2 weeks, 4 Challenges

I have gone from wondering what comes next to facing the most intense challenge period of the year.

9 November
Athens Marathon - you all know what one of these is. A separate post about the background should be up next week.

15 November
Now, I've heard a few theories about the best way to recover after a marathon. They include drinking about 2 litres of water immediately after finishing, light exercise (swimming is particularly good) the day after to break down lactic acid and getting a lot of rest. What no one seems to have suggested yet is running up the 60 storeys of the tallest structure in Austria 6 days later. I am putting that down to a lack of research in the area rather than it being a bloody stupid idea.

18 November
They say that you can burn up to 2600 calories running a marathon. So with that and the Tower Run I will clearly need to get some food in me. Lucky then that the British Mince Pie Eating Championship takes place just a few days later. One mince pie contains 20% of the Government guideline for saturated fat (have you ever noticed how if it's good for you it is measured as RDA, if it's bad for you it's a Government Guideline?). The world record for mince pies eaten in 10 minutes is 48. I won't hit that marker but should down enough to give Gillian McKeith cause for concern.

For all the scoffers (do you see what I did there?) this is a proper competition. First prize gets £1000 and a place in American gastrogames (competing with professional eaters). I am taking this as seriously as any of the other challenges and so will be genuinely training for it - the best competitors treat it like a sport and are not just bloaters. Also the event will be about as spectator friendly as it gets this year so take the day off and watch me be very sick.

23 November
Back to the physical stuff. I have done a triathlon, I will have done a marathon so it would be rude not to go for the clean sweep and take on a duathlon. But not a nice clean road duathlon. I have done enough running and cycling on hard surfaces, that would not be a new challenge. This is cross country running and mountain biking. A nice twist and, judging by recent weather, it could be messy. So far arse and knees are not aware of their return to the saddle. I like to surprise my body parts.


I am hoping to have a bit of news on some other work in progress stuff fairly soon and, in the next few days will be confirming the grand finale. Exciting times so, don't miss out on reading all about me - subscribe.

A short post at last

Now I'm not saying that I influence controversial biological thinking - that's for others to point out - but this was posted on 15 July and this month articles like this have been appearing in the news.

Coincidence or has this blog got a wider readership than Kelly and my Auntie Sue?

Help needed. Enquire within.

This year has had a significant impact on my mental state. I am constantly looking for challenges, and regretting missing them. On there tube adverts Multibionta are imploring the public to take their challenge. Every time I see it I think ‘Ok, I will’. If Pepsi were still setting up stalls in town centres I’d be throwing even more money at my dentist than I already have done this year and if a struggling TV presenter turned up at my door with a box of Daz then my whites would have taken on a radioactive glow. Or at least, that would happen if I didn’t recognise these all to be marketing ploys.

But it is frustrating when I miss out on genuine challenges.

Just yesterday I missed the World Porridge Making Championship and the World Conker Championship because I found out about them too late. I have missed tower running (although Austria is being considered) and I have missed Wacky Races style driving challenges. I realise I can’t do everything but the year is running out and I have a few spare weekends. In fact the only definite one at the moment is a marathon. I hope to confirm a few more soon (subscribe to find out if they happen).

So I need help – suggest a challenge, the requirements are simple, cerebral, physical it doesn’t matter it just needs to be something that you can’t just turn up and do. A bit of planning or training is required to achieve a definite end – and there does need a definite end. I’ll consider but not necessarily do everything. As examples, a few I have been trying to set up, without success, are:

1. a world record attempt - I’ll consider pretty much anything but oldest or youngest whatever will be a bit tricky.

2. a quiz show appearance. I have been trying to get on some without success but don’t really watch them so don’t know what is around at the moment. Can anyone suggest a good one? I realise it might be too late for filming this year but you never know.

3. a speaking line on a television show/film preferably with swearing – because that would be big and clever.

Send me an email, leave a comment. Help me.

