is on our man!

Either way it is a peculiar sight to see these hexagonal columns. It’s a bit of a trek to get down to them from the car park, but we had left our bike gear with the helpful car-park attendant. There is a shuttle bus if you’re feeling lazy! Naughtily, as a fellow tourist videoed the scene, I mentioned loudly that the columns are all numbered and stored in a warehouse over winter to reduce erosion! I wonder if they believed that tall tale. I hope so, but somehow doubt it.

We all enjoyed scrambling over the causeway and really does look man-made. Is the place a ‘must- see’? Yes, but not quite as mind blowing as I had been expecting somehow.

The Causeway

Adopting the traditional ‘Boys on Tour’ stance

A bit of mountain goatary

From North to South

Back to the BMWs and we moved on. Heading around the stunning coastal route, passing the ruins of castles as we rode. We skirted the town of Derry, or Londonderry depending on your point of view. In the dark days when ‘The Troubles’ were at their peak, this was a real flashpoint.

The whole section was a joy to ride and to behold. We crossed seamlessly over into The Republic Ireland. Somehow with the aftereffects of Brexit I had expected something like a passport control point, but nope. One minute the road signs where in miles the next there were in kilometres. The villages and small towns we passed through suddenly took on a different character. The north had a feel more akin to Scotland or the IoM, whereas here it seemed subtlety more rural, and the pace of life felt like it had been turned down a notch. I like that.

The pictures speak for themselves really, this is just a small selection

Ireland’s Route 66

We generally stuck to the ‘Wild Atlantic Way’, a well signposted route that takes you along the edge of the coast. Sort of Ireland’s answer to Route 66! Those of you wanting a thrilling ride, go elsewhere. However, if you just want to take it and feel the vibe, you are very much in the right place.

We skirted the outer edges of Glenveagh National Park, we mainly stuck on the N56 and some the ‘R’ roads that branched off it.

Things did speed up a little as hit the last section of the road, the N15, from Donegal to Grange on the road to Sligo. But after a long day of riding, it felt good to pull up on the frontage of Moran’s Bar, our digs for the evening.

We quickly unpacked our gear, sorted our rooms and met up at the on site take-away for some food before heading off into the busy bar for a couple of well-earned pints. We all took to a bitter called Smithwick’s. The local’s and staff were super friendly, and we got chatting to a few interesting folks in the bar.

My first pint of the ‘Black Stuff’ in my ancestral homeland 

The perfect way to round off a superb day of riding.

Words: Tony Donnelly

Pictures: Tony Donnelly & Andy Preece

https://www.titanicbelfast.com/

https://www.causewaycoastalroute.com/

https://www.northwest200.org/

https://www.nmrn.org.uk/visit-us/hms-caroline

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HMS_Caroline_(1914)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Titanic

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giant%27s_Causeway

The last morning in Charleville-Mezieres passed uneventfully; after bit of breakfast and then loading our kit onto the bikes we steeled ourselves for the 300km haul to the French coast. As we pulled away the beautiful young hotel receptionist cried and screamed as she begged me to stay. Oh hang on, I had run over her foot. This bit might be bullshit.

Homeward Bound.

Tomorrow we catch the ferry home. Never the best feeling on a biking holiday, but pretty much unavoidable unless you are going to some sort of  biker version of a Reggie Perrin! (Those under forty look it up…).  Today was about kilometre crunching. Even though we did get a bit damp for a bit, around 80km or so, the real ‘excitement’ came when trying to get fuel for Geeg’s thirsty Thundercat. Ever since his  spill a few months previously, the carb set up had been out. As a result he had consistently used more fuel than my similar model.

Not a problem for the rest of the trip but today for some reason we struggled to find open fuel stations. He was running on fumes for miles. The sat-nav wasn’t helping either as it kept directing us to ‘petrol-stations’ in sleepy backwaters that had, in fact closed. One ‘petrol-station’  boasted one (disused) pump for paraffin or something, not petrol!

Not the most glamorous day of biking

Out with the maps again as we tried to find the Dunkirk Museum

When Defeat Feels Like Victory

To make something of the day we decided to take a look at Dunkirk. Here, Operation Dynamo took place during WW2. The an armada of ‘little-ships’ plucked thousands of British and French troops from the beaches right from under the noses of the advancing German Army. We found a little, but very interesting museum near the beaches and had a hour or so in there.

Good to see the memories and the sacrifice of both the military and civilians been treasured by the locals. The beach itself looks very normal now. I found it hard to imagine the harrowing scenes that unfolded here as men fought to escape the advancing Nazis. All the time been bombarded from all sides. It was reminiscent of our visits to Normandy to visit the beaches that hosted Operation Overlord (D-Day). By then the boot was very much on the other foot…

Turns out it was the place with the ferkin big gun outside funnily enough…

In we go…

Rare French Army outfit

Turns out we had accidentally followed the route of the German advance in 1940…that’s trusting a BMW Sat Nav for you!

We made or way up to see the evacuation beaches too…hard to imagine what went on here back in June 1940

Where’d They all Go?

