After an excellent sleep in our well ventilated cabin our hearts sank as we arrived in Cork at 7am: torrential rain lashed against the deck outside the on-board cafe and we knew we were in for a wet start to our tour. Any hopes of sheltering at the ferry port were dashed as we were ejected from the ferry, for there was not a single covered area between the ferry and the road. Even the passport control was exposed to the brutal elements. To make matters worse the port was actually more than 5 miles from Cork, and Cork was not the direction we needed to travel. We got totally drenched just thinking about what to do, so after a quick study of the map we decided the best solution was to accept the inevitable and ride at full speed towards the hostel.

We took the R613 westwards, and once we got going the rain really didn't seem so bad. A driver stopped us near Ballygarvan to tell us that a tree was blocking the road ahead, but we pressed on, hopeful that it would not be a problem for a cycle. As it turned out it very nearly was a problem, but we just managed to carry the bikes over the huge trunk and were greeted on the other side by a friendly local who welcomed us to Ireland! We wondered why there were no road signs warning of the blockage, but apparently this was quite normal for Ireland!

We were looking for the easiest route to the south west, and the main N71 road was just what we were looking for. It seemed to be flat or downhill for miles from Ballinhassig to Bandon so the miles flew by. We stopped at a garage that offered delicious French pastries baked on the premises and top quality hot chocolates - if only garages in the UK could offer such a service! The shop owners and customers seemed a little concerned to see us dripping all around the store, but some locals made us feel very welcome, confirming our view that the Irish are a friendly people.

Stopping too long when you're soaked to the skin is never a good idea no matter how nice the food is, so we set off again quickly for Clonakilty. As we arrived the rain was slowing, so we investigated a model railway village and discovered a cosy cafe built into an old carriage. Sitting on the old train seats with our soaking clothes was not the most pleasant experience, but once again we were entertained by the cafe owner and his friend with stories of how Clonakilty was mainly a town of "blow-ins" - people who have immigrated to Ireland - and amusement at the enormous climbs we had planned for the next few days.

Now the rain had all but stopped so the next leg of the journey to Skibbereen was much more enjoyable. We arrived there by 1.30 have completed 60 miles before lunch - quite an achievement by any standards! We bought lunch and supper in a local supermarket, sent texts to Oliver and Tao (who had chickened out of the tour because they thought it would be too easy), then rode the final 10 miles to Baltimore, a small coastal village bustling with tourists that did its best to entertain us during our long wait for the 5pm ferry to Clear Island. Gavin was so sore and we were both so tired that we slept on the 45 minute crossing in the rickety ferryboat, seeing little of the wonderful coastal scenery.

Clear Island is a remote, self-sufficient community where mainland law doesn't seem to apply: all the cars we saw would never have passed an MOT! We rode over the central hill and down to the hostel, situated on the edge of an isolated bay in tranquil surroundings. The wardens had moved there from Bristol several years earlier and had grown accustomed to the slow pace of life. They built a large open fire in the lounge to welcome us, so after a good meal we settled down by the fire to enjoy a video on the laptop Michael had brought.

(Previous recorded mileage was 70 miles)

The first ferry back to the mainland was at 11.30 this morning so we felt fully justified in having a well-deserved lie-in until 9am. In any case, this wasn't the kind of place to rush around - nobody rushes anywhere on Clear Island! The warden advised us that we couldn't possibly really know how nice Clear Island is without staying a week or more; he urged us to explore the island and not to worry about missing the ferry, because time doesn't matter on Clear Island. We felt like suggesting that he needn't worry if the hostel wasn't cleaned by 5pm, but we doubted he would have appreciated such a comment.

We took the red ferry bound for Skull, feeling on top of the world in the mid-morning sunshine. The captain kept us amused on the 45 minute journey by telling us of the famous Fastnet lighthouse that could be seen from the boat, and the histories of the various uninhabited islands that we passed on the route. The fishing village of Skull was bustling with activity and we would have loved to stay, but it was now 12.15 and we had ridden only 2 miles with around 60 to go! We bought lunch from a garage at Ballydehob that offered convenient picnic tables outside, then tackled the first climb of the day in the afternoon heat before the long downhill to Bantry.

Next stop was Glengarriff, but now Gavin's knees were causing him real pain and he didn't feel he could cope with the next two major climbs without causing damage. We were late in any event because of the morning ferry and there were still many miles to cover, so we seemed to have little choice but to hire a taxi van to take us on to the top of the second climb at Moll's Gap.

While we were waiting for the van to arrive, Michael went to buy an ice-cream from a local store. The elderly gentleman sticking labels on tins turned out to be the proprietor, and when Michael indicated his requirements the man moved behind the counter, pointed to the two machines behind him and asked in a broad Irish accent whether Michael wanted plain or mint ice-cream. Slightly bemused by the prospect of mint ice-cream being produced by a machine, Michael took a moment or two to ponder his reply. The proprietor, however, interpreted this as an Englishman being unable to understand an Irish accent: he immediately took offence and refused to serve any ice-cream whatsoever, returning to his labelling task in the main part of the store. Michael attempted to explain that he was only trying to decide, and that he was ready to buy an ice-cream, but the proprietor would have none of it and told him to leave the store! We relayed the story to other shop-owners in the town who all burst out laughing and reassured us that he was like this to everyone!