Ireland; South to North and Inside Out - The Warm Down

I'll go the signed route. I don't want to get lost out here. Particularly not in the wind and rain. Anyway, maybe Malin has buses. It wasn't tiny. No buses in Malin, maybe Culdaff, maybe Gleneely. I guess I'm going to Moville, that's a big palce it must have a bus. Moville is not as big as it looks, where will I find a toilet. The library - that must have one. [The library did not have a toilet but the librarian let me through the back to use his because "if any bastard has ever looked like they need the feckin' toilet it's you"]. I hope the ferries are still running because it looks like I'm going to Coleraine by bike.

Ferry is there and going despite the weather, so pleased I could not face going back to Londonderry. Back into Northern Ireland then. And a border here, although nobody is checking documents, just car boots. Follow the coastal road. AAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH, the wind ,the rain, my knees. I'm glad this is a quiet road - shouting seems to help.

Whoever named Downhill is a liar, or they only approached it going in the opposite direction to me. All these signs for the Giant's Causeway, I'd go if I wasn't so desperate to get off this bike and stay off it.

Coleraine - that was 50 miles I could really have done without. Another ugly place, what is it about Northern Ireland that means the villages and small towns are lovely but the big towns and cities are hideous. But it has a bus station and a train station, direct to Belfast, that's all I need. I'll go tomorrow. Tonight is for celebrating, just me, a pint of Guiness and two choc-ices. The bike can stay at the hotel.

Ireland; South to North and Inside Out - Day 5

That hotel was essentially an independent Travel Lodge but it was where I needed it to be just at the time I was beginning to worry so I will always remember it fondly. It also had a sign just outside it pointing me to Malin Head and so provided me with my first indication that I'm nearing the end of this glorious torture. Disasters aside, this should be my final day of cycling, I don't think it can be more than 40 miles. AAAARRGH, my knees, the left one in particular. This is going to be like Tuesday but I'm too close to stop now. Push on and hope the endorphins kick in.

What defines crying? Surely it needs a degree of intention to be it. People cry even if they don't want to, of course, but there has to be the sense within them that something has got too much. I am a man. I am a man who, amongst so many other things, has done Tough Guy, swum Alcatraz, completed a triathlon and am now cycling Ireland and so I do not cry. If my eyes are watering because of the pain it is a completely involuntary, unwanted physiological reaction and therefore not crying. No.

[When on the flat or going uphill, (i.e. when pedalling) for the next 30 odd miles I only had one thought] Ouch, any further and I would stop.

[When freewheeling my thoughts were more varied but mostly along the lines of] This is stunning again. Crossing the peninsula, surrounded by heather and bracken, the smell, the view out to sea. Please don't let me have to pedal, let me enjoy the end.

I'm really close to Malin Head now. I wasn't expecting it to look like this. Far more populated and busy than Mizen Head was. Malin itself is so far away from the Head, so many buildings and indeed villages between. What do these people do? The ones that are not farmers. This is it - one last climb. What a climb. So steep. I think those endorphins are working because my knees aren't as bad now. Any water around my eyes is from this rain. I guess I will finish as I started - wet. At least I can see the sea this time.

Cars are constantly coming and going - why would anybody come here? There is nothing to do and you can see cliffs and sea all over Ireland. The South West and Sperrins had more appeal and they were nearer civilisation, proper civilisation, those houses don't count you wouldn't stay here. Ah, yes, getting back to civilisation. Time to face the one thought I have been suppressing every time it popped by. The wind has picked up, the rain is pummelling, the driven focus to complete the challenge has gone but there is only one way out of here, one way to get off this bike and give my knees a rest. Challenge complete but the cycling isn't.

Ireland; South to North and Inside Out - Day 4

I’m so pleased that they didn’t do breakfast. The room was so dirty that I would be suspicious of the state of the kitchen. It does make you wonder what they think the second B in B&B stands for.