From here it was a short hop to our hotel, but we managed to get split up on the outskirts of Calais. Not really sure how: Andy who was leading on his BMW,  was there in front of me one moment. We went around an island and then ‘poof’ he was gone! The bike has some clever electronic trickery, but I don’t recall the cloaking device! We had taken different exits: Matt also went AWOL on his GS.

Geeg was still with me and for the next twenty minutes or so we are bombed about looking for each other. Geeg and I finally hooked up with Andy. However Matt had stayed on the main road. We phoned him and thanks to the joy of a crash helmet fitted with Bluetooth  managed to speak to him. He was still riding blissfully into the distance. We agreed to meet at the hotel….

Rounding up the lost sheep

Fun Cut Short Abruptly

We all rocked up at the Campanile eventually and went to check in. Now I have stayed in Campanile hotels before and they are generally pretty decent. This one wasn’t…the rooms were ok, a bit dated but ok. But the customer service? Woeful: Slow, rude On top of  that much of what was advertised on the menu (both drinks and food), simply wasn’t available. We were too tired to move on and we had trouble finding anywhere in any case! We ate what they had available and settled down to watch the Wales game from Euro 2016 live on a big screen. Only to be told about 15 minutes from the end they were shutting up the bar for the night. They had decked the place out in European flags and put up a big screen! Why shut it down so early? Odd…

It was more comfortable here than in the bar…

The bikes had done us all proud

But the hotel was at least close to the ferry port. We passed the migrant camp again, but could see it more clearly on the way in than we had on the outward leg of the trip. It made us feel uncomfortable. We  felt like we were on the set of a film like ‘The Hunger Games’ or ‘District 9’ and there was a privileged few and mass of people not so lucky. It wasn’t a great feeling to be honest. We also had some drama with Geeg’s booking we got on the boat ok in the end.

Homeward bound

Last Chance for the traditional ‘Sh!t Boy Band pic….F*ck That on tour!

I see no ships…

After the Brexit Vote these took on a new significance, bit of Dame Vera anybody??

Happy Ending

The crossing was smooth and gave us time to reflect on another cracking trip. Despite patchy weather we had got in some great riding in spectacular locations, visited some stunning places and had some real laughs. Loads of stuff for the memory banks. All of the bikes had missed a beat and apart from one very minor incident nothing had got broken either. Once back in ‘Blighty’ we were treated to the traditional damp, slippy pot-holed of the UK.

One last rest halt

Back to reality boys the ride is over. But the memories will linger forever. Roll on the next trip!

Thanks to Matt, Geeg and Andy for putting up with me!

Words and Pictures: Tony Donnelly

The educational and helpful bits

WTF is Reggie Perrin:
https://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/fallandriseofreginaldperrin/

Operation Dynamo:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dunkirk_evacuation

Operation Overlord:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Overlord

The Normandy Bike Trips
https://bikemeet.net/forums/topic/normandy-review-days-12-visiting-the-invasion-beaches/
https://bikemeet.net/forums/topic/normandy-run-days-34-respect-on-our-minds/

The bits about films:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Hunger_Games_(film_series)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/District_9

After the fun in parts one and two the trip continues:

The trip was going well so far, even if we had done a little less riding and not got as far into Germany as we had hoped. Amusingly our enjoyable final breakfast in Trier was served by a convincing if unintentional Shania Twain look alike! But all too soon it was time to hit the road.

Day 7 – We Under-estimated an Entire Country

This morning we were leaving Germany and heading for France on roads that gently meandered through Luxembourg. I have always thought of Luxembourg as just a city and little else, and while it is a small country it does boast some open countryside. Lovely rolling hills, lined with forests; the place has a relaxed air to it, lightly trafficked so our pace was pretty gentle to be honest. At one point we pulled up just to have a break and take it all in. There was a forest track right next to us and but for a gate blocking their way I suspect our two BMW riders might have gone for it!

The wide open spaces of…Luxembourg? Who knew?

We picked our way through several sleepy villages as we crossed the border over into Belgium and had a lunch halt in the pretty, but bustling little town of Neufchateu (literally Newcastle). The sun and heat were building up by now, in stark contrast to some of the earlier days on our trip. Typically British; the weather is never right for us…now it was too hot. So it was with some relief that we tucked into a baguette and an ice cold drink. We watched the world go by, the towns square filled with the sound of children at play from a traditional small school backing right onto the market square.

Goes Well for a Veteran

The roads became a little more challenging after lunch and I was enjoying myself throwing the 600 about. It goes so well for such an old bike, it will be 19 years old next birthday! After a hundred klicks or so we came across the pretty little Belgian village of Bullion. It nestles on the Semois River and is watched over by a medieval castle. Quite a spot to park up in for a while.

Semois River guarded over by the hill top fort, looks quite stunning on a day like this…

The Heat of the Moment

It was here that we had the only unfortunate incident of the trip with the bikes: Geeg, as he pulled in to park up, his Thundercat ‘fainted’ in the heat and toppled over. He was briefly trapped underneath his bike, but Matt sped to the rescue whilst I stared gormlessly at the unfolding situation. Luckily no harm done to bike or rider. We all needed to cool down for a while, so was good to have a break. I was pretty well bar-be-qued by now and found a local chemist and bought huge bottles of wildly expensive sun cream and after-sun to cool my burning brow. I swear to God it literally sizzled as I applied it!

