clairedavieswriter

It’s fair to say that this is not the variety of Irish weather I’d been expecting

Bernard kept getting distracted by the views

But before long it was time to put the beautiful mountains of Kerry behind us and cross into our third county (insert ditty here. Ed)

It turned out that Guillaume had been a little economical with the vérité when it came to the climbing required to get there. He was adamant that the hill at the 30km mark was no steeper than 10%.

But in my opinion, if the road disappears entirely when viewed from the top, it’s a bit more than that. And as I toiled up the steepest section on foot, it felt closer to 20%

Happily, it was soon over, and as always the flip side of a tough climb is a(nother) fine view. Though I felt the locals were in danger of taking this one for granted

Better still, after 15k on a main road (albeit with a generous hard shoulder) at the town of Abbeyfeale I joined a repurposed railway line, the Limerick Greenway

On whose immaculate surface I climbed for a solid 35k, steadily but never steeply (blessed be the railway engineers for they are kind to tired legs).
You can’t see it in this picture, but the Greenway was also a beautiful corridor of springtime blossom – sweet-scented gorse, white flowering hawthorn, fluffy pussy willow, and the leaves of sweet chestnuts unfurling almost as I watched. I saw a tiny vole or field mouse scampering by, and towards the end a russet-coated stoat skittered across my path, its dark tail corkscrewing behind it

At this point, Bernard developed a bad case of chafing-brake-disc-itis. He shook it off after a few miles, but for a while we fittingly chuffed uphill like a steam train of old

Today’s particular highlights were the encounters I’ve described in part one. The Greenway was definitely another. Others include the company I had all day (and look – short sleeves!)

Along with this curiously detailed vignette, on a signboard listing significant dates in the history of Abbeyfeale:

And this one, 400 years earlier, about an Earl who, defying his family for the sake of love, was exiled to (quel horreur) France

I also enjoyed the names of the areas the Greenway passed through, which ranged from the comic (no sign of Eeny, Miney, or Moe by the way)

To the enigmatic:

To the thoroughly gothic

But this was my sign of the day, because of how it differs from a likely British equivalent. At home, it might be headed ‘Code of Conduct’ or simply ‘User Rules’. Framing it under the umbrella of mutual respect changes everything, don’t you think?

Tonight we’re staying in a charming little glamping site run by a very friendly couple who have insisted that we help ourselves to as many free range eggs as we like (they even gave us two empty eggboxes to fill), ‘but don’t let them get too warm, like, or you’ll have chicks hatching on you’.