I’ll walk to the road, work out my direction. I hate my knees. The muscles are fine, the weather is fine, everything would be perfect if it wasn’t for the pain they are giving me. Still the choc-ice seems to have helped [in an effort to reduce the swelling and ease the pain I had spent an hour or so before going to sleep with a compression bandage on my right knee, leg raised over my head and a choc-ice shoved in the bandage until it melted to nothing (the choc-ice was still in the wrapper)]. This part of town looks much nicer, I stopped too early, I bet that B&B does breakfast. I’m actually scared of getting on the bike, I’ll just get to Lisnaskea and take stock there. At least I’ll be in the UK so my lack of travel insurance won’t be a problem if I need to speak to a doctor. Ok knees here we go. I can’t believe this, the left one hurts more than the right. Two choc-ices tonight.

There are so many crows in Ireland, or they might be jackdaws, ravens, maybe rooks. Chris will know, I’ll ask him. Hang on, that’s a British speed limit sign, miles per hour. I must have crossed the border. There was nothing to indicate it. That Polish coal for sale sign over there is in Euros, but this is a BT phone box. I must be on the border. Britain, abroad, Britain, abroad. Nothing to show it but the clues are there. 10km to Lisnaskea, what’s that in miles? No, that is miles, so what’s that in kilometres?

Time for breakfast. Where did I put my sterling? Milk and I need some carbs. Potato farls, bread and potato sounds like a traditional food, also sounds a bit like farts, two excellent reasons to buy it. My knees aren’t as bad as yesterday afternoon. I reckon I can get to Fivemiletown, and then maybe Omagh. I’ll take stock again at Omagh. So Green road to Fivemiletown and then white road [B-roads] to Omagh. In Omagh I’ll get some Euros, some sterling and some pain relief cream, maybe another compression bandage too. Where did this rain come from, it was sunny a moment ago. Bloody British weather.

This is rivalling the climb at Caha Pass. No it’s not, that’s a lie. But it is steep, and wet and the scenery is incredible so there are similarities. That’s a good place for a windfarm – also nice to reach the peak. The windmills look like giants, I think Cervantes got to that one first. I’m with you Don Quixote. But for now downhill. What a downhill, wet and winding road but no cars, I can go as fast as I like. No fear just get lost in the moment. I’m 12 again.

Omagh is bigger than I expected, or at least the outskirts are. Like so many places the centre itself is just a High Street. This one though is sadly familiar, even though I have never been here before. I think I must be standing exactly where the film footage was shot – the view down the hill towards the church. Thought provoking rather than moving. A proper banana at last. The Republic’s were adequate but a bit over-ripe and small but still infinitely better than the green, manky excuse for a banana that they were offering in the Scottish Highlands. Oh, hi. Nice pyjamas [I had just been approached by a middle-aged man who looked like he was on a day out from a hippy colony]. 40km to Londonderry. That doesn’t sound right and you look a little kooky but I would expect you know better than me and you seem like a very nice guy, and I don’t want it to be far so I’m going to believe you. Only 24 miles to go and my knees held up ok, time for the last leg so next target is Londonderry, less than 2 hours to go. That pain cream has done nothing and my knee has stiffened up. If I go on the white road I’ll pass through a decent number of villages and no doubt they will have B&Bs I can stay at if it gets too bad. So let’s go scenic and be careful.

I don’t mind these climbs now. I don’t know why they bothered me so much a couple of days ago (is it really only a couple of days). They are worth it for the views, and the downhill. Today is on a par with day one for beautiful scenery. People who travel to holiday in Ireland should make a point of taking in Northern, it is a stunning place. So much to distract a cyclist with painful knees. The villages are all at the bottom of the hill. There must be a historic reason – Paul will know. All of the villages are dressed in red and white. The hand painted signs wish Tyrone good luck. Is there a County not in a cup final?

Five steep hills in an afternoon is enough for anybody. I’m not going to be able to find a B&B in a place as large as Londonderry, I’ll stop at the village before it. Oh, nothing here and purple pyjamas was wrong, this is over 30 miles and counting. Wow, I wasn’t expecting that, Derry is stunning. Churches, a cathedral, all on the river of a historic walled city, there must be somewhere to stay. I should even break the Indian/Chinese monotony. Last push for the day.