The driver made good conversation with us on the journey and we were soon preparing the bikes for the descent into Black Valley, a remote mountainous area that looked similar to parts of Scotland. Finally we reached the hostel, situated in a quiet hamlet with extensive views. The main entrance was so poorly marked that we spent some time trying to get in through the warden's private doorway before being pointed in the right direction. We shared our small dormitory with an Irish lad called Kevin who chatted all evening about his experiences and then settled down to enjoy a DVD with us on our laptop.

(Previous recorded mileage was 36 miles)

We had planned to get up before 8 this morning as we had a long day ahead of us, but the room was so quiet and cosy that we overslept, and it was 8.45 when we finally got up for breakfast. We took some video shots all around the hostel and set off very late at 10.20.

Our ride started with the climb to the Head of the Gap of Dunloe, which was only about a mile and a half from the hostel. The view from the top was spectacular, and when a passing motorist saw us taking photos of each other she kindly stopped and took a photo of the two of us. Gavin’s knee was thankfully not too bad so far, and he would now be able to rest it while we took the long, gradual downhill through the Gap of Dunloe.

Gavin filmed the entire part of this ride from Augher Lake to the Gap of Dunloe car park, but it proved more problematic than he had imagined. There was a constant stream of horses pulling tourist-laden traps along what should have been a quiet country lane, not to mention hundreds of people making the journey on foot and even the occasional cyclist. We found out that the tourists, many of them Americans, were paying up to sixty euros per person to be pulled along by the horses. It all looked very attractive in the morning sunshine, but Gavin’s arm was aching and after what seemed like the twentieth stop to let horses pass he declared the situation as “beyond intolerable”.

Eventually we reached the tourist company’s base where horse-filled fields and stables confirmed the huge size of the operation. They must have been making a huge amount of money, although we still didn’t quite establish why so many people were coming here. There was a convenient café there, so we stopped to enjoy expensive hot chocolates and then continued downwards to the lowlands.

We took the lane route south of the Rive Laune, which provided some great views of the mountains we had left behind, then crossed the river at Killorglin and continued to Castlemaine where we bought lunch. We rode a few more miles to a spot near Inch to eat it, then stopped again at the magnificent Inch Beach for more refreshments – and to send a few text messages back home. It really was a lovely spot, and Gavin very much enjoyed the bottle of juice we bought there in the sunshine.

We left there at 15:40 to head along the Dingle peninsula to Dingle itself. The coastal scenery was excellent, but it felt like a long journey as we were tired and there were a few hills. When we arrived there, we had clocked 48 miles and still had another 14 or so to go. We established bus times and pick-up points for tomorrow, bought milk and other provisions, then rode the final very impressive scenic route to the end of the Dingle Peninsula, along Slea Head Drive. The setting sun made for some excellent photos of the scattered rocks and islands.

Dun Caonin hostel (Dunquin Hostel in English) was the best so far - very modern, with good facilities, wonderful views and a dorm to ourselves. We cooked ourselves a rather late pasta n sauce for two at 8.30pm and ate it in the dining room with superb sea views. The only detraction was that a few of the guests insisted on having a barbecue below our dorm window.

(Previous recorded mileage was 62 miles, probably made up for riding around Castlemaine and Dingle for food)

Today dawned bright and sunny, providing us with spectacular sea views as we ate a good breakfast in the Dining Room at Dunquin Youth Hostel. After taking some video shots inside and out, we set off later than planned at around 10am, returning to Dingle via Slea Head, the same scenic route that we took yesterday.

We had to travel another 90 miles or so today, nearly halfway across Ireland, so we were using buses. Since we couldn’t book our bikes onto the buses, we had decided to take the earlier 12.15 bus from Dingle, just to be sure of getting there. As it was 11.30 when we arrived in Dingle, we had 45 minutes to spare, so we used the time to check out the Dingle Oceanworld Aquarium.

The Aquarium had some nice features, like the piranhas and the open-topped Ray pool that allowed visitors to actually handle the Rays, but otherwise it was just nowhere near as good as the National Marine Aquarium in Plymouth. Gavin found it interesting enough however, as he has a particular interest in fish.

There was a big queue fort he 12:15 bus, but we got the bikes into the cavernous boot with no trouble at all and enjoyed a relaxing journey to Tralee. Here we drew out some cash and bought lunch from the well-stocked Dunnes Stores. Again, however, it was proving difficult for Michael to find vegetarian food, as it had been everywhere in Ireland so far.

Next, we took the longer bus journey to Adare. When we alighted at the bus stop, we found ourselves adjacent to the Adare Tourist Information Centre, where a local was playing his accordion non-stop: whilst I’m sure he thought everyone was delighted to hear him, we found him just plain annoying! We left set off for the town centre as soon as possible, bought some food for the evening and some gifts to take home, then set off for the final few miles of cycling to our first Bed and Breakfast of the tour, Laurel Lodge at Newboro, Patrickswell.