High Speed Curves to Farm Tracks

Once we had cooled down a bit we re-mounted the bikes and were soon on some fabulous roads, amongst the best of the trip. However it was still baking hot and I wasn’t fully on the ball to really enjoy them to the max. One long, long seemingly never ending right-hander sticks in the memory. Later Andy was filled with glee when the sat-nav took us down a full on track. We did have to turn back and find tarmac, but I am sure the BMW boys would have loved to have pressed on!

By the time we got to our destination for the day, Charleville-Mezieres I was really fully over heated as temperatures hit the mid 30’s. I was getting a bit wound up as we looked for our hotel on the initially baffling one-way system. Yes, I finally had my ‘blue sparkly dress’ moment and threw a proper strop. However once we found the hotel and parked in the cool underground car park I was fine. Especially when we were greeted by a particularly stunning and charming receptionist. I am sure she was just as smitten with me: Who can the resist the allure of a short fat 50 year old bloke standing in a pool of his own sweat?

Impressive Location

We dumped our stuff in our (excellent) rooms, freshened up and headed into the centre of town. Wow, what a stunning place, truly magnificent. Dominated by the Place Ducale, a square of quite massive proportions with each of the four sides lined with the most beautiful of buildings.

Pretty impressive you have to agree

The choice of eateries was almost too great so we asked a very friendly local plod who pointed in the direction of his personal favourite. It was a good call! The food was fantastic, the beer strong . We enjoyed watching the world go by as we ate and the square seemed to  be the focal point for all the local posers: They enjoyed tearing around in ‘souped-up’ hatchbacks and mopeds with screaming exhausts.

The local plod pointed us in the right direction. Thanks!

We were soon down to business and Matt was happy despite his appearance to the contrary!

Today was the day of the Brexit vote back home and it was ironic that we were sat here, four Brits abroad. In fact once back at the hotel we got into a interesting debate with a local gentleman. How much he wanted us to stay part of the project was quite touching. Europe had been torn apart once before he said, he didn’t want it to happen again. Let’s see what the morning would  bring…

Day 8 – Independence Day!

We awoke to the news that UK had voted out. I must admit I was a little shocked. This was probably the biggest event politically in Europe since the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, or the even the end of WW2 perhaps. But down at breakfast all seemed normal! Funny old world sometimes. All the locals were still talking to us. Andy was moaning that he had a bit of headache, apparently brought on by a lack of water… The small part that several strong lagers consumed the night before had played in this scenario was conveniently overlooked! An excellent breakfast seemed to aid his recovery as did the time we spent planning the next stop. We struggled to get a room for the next over night halt, but got sorted in the end after one place initially took our booking and called back to say they were actually full. Deep joy!

Pivotal Ground

Today we enjoyed a cracking days riding as headed along some great tarmac in and around the Ardennes Forest. This area has so often been pivotal in the history of Europe: The Battle of the Bulge of late 1944 perhaps the most famous occasion. Then Nazi Germany made its last big counter-attack in WW2. Somehow you could sense that history, it is odd but true. The place has a haunting atmosphere. I can’t put my figure on how, but it really does.

Just good to be on a bike on day like this, with this kind of countryside to play in

There was a good mix of roads again. During the afternoon things really opened out and some points we were flying along, especially Geeg; he was really motoring. I am pretty sure this was his best day on the bike of the whole trip. The roads through the Ardennes Forest were pretty spooky in places and we came across a preserved ‘Armoured House’ that had been in the path of the German advance of 1940. It looked like it had taken a bit of a battering!

Into Belgium

We enjoyed lunch in a pretty little Belgian town of Bohan on the River Semois as our day saw us hoping over the border a couple of times.

Pretty little place, ideal for a lunch halt

Andy seems to be enjoying his GS

The Armoured House, complete with a shell hole courtesy of a Panzer II or III in 1940!

The Forest had a sense of history about it, this is the road the German Army advanced along in 1940, a route they had used before WW2

Geeg in particular enjoyed the blast today

Back at the Hotel another larger group of British lads on bikes rolled in. We exchanged a bit of banter with them and tipped them off about the restaurant we had used the night before. As for us we wound up back in the same square ourselves having had a wonder around the slightly less spectacular side streets. Here we enjoyed another super meal in the next restaurant up from the one we ate in the first night.

He had earned this one….

Lifesaver!

It was a good night: Matt even managed to save a young child from running under the wheels of one the cars posing around the square. The evening rounded off back in the hotel lobby enjoying a few more beers with an older British couple. They were not bikers, but enjoyed our tales about the places we had been. Sadly our trip was entering its’ final fling and in the morning we would be turning for home.

Words and Pictures: Tony Donnelly

The educational bits:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bouillon

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ardennes

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charleville-M%C3%A9zi%C3%A8res

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_the_Bulge