Hmm, not so pretty up close but all I need is a B&B and restaurant. Maybe a pub too. I’ve no idea where to start, maybe if I just follow the road that I will take tomorrow and see what’s on that. Shit my cleat has jammed, I’m going over. That really hurt. Lucky I have bandages on my knees already. Probably looked quite funny, better on this road than the busy one I was joining. B&B – perfect and not too far from the centre. Hi, do you have any…oh sorry you don’t work here. No rooms, crap. Nowhere nearby, everywhere full. I will travel some distance for something, yes, I don’t really seem to have a choice. I’m never going to follow that, you have already described two different routes, these must be the worst directions ever. Thank her and get out, it would be nice to find somewhere before it gets dark.

I’ll give her directions 5 more minutes. Although these might not actually be what she said. It’s cold and it’s dark and this is taking me away from the road I want tomorrow. Sod it, I’m going back and will just follow that. Londonderry has just been bad luck, I must be able to find something, some time if I go towards Malin Head.

Back in the Republic. I’m glad I got Euros in Omagh. Hang on, that’s Bridgend, where she said the hotel is. And in fact there it is. How did that happen? And a proper restaurant next door, not Chinese or Indian. Just in time, it’s really dark. Please have a vacancy. Through Londonderry, in and out of Northern Ireland in one day, 101 miles. So much for a shorter day. My knees feel better now than they did this morning (aside from the blood coming out of the left when following that fall). All in all a very good day. [Those worried about my diet will be relieved to know that night I had local venison covered in neither a curry sauce or MSG, and very nice it was too]

Ireland; South to North and Inside Out - Day 3

That was a very experienced B&B owner. Absolutely lovely and had staged the house to be a perfect balance of personal house and guest house. Everything ran like clockwork and breakfast was set up so you did not need to ask for anything. I wonder why that American couple didn’t talk to me at breakfast. I wonder why they didn’t talk to each other. Breakfast was enormous again. Portion sizes have been massive at every meal so far. One dish in a restaurant will comfortably feed two. Maybe that is where it all went wrong in America. The Irish emigrated, taking with them their generosity with food. The Americans were too polite to say turn it down and the result, obesity.

My muscles feel pretty good but my right knee is hurting a lot. Target town is Athlone, the weather looks like it could go either way. Starting on a green road, it’s maroon and white flags around here but hurling rather than football and I guess they won judging by last night [whilst I was having one of the two pints of Guiness I would allow myself each night a convoy of cars, police and a large coach went past the pub with a lot of flag waving and horn beeping. The locals glanced, made a sardonic comment and returned to their pints]. I have no idea what Comagie is but they have also reached the final of that. [The Internet has not been very helpful on this, not even the ever reliable Wikipedia, but it looks like it’s just a different name for hurling]

My knee really is struggling. This is bad. I’m going to have to see how this goes but will have to be careful, it’s not worth long term damage. Ballinasloe looks nice. It also means I am out of Galway, into Roscommon. I trust my chances of safety on the roads are better here. National Ploughing Championship taking place here in 2 weeks time. Could I enter that?

Maybe the knee strain is because I put the saddle back too high. I’ll lower it next time I stop. It’s raining, I’ll stop now. “Last garage to the motorway” – what motorway? The map doesn’t show a motorway anywhere near here. This could be trouble. I know Athlone has a dual carriageway and I need to go on that but not a motorway. Actually that dual carriageway is more than dual, it does look like a motorway. I need junction 4 and there is no alternative. The next target town is Cavan.

County Longford, 21 deaths in 4 years, I like those odds. Ballymahon for lunch, not much of a place but it has a one-stop shop so no yoghurt issues today.

Since stopping for lunch my knee is agony. I could cry. If it stays like this thgen it is the end. What a place for it to happen, or more precisely what a non-place for it to happen. There is nowhere really between here and Cavan, I have to get to Cavan and that must be at least 30 miles. Maybe that First Aid kit has paracetamol, it does, that might help. I’m not really sure what it does but I hope it blocks pain or magically stops it. I think lowering the seat was a mistake, I’ll put it back. What does that sign say 40km to Cavan, what’s that in miles? Oh, crap – I could be hitchhiking if this gets any worse. Only about 2 hours still to go. Just keep going. Wow, cat’s eyes look a lot like Wall-E’s head.

