Heading home.

Two things I've often heard about Ireland are :-

It always rains.

And

The roads are crap.

We have had very dry days, and occasionally the sun came out.

The roads have been good tarmac, and mainly smooth.

The hardest thing to do was find any remote roads, and we searched long and hard. At nearly every turn there was a house or cottage with 10 cars outside.  There are a lot of beaches, which would make it a good summer location, might try it some time.

We crossed the border a couple of times on our way to Dublin and finally found a sign, on the UK side telling people to drive on the left. Nothing on the Irish side.

I can only conclude that it is the British who think there is, or should be, a border.

Dave celebrating crossing a border in one piece.

Ok, it does rain a bit.

Just a short ferry ride, then a bimble through Wales and I'll be in the Turks Head by 1630.

Much Muff Mirth

One of the joys of travel is the variety of place names you come across. It is even better when it is unexpected. 

Dave was probably sniggering long before I saw the first sign.

There is always joy when you can place your helmet on Muff.

Of particular amusement was the Muff Barbers.

And of course we had do go Muff diving.

https://www.muffdivingclub.ie/

On a slightly different theme the Tub of curry Indian was well named.

There are easier ways to cross a border

Dave thought he was auditioning for the remake of "The Great Escape"

After an early ferry, a misty start, visiting the Giants Causeway and some random Game Of Thrones site, we headed into the mountains in search of a small border crossing.

Things had been going well until late in the day, on a wet road, as Dave approached a right hand bend his bike had other ideas and decided it should lay down.

This was a first for me, normally I am the one other people watch flip into hedges.

It was nice of Dave to warn me that the bend might have some unexpected extras, so I wasn't surprised when my rear end twitched and recovered. All I had to do next was make sure I didn't hit Dave. Helpfully he slid away from his bike and followed it into the hedge.

I parked up, ran over and enquired if he was ok. With an affirmative I then checked if he wanted some pictures taking. Got to get priorities right.

With the help of some locals we dragged the bike out and then went about finding as many pieces of the bike as we could.

I kept holding up plastic and saying "is this a bit of yours?" each time he said "no" the locals laughed. Apparently this was a common ooccurrence here.

After the about the 5th passerby asking "anyone hurt?" I thought it was best to replace "No, only his pride" with "only his wallet" as I was starting to get evil stares from Dave.

Remarkably the bike was still rideable and we continued the last 20 miles to Donegal, crossing into Ireland over some moorland road with no indication of the border.

It was decided that we should have a rest day, so Dave set about reconstructing his front mudguard.

Looks like we left a piece in the field.

Dave wasn't overly amused at my choice of location for a test ride, despite my argument that any landings would be softer.

The long way here/there/everywhere

Riding with Dave is always "interesting". Previously we have only ridden together on days out in Wales or Derbyshire, he always hunts out the strange tracks and green lanes.

I now understand his method of route choice.

Plot in start and finish.

Draw a strait line.

Place the base of a protractor on it.

Mark 90 degrees.

Make sure route swings as near as there as possible.

The route from mine to Stranraer (220 miles) became 320 :-)

At one point we were near Richmond, Yorkshire.

When he smiled at me at a petrol stop and said "right, deepest darkest Yorkshire" I knew it would be a good, but long day. Every time I thought I knew where we were heading (Tan Hill or to wave at the Yorkshire Shepardess), he would wing off down a track I'd never considered before.

And then there was day 2, liitle used Ayrshire and Galloway roads and gravel.

Hopefully he won't get bored of me following him everywhere anytime soon.

As we prepared to hop over to Ireland, after a summers day in Scotland,

while packing for our early start, I came across Dave's route plan from day 1.

Hopefully the magical mystery tour will continue in the Emerald Isle.

Finally, a trip in the offing.

 It feels like a long time since I've been on a decent bike trip.

Oh, hang on, it is. Not since 2018 (Uganda and the Bol D'Or).  Jean and I had hoped to get to Turkey and Georgia but Covid got in the way (along with family stuff) causing us to delay that trip multiple times.

So I was pleased when my mate Dave suggested I tag along with his Southern Scandi planned trip (Denmark/Norway/Sweden).

The spreadsheet of where we could go, or not, and what tests  and quarantine were required got a bit out of hand. As the year progressed we decided to switch to Spain& France to do some heat and hills. But then France went "Amber plus".  Dave would not be able to isolate due to work if the same happend to Spain.

Really there was only one decent option left, a journey through the CTA (Common Travel Area; England, Wales, Scotland Northern Ireland and Ireland), as UK citizens we get to cross to Ireland (despite it being still in Europe) with less hassles (can be done without passport) or chances of isolation upon return.

The Peg (Peg 1) is prepped and ready to roll. Now we just need some weather.

Our route will be via Stranraer, a few days trying out some Scottish tracks, then over to Larne and of to Donegal for a week trying out the Irish equivalent. I've been very negligent and left all the road planning to Dave. 

In past (day) trips together he has led me astray over some rocky terrain and dirt. In one instance left me sliding down the road during a ford crossing, requiring some extreme roadside repairs.

 Wish me luck.