Getting out of the city proved harder than I had anticipated. I hadnt really bothered planning a route because I know how haphazard navigating out of dock areas can be. No matter how many times I looked at the map, the road numbers just didnt correspond, and they kept changing too. The trick, I found, was to ask for the name of the road. Once I'd asked for the Crumlin Road I was away.
Immediately striking was how desolate a lot of Belfast was (well, the bits I saw anyways). So many burned out buildings, loyalist flags and proclamations, graffiti. All quite intimidating.
The Crumlin Road climbed steeply out of the city, up into the clouds. This was a bit of a problem because I had nowhere to fix my rear lights when fully laden as I was, and it was very dark and wet up in the hills. Luckily, there was footpath all the way so I just rode on the pavement, ringing my bell to warn folk out the way.
I headed for Lough Neagh (which was where The Prince of Boredom was spending his entire biking holiday). It was pretty enough but so still and isolated it gave me the willies a bit. Maybe I was just in that frame of mind. Cycled through amazing swarms of flies. They were like the swirling smudge of black depicting swarms of bees you see in cartoons, or pilchards wooshing and turning as one. Didnt swallow any though.
After 35 miles I came to a shop that was open. Had the obligatory can of coke (now a morning ritual) and, because in Ireland, a packet of Tayto crisps. My fav.
A man called Steven chatted to me outside the shop. He rang my bell for a quite extraordinary amount of time for an adult (and thats not a euphemism) and fondled my saddle extensively (again, not...). After another 10 miles I found the campsite.
After 35 miles I came to a shop that was open. Had the obligatory can of coke (now a morning ritual) and, because in Ireland, a packet of Tayto crisps. My fav.
A man called Steven chatted to me outside the shop. He rang my bell for a quite extraordinary amount of time for an adult (and thats not a euphemism) and fondled my saddle extensively (again, not...). After another 10 miles I found the campsite.
Because of my early start it was only lunchtime by the time I set up my tent, so I went into town. Tandragee, it turns out, is famous for one thing...
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I tried to get in but they were booked up until September. I went for a drink instead. All the bars here seem to mascarade as betting shops. It wasnt very friendly. Stocked up on soda bread and slices of processed cheese for eating in my tent.
Dist = 47.2 miles
Time cycling = 5hrs 6mins
Aver speed = 9.2mph
Total = 316 miles
ahoy there! how goes it? how come we here about what you're doing two weeks late? is it to do with analogue/digital or something? Are you going to make it home in time for evie's birthday?????
ReplyDeleteFair point.
ReplyDeleteIts because internet cafes aren't as prevalent as I thought. Its all free wi-fi now, which only helps if you have a laptop - which I dont.
Also, by the time I was getting to my destination it was too late to find internet places (e.g. libraries closed), and, of course, I was tired. When I did find internet places, like in hotels, it was quite expensive and uploading from my camera took a long time (finding ways round their security measures).
And to compound all this, on day 2 I trapped my ulna nerve in my right arm giving me Carpel Tunnel Syndrome which meant pins and needles in my hand. This made writing my travel notes hard and typing them up painful. I still have it now.
I too! have also played with the same bell and saddle! its very nice
ReplyDeleteMany I suspect have secretly hankered after my bell dinger and saddle, but few thus far have openly expressed their appreciation. You join an elite grouping with Stephen.
ReplyDelete