That sign said Longford has had 23 deaths. I wonder which is correct. Either way the statistics must be pre-quarry traffic because they are terrifying me. Granard seems to be the quarry town so I should be safe when I’ through here. Shit, that was cl….he’s got a trailer [if my bike hadn’t been serviced just before leaving there would at this point have been the sound of squeaking brakes and skidding] You prick, is my dayglo yellow top not bright enough for you to see? I don’ want to become just a number on a board at a County boundary. Even that legacy only lasts 4 years and then you can be scrubbed from the records forever.

1.5 hours, just keep going. This musty be the longest version of The Magic Number ever. I really need to get that iPod sorted.

1 hour to go and the left knee seems to be giving out too. I thought the road would get flatter as I moved inland but this is constant up and down. So slow now. Holstein/Friesians [in checking spelling I have uncovered a whole world I did not know about as to the breed name of the black and white cows so common on farms] are the flightiest cows, they run from me whilst the others stand and watch with their patronising, pitying eyes.

Half an hour, twenty minutes. I’m going to make this. I can see a church spire. And this is Cavan. Not since that nightclub in Reading spun it’s last block rocking beat has Utopia looked so shit. I don’t feel very safe here. It is all locals and the restaurants just look rubbish. This town is sort of Roddy Doyle meats Irvine Welsh. I can’t do Chinese again and it will take more than this to get a kebab in my mouth so I guess it is Indian by default.

[At dinner] This is not looking promising. You don’t know what lager you sell, you’ve just put “Last Christmas” on the hi-fi, you are telling me that an Irish Naan is exactly the same as plain Naan despite it costing €2 more than the plain Naan you have on the menu. I wish there was an alternative and then I could just leave. Although that would involve walking and my knee is not in favour of that. I’m not sure I can do tomorrow. Average speed and distance are definitely going to be down. 89 miles today but I don’t know how. I can’t stay in Cavan, it’s the Ireland that the tourist board doesn’t want you to see. Which is fair because it’s also the Ireland that tourists don’t want to see.

Ireland; South to North and Inside Out - Day 2

There was something of the care home rather than guest home about that B&B, the people were nice though and I liked my fellow resident, [he was a jovial Dublin voluntary worker who was helping out with a big special needs outward bounds holiday at a field centre just outside Tralee]. First target today is Listowel, there is racing on there today, maybe I could watch it. That would lose me the day though, probably not a good idea. It is tempting though. I’m going to have to get there early though to avoid the traffic. Legs are fine but knees hurt a bit. That can’t be good because that’s joints and so only likely to get worse. Still that is definitely blue sky up there, the first I have seen in Ireland – a promising start. Uphill grind of course – my legs already feel like the night’s rest did not happen. If I can get to Listowel and then on to the ferry at Tarbet I will have an enforced break. Weather looking good, I wonder how long my iPod will last. Why didn’t it charge? The charger worked fine for the phone and the connections were fine. I guess I probably have two hours. I’ll try to find another charger somewhere, there must be some sort of Irish equivalent to Currys in most of these towns.

Not much in Listowel, traffic or life generally. iPod is holding out so on to the ferry. The smells, you only notice the strong ones in a car. Yesterday it was pine, now the sea. It’s like Mr Airwick’s wet dream. Shame the road here is so bad, my arse is taking a real pounding, not good for so early in the day. It’s also a shame I couldn’t find where I put my mud guards because I’m pretty sure that is pig shit flicking up now. The smell certainly suggests it is, Mr Airwick won’t like that one so much. The ferry is there, result. It looks like its only cars, please take bikes. Not so keen on the decline down to it, not in cycling shoes, don’t slip, just don’t slip. There is another bike on there, they allow them, I think it is going to be a good day. iPod is still going too. I should stop it while I’m not cycling but my hands are too numb to press the button.