The house was very modern and luxurious, in a quiet location and set in its own gardens. We had a luxury room, which made a welcome change from Youth Hostels, and had a peaceful night.

(Previous recorded mileage was 19miles)

Gavin was so comfortable this morning that he took ages to get out of bed for breakfast at Laurel Lodge B&B. And when we had finished breakfast, he went back to bed again! He’s often a bit late leaving hostels, but today he was just lazy! Packing was slow too as Herbie goes to Monte Carlo was on TV, so Michael took some video shots around the room and outside while he got himself ready. It was 10.30 when we finally left, with the owner rushing in to clean our room ready for his next two guests – we should really have been out by 10.00.

Today was cloudier and a bit colder than of late. We spent most of the day on country lanes as we progressed in a south-easterly direction towards the Galty Mountains. First stop was Grange Stone Circle on the banks of Lough Gur, the best-preserved stone circle in Ireland, dating back to 2100BC. The Visitor Centre on the other side of the lake was a disappointment as it had no café, just very expensive snack bars. We did get good views of the lake though.


We bought lunch at Hospital but it took several more miles before we found a suitable place to eat it - seat included! The Mountain Lodge hostel tonight was so remote that all provisions had to be brought with us, so we bought some more items in the small village of Ballylanders, then found ourselves within a few miles of the hostel by around 3.15pm.

There was time for an excursion to the Mitchelstown caves. To be honest we didn't expect much from them, especially when we saw the small car park and the sign advising customers to pay at the house. A friendly old lady answered the door and took our money, and as we walked up the path, we expected nothing more than a hollow in the hillside! In fact, the caves turned out to be well worth the €4.50 we paid, with some of the finest formations in Europe on display.

A long track of around 1.6 miles took us up into the Galty Mountains to the hostel, once a shooting lodge and now one of the most isolated hostels in Ireland. Gas lighting was used as there was no electricity, although having no lights in the lavatories did cause a few problems. It even had a gas fridge, something we had never seen before! Unfortunately, there was virtually no mobile phone reception here, but that didn’t stop Michael spending some time outside waving his phone around so that he got just enough reception to send and receive a few text messages.

There was an excellent log burner which kept the place very warm, and we spent a very cosy evening by the fireside. Everyone staying at the hostel was very chatty and friendly, so this turned out to be one of the best evenings of the tour.

(Previous recorded mileage was 49 miles)

Mountain Lodge Youth Hostel, otherwise known as Glengarra Mountain Lodge, is a protected building built in 1872. It is certainly an interesting place to say, and we had an OK night there despite the beds being saggy and noisy. Gavin took a video inside of our dorm with its gas light, and the round common room at the end of the building, while Michael took some photos outside.

The day started with damp weather, but we had already decided we wanted to look at some places of interest today and try out an Irish train, which would keep our cycling miles down to a manageable 24 miles.

First, we rode just under ten miles to the town of Cahir, which turned out to be quite interesting, with a castle and several good shops. The Lazy Bean café was good too! Gavin got an Irish haircut for €10, and we bought a newspaper to read about the important IRA statement released yesterday. We bought a takeaway pizza for lunch and then visited the local internet café to chat with people at home for a charge of €2.50. The outdoor shop was not worth a lot, but overall we had immersed ourselves in a typical Irish town for several hours.

The train from Cahir to Waterford turned out to be less than half the price of the bus – €9 each instead of €22 for the bus. Admittedly this was a special offer, but even at normal prices it would have been cheaper. It was a very comfortable ride, so we both had a sleep.

Waterford was busy. The Waterford Crystal glassworks site turned out to be very interesting. We had a guided tour of the factory, filmed by Michael and photographed by Gavin, then visited the café which was excellent. All in all, we felt it had been well worth the time.

After buying some food from a nearby garage, we rode the twelves miles or so through the lanes to Dunmore East, where we quickly found our bed and breakfast, Avon Lodge, on the road into the town. As usual with B&Bs it was very comfortable. After showers etc we walked down to Dunmore East Park and down to Kittiwake’s Rock, where hundreds of Kittiwakes were nesting and flying around the cliff face opposite. It was definitely an infestation!

We had planned to ride to Rosslare today and spend the night at a B&B there ready to catch the early morning ferry tomorrow and the 14:10 train from Fishguard to Newton Abbot, arriving 18:14, but when we considered things this morning we worked out we could catch the ferry this evening instead and travel back to Devon on the train overnight. So we decided to do that, as it would save wasting a day. We telephoned the Rosslare B&B to cancel. We had to pay them a cancellation charge, and we had to pay a small surcharge on the ferry, but we felt it was worth it.

We had a 40-mile cycle ride today, but we didn't take any photos or video after leaving Avon Lodge. We caught a ferry from Rosslare to Fishguard, then travelled all night on the trains through Bristol and back to Devon. A lot of rather rowdy and drunk football supporters boarded the train at Swansea, so we didn't feel it was the best time to be travelling on the train.

We got back to Devon by morning, very tired of course, but we had saved our extra day!