Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Postscript - The Price of Petrol

If you are an American reading this and feeling sad about gasoline prices that are topping $4 per gallon, consider this. Each time I filled-up the Ducati it cost around 20 Euros. I tried not to think about this cost while I was traveling for fear of spoiling the fun of the trip. But when I got home I did the conversion. At just over $30 US per tank, gasoline was more than $7.50 US per gallon!

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Day 9 - Derry to Naas

Today would be my last day on the motorcycle so I was anxious to get up and out of the hotel early. I skipped breakfast, partly out of a desire to get in more riding and partly out of fear for the music they might be playing in the restaurant.

My goal for the morning was the northern coast of Ireland. Just before entering the city of Derry the night before, I had crossed over into Northern Ireland. But I was surprised to find that there was no perceptible border crossing. I never even saw the remnants of an old border post. All of the sudden I realized the speed limits were posted in miles per hour rather than kilometers per hour and the license plates gradually changed from the familiar European Union format to the yellow plates of the United Kingdom. A lot has changed in Northern Ireland over the last few years.

The first stop along this beautiful stretch of coastline was Dunluce Castle, just east of the town of Portrush.

Dunluce Castle was in a stunning setting, but I chose to skip the tour. Time was limited and with such a sunny day, I'd rather be riding the beautiful coast roads! :-)

The second stop on the "Causeway Coast" was the Giant's Causeway, a famously odd formation of rocks that forms Ireland's only World Heritage Site. None of the locals recommended the Causeway very highly, but I found it beautiful when I got there. Pretty touristy place, but the weather was fantastic and I got to take an outstanding hike along the cliffs that look down on the actual "Causeway."

Hiking along the Causeway Coast, looking west toward Portrush.

The big attraction along the coast is the Giant's Causeway, an amazing formation of basalt columns along the ocean's edge. I was lucky to visit when the weather was absolutely perfect. I'm told this happens infrequently along this stretch of coast.

There are two competing theories about the creation of the causeway. One, held largely by scientists, is that the columns were formed of molten basalt during the Paleogene period.

The other theory, held by more sensible people, is that the causeway was created by an Irish giant named Finn McCool so that he could walk to Scotland. Take your pick on which theory to believe...I know which one I'm sticking with.

The Giant's Causeway

The only picture I could get of the Giant's Causeway that didn't include people.

At the Giant's Causeway I experienced Irish friendliness firsthand. The currency of Northern Ireland is the Irish Pound, which is different than, but pegged to, the English Pound. As I was in Northern Ireland for only a day, it was my goal to avoid exchanging money there. So I used credit cards for hotels, meals, and petrol and all was well until I got to the Giant's Causeway. I drove up to the parking attendant with Euros in one pocket and Dollars in the other. But he would only accept Pounds so I was going to be forced to exchange money just to park. The attendant was very friendly and told me where to go to change money and allowed me to pay him on the way out rather than in.

So, after my wonderful hike I changed 10 Euros to Irish Pounds, suffering the ridiculous exchange rate and two-Pound minimum commission. What should have been about a four dollar parking fee was going to end up costing ten bucks...but what the heck. I walked out to the parking attendant with my two Pounds in hand and reminded him that I owed him the money. He winked at me, clapped me on the shoulder, and said "doan worry, mate. Be-yon yo-way."

And so the unbelievably friendly Irish would save me the cost of parking, but I would spend the next hour and a half trying to figure out how to spend a pocket full of Irish Pounds before I crossed back over the border to the Republic of Ireland. In case you are wondering, I ended-up spending it on a tomato and brie sandwich, a Red Bull, and an ice cream cone.

By this time it was well after noon and I still had a long way to go to get to Belfast, then on to Dublin, and finally to Naas to return the bike. It was such a beautiful day that I stuck to the coast road as long as I possibly could before turning inland toward the motorway and the fast route south. As I left the coast road, I took one last picture to say farewell to the beautiful Irish coast.

My final picture before turning inland and heading back to Dublin.

When Aladin and I were staying on Achill Island, Ann the innkeeper said goodbye to us with the phrase "Safe Home." Except in Ireland it sounds more like "Say-Foam." It took us a minute to figure out what she was saying but once we did, we decided we really liked that phrase. Aladin and I would use it from then on during our Ireland travels and in emails afterward. And in Northern Ireland, as I was crossing the beautiful Ulster countryside on my last day on the Ducati, each of the little villages I traveled through had signs posted at the limits of the village that said "Safe Home." This seemed particularly appropriate on a motorcycle trip where safety is always on your mind.