You’re wearing socks and sandals and I am prejudiced against you because of that. But you might be interesting and I don’t have a lot of choice in this because you are going to talk to me. Please be genial eccentric rather than nutter. I have had a good run on meeting interesting people so far, should be ok. Oh, you’re on a cycling holiday too, from Surrey, 18th time in Ireland. The information you potentially have could be very useful to me, but please tell me it without spitting every other word. No, it’s no good. I don’t care what you are telling me the saliva spraying from your yellow teeth has focused my every sense. I don’t know why that includes hearing but it does. We’ve arrived, I need to wash my face, that will give him a chance to go. Oh crap, he’s waiting for me. No I don’t want a coffee, I just want your festering germs off my face. [Having escaped to the café toilets I returned to my bike] he’s still here, but hooray for lonely café staff, he has somebody else to talk to, time to make my excuses, she’s beaten me to it, he wants to know where I’m going – what if he is going the same way and wants to ride with me? Find out his route first. It is the same. Lie. This is like that scene in Bugsy Malone when Blousie is trying to escape Bugsy. This one isn’t ending in a pie fight, a full cast sing-a-long and a trip to Hollywood, go before he does and cycle quickly.

Faster, faster, if he plans to stop in Innis [which was my next target town] then if I can get through there before he catches me I should be fine. Was he r name Blousie? Blousie Brown – sounds like a stale loaf of bread. I can barely even remember if I’ve seen a film these days but still know the script from a film I probably haven’t seen in 20 years. [Turns out I got the name right but the spelling wrong – Blousey].

Nice graveyard, pretty full, standing room only now. Strange seeing as there isn’t a house in sight. Hmm, the graveyard admiration gene that appears to be active within me. I wonder if it is dominant or recessive? I wonder why I wondered. Irish graveyards do look pretty interesting though, but at least I didn’t stop. I daren’t. I’m sure I’ll see another one past Innis. I’ll get a photo – actually that might be a little bit weird. iPod has died. Is that irony? I can’t tell any more.

This weather is so different. It’s really hot. I need to lose the leggings. Where though? this is a green road and all those houses and all those builders. Lissycasey looks like a completely new town, odd place. Ouch, my eye [a wasp had just flown into it], that really hurts. I think it was as shocked as I was – too stunned to sting at least. Maybe I could hide behind a bush or, even better, a random and hideous horse statue. Come on hands, work quicker, I need to get to Innis.

These towns are definitely getting less tourist focused. Innis has no obvious gift shops or wacky green felt hats anywhere. It does have a reasonable proportion of young mum’s. Maybe it should twin with Basingstoke. No problem with bananas but nowhere is selling yoghurt [my scientifically calculated nutritionally balanced lunch each day consisted of 2 bananas, a yoghurt and a bottle of lucozade sport]. Safe now – Spitty will stop here. On to Gort.

Why does it look like I’m joining a motorway – the map definitely said green road. Maybe if I’m stopped the Garda will give me a lift to Gort.

This is the dullest bit of road so far but at least it’s stopped looking like a motorway. Nearly 2.5 times as many people died on the roads of County Galway than County Kerry in the last 4 years, I’m not surprised these are easily the worst drivers yet [this is not a statistic I just happened to know, most of the Counties in Ireland have a board up somewhere telling you this information]. Gort is ugly, this must be the first town not to have won a Tidy Town Medal. So they don’t just hand them out like medals to the children who try hard at school sports days [up to this point just about every town had a sign when you enter it announcing it had won a medal of some description in the Irish Tidy Town competition of 200X] but I don’t care I need to stop for 5 minutes, maybe 10 minutes, my legs really ache. I still have time to get to Loughlea. One last push. Dogs must have innately know not to jump off the back of a moving truck. There’s no way that can have evolved. Not enough time, although the process would be pretty quick seeing as any dog that jumps out is not going to be passing on its genes any time soon.

This hurts. This really hurts. My knees hurt, and that is joint. My arse feels like it has been sandblasted [just to be clear this was a metaphor – I have never had my arse sandblasted] and this road surface is terrible. Oww, avoid the bloody cat’s eyes. I don’t care uphill, downhill just get to Loughrea.

At last, there it is. It looks fantastic. I’d rather it was this side of the Lough but what a great view. Where did the sun go? Blue sky but so cold. There was no sunset – it just vanished. I hope this isn’t cataclysmic, I’d rather the world didn’t end with me wearing cycling shorts and having a sore arse. I assume that they allow you to change before passing through the pearly gates. I bet it has really nice changing rooms and a wide selection of clothes for every taste. I suppose it would have to be a department store. I hope the accessories section is good.

Hmm, Loughrea looks a bit of a let down. I guess it is going to be Chinese again tonight, without question the most disappointing of all Anglicised cuisines (is there an Irish equivalent, gaelicised maybe?)

That meal has done nothing to change my mind. And the fortune cookie is stale, “Be patient and optimistic, you have a strong appeal to the opposite sex”. Nice, clearly they have a special table for one pile.

Ireland; South to North and Inside Out - Day 1

Breakfast at 9, I’ll nip down to Mizen Head and back first. Some signposts would be nice, this can’t be the quickest route, nice beach, I bet if it wasn’t pouring down this would look nice. Left my iPod at the B&B. I wonder if I’ll see a car, or person. Quick photo and go. How can the batteries be dead? I haven’t taken a picture. The spares are at the B&B, shake them, that works, or at least I can get a quick snap. Not that a picture will show much, apparently the red sandstone cliffs and coastline will take my breath away but the cloud is so low that I can’t even see the sea. Ok time to leave, get the challenge officially started. Time to get breakfast.

[After a full Irish at the B&B] very Atkins friendly [I headed off properly].

It’s wet but not windy at least. First target town is Kenmare [the number of potential things that could go wrong meant that I hadn’t planned a route, I was just selecting a target town to aim for before each leg]. I’m glad I remembered I have the iPod. 8pt Agenda, good first song, although maybe not complimentary to the beautiful landscape. I wonder if I’ll see a car before I reach the N71. Here’s the N71, there’s a car. That must be an impressive ancient anchor to merit its own road sign, maybe I should stop. Is that it? I’ve seen better anchors and 1796 isn’t really very ancient. Bantry Golf Club, designed by Christie O’Connor Jr. He always looked a nice guy – like a great grandfather, I wonder if he is now a great-grandfather. Ballylickey, classic comedy town name. I don’t like jokes, I like wit. Actually I do like jokes but I can’t tell them and people who can’t tell jokes like to make themselves feel better by saying wit is superior. It would be nice to be able to tell jokes but I’d prefer to be able to do accents. People laugh at accents even when the words aren’t funny – Rory Bremner has made a career out of that. Glengariff Golf Club, was Christie O’Connor Jr not good enough for you?

I wonder if Ill ever see blue sky in Ireland. The cloud looks higher, or maybe I’m lower. I think I’m at saturation point anyway, I’m not noticing the rain now.27km to Kenmare, I wonder what that is in miles? Hill, hill, hill, when is this going to end? That’s over an hour and still going and steep too. The Caha Pass, I’m going to check its elevation when I get back because that was ridiculous [not even Wikipedia seems to know]. Why couldn’t they put that tunnel lower down? And into County Kerry, looks the same as County Cork, weather is the same as County Cork but it’s downhill – weeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Finally Kenmare, time to stretch off and try to get at least a little drier, I’ll wring out the gloves, my hands haven’t been that shade of blue since Alcatraz. This town ticks every Irish cliché going. It knows its market is ageing American tourists, and it has worked they are everywhere. What are they actually finding to do? Next target is Killarney. I wonder if I’ll make Tralee today.

Not another climb. That can’t still be this road over there. This is not a good idea with cold muscles. Hillcrest Farm, at the moment the most pleasing farm name ever. The farm lied, so much for honest country folk. Killarney National Park looks pretty, all these loughs and trees. I’m liking the smell of pine, wouldn’t notice that in a car. This part of Ireland must be an area for touring as there is nothing to do in the towns and villages. I expect bike is best, if it ever stops raining, you seem to notice more and certainly have a lot more time to appreciate the detail. I can handle the steep ups here, they are followed quickly by steep downs. Not so keen on the coaches overtaking me on the narrow roads. And the diesel is destroying the pine smell. Killarney, this is bigger than I expected, a proper large town but it could do with a signpost to Tralee. Nice big church with a rugby pitch where most churches have graveyards. There must be a sport meets religion quip just waiting for Gary Lineker there. Do quips count as jokes or wit? Why is everybody here displaying green and yellow flags? Surely the ones on the car windows are reserved for Esso Garage Promotions until our penalty defeat in the World Cup [It turned out these were Kerry flags because they were soon to be playing in the Gallic Football Cup final]. A roundabout, they are the best way to find directions out of a town, and there is Tralee, 32km, what’s that in miles? Ok, I should be there between 6.30 and 7. Uphill again, is there any Irish town that you can escape without going uphill? Doesn’t Ireland have roads where things defy gravity by rolling uphill? Let’s find one of those. I’m not so keen on the green roads, they are too busy and the view is less interesting. I’ll stick to red roads as much as possible [on the map I was using green roads indicated the primary roads and red roads indicated the secondary roads]. For crying out loud avoid the cat’s eyes, my arse is hurting enough as it is. I think I can almost see the sun through the cloud over there – still raining though. I bet it rains even when it is sunny, no wonder rainbows play a part in Irish folklore. A roundabout, that always signifies that I am near a town, they are the traffic equivalent of a dove with an olive branch. Loads of B&Bs but I could do with one near the centre but will they take bikes?. I’ll start at the centre and work my way out. 6.40 is respectable enough. 97 miles. One day in and my legs ache and my arse is raw, 4 more days will be a struggle.

Ireland; South to North and Inside Out - The Build Up

[I had booked a pre-challenge night kayaking trip to see phospholuminescent algae. However the appalling weather meant that this was cancelled. I had also booked a B&B near the kayaking point but as I had no reason to go off route I took a late bus to Goleen instead. Goleen is the nearest mapped conurbation to Mizen Head – Ireland’s most southerly point].

How can the weather be this bad? It was nice in Cork, I’d have liked to have stayed there, it looked like the lovechild of Sheffield and Amsterdam that had rebelled against its parents by dying its shop fronts in lurid primary colours. The clouds here are so low, they are trying to get carnal with the heather. It’s getting dark now, I wonder how big Goleen is, I hope it has some B&Bs, it must do. I hope the B&Bs have vacancies. What will I do if they don’t? [We got to Goleen at 8.30] At least the rain has stopped, I bet we could have gone kayaking. It’s so dark, it would have looked great. This place is tiny, 2 pubs, a general store, a post office, no B&Bs. Hang on, The Heron and Cove B&B and restaurant. I hope they have vacancies, there’s a lot of cars but it is a restaurant and it is dinner time so that means nothing.

Who has a wedding on the 13th? I thought the Irish were superstitious. Please let there be another B&B, I’ll ask at the post office, what if the wedding party has taken every room in town? Better buy something to get directions, some sort of peanut confectionery bar, perfect, but no other B&Bs. She might be wrong, she couldn’t even work the till, maybe the general store will know. Again I'd better buy something, these biscuits are cheap. Above the church and right at the crossroads, please let them have vacancies my teeth have suffered for this information. The church lights are on, maybe I could sleep there. I must have gone wrong there was no B&B and I'm out of town now, I’m going back to church. Wait a sign facing this way only. Please have space, please have space. Yes.

A classic B&B, all floral patterns and it smells of baking, compliment the smell. Oh crap she's offered me cake, I have just had some sort of peanut thing and some biscuits but I can’t say no, she might throw me out, I’ll have to take a slice, why didn't I bin the biscuits? my poor teeth, please don’t let it be chocolate, please don't let it be chocolate. Carrot cake, no icing. It's an enormous slice but that could have been a lot worse, my luck has picked up here. I can’t face a walk back to the village, time to embrace a bed that looked unlikely an hour ago. I hope the sugar rush won’t keep me awake.