I made it back to Naas to meet Paul and return the Ducati later that afternoon, just missing the horrendous rush hour traffic in Dublin. In total I had ridden just under 2,000 miles. Considering that Ireland is only 300 miles long and 175 miles wide at widest point (its about the same size as the state of Indiana), riding 2,000 miles in this area may seem a little implausible. But the coast of Ireland is over 3,000 miles of jagged inlets and mountains. It is this that makes the place so special for a motorcycling.

Over the years, I have been lucky enough to ride motorcycles in many great places. Among them the Swiss and Italian Alps, the Fjords of Norway, the hills of Tuscany, and the islands of Greece stand out, not to mention many great trips throughout the beautiful Western United States. Before this trip I would not have listed Ireland as one of my top motorcycling destinations. Sure I wanted to visit to see the lush countryside, take in the history, drink the Guinness, and most of all, meet the friendly people. But after eight days and 2,000 miles on the back of a Ducati, Ireland would also become one of my favorite motorcycling destinations of all time.

Ireland is a country of nooks and crannies. Its scale is small and its beauty and history are packed densely. Despite this, one never feels cramped and there is still plenty of space left over for lots of friendly people. For an American, traveling in Ireland is a great contrast, especially if you live in the West where traversing large distances quickly is a part of any travel routine. In Ireland, the narrow roads and frequent villages force you to slow down and take things in at a calmer pace.

For the motorcyclist, this presents both an opportunity and a challenge. The remote corners of Ireland are best explored on a motorcycle, in my opinion. But riders should be prepared for a slower pace, narrow twisty roads, and frequent hazards like rain, gravel and sheep..sometimes all three at the same time.

Riding these roads will keep your senses alert at all times. As you navigate a difficult corner, the road will open and reveal a spectacular seascape, or a mountain lake, or an ancient castle, and you will smile under your helmet, breath deeply, and soak in the sights, smells, and sounds of this wonderful country.

And at the end of each day, you can be certain there will be a friendly crowd and a fresh pint of Guinness awaiting your arrival...where ever you choose to stop.

Day 8 - Donegal to Derry

At breakfast this morning (you guessed it, another huge Irish breakfast) the hotel was playing the Bee Gees classic soundtrack "Saturday Night Fever" on the PA system in the restaurant. I went for the Rice Krispies...

How deep is your love
I really need to learn
cause were living in a world of fools
Breaking us down
When they all should let us be
We belong to you and me

Then the waitress arrived to inform me of my hot meal options (there were several, as usual)....

I know your eyes in the morning sun
I feel you touch me in the pouring rain
And the moment that you wander far from me
I wanna feel you in my arms again

Seemed like it was taking longer than usual for the food to arrive. I went for more coffee...

And you come to me on a summer breeze
Keep me warm in your love and then softly leave
And its me you need to show...

Finally, the usual assortment of eggs, hash browns, bacon, sausage, and that... "pudding." Pudding like nothing that Bill Cosby ever advertised. I still couldn't figure out what that stuff was.

I believe in you
You know the door to my very soul
You're the light in my deepest darkest hour
You're my saviour when I fall
And you may not think
I care for you
When you know down inside
That I really do
And its me you need to show

Time for another glass of orange juice...

How deep is your love
I really need to learn
cause were living in a world of fools
Breaking us down
When they all should let us be
We belong to you and me

For the rest of the day, through over 400 miles of stunning Irish countryside, I would unavoidably hear the Bee Gees classic hit "How Deep is Your Love" (Which topped Billboard's Hot 100 list the day before Christmas in 1977 and stayed in the Top 10 for 17 weeks) playing over and over in my head.

Making a quick escape from the hotel, I was rewarded with some beautiful coastal scenery. My first stop was the Slieve League cliffs, which are the tallest in Europe. These pictures really don't do them justice. Like the Grand Canyon, the scale of the cliffs is difficult to take in.

The 2,000 foot high Slieve League cliffs.

I hiked up to a viewpoint for better photo ops of the cliffs. Looking back down at the road and the parking lot. Can you see the Ducati parked down there?

Having someone in the picture gives it a little better perspective.

From the cliffs, I started riding further north, hugging the coastline as much as possible. My Michelin map shows all of the scenic roads in green. My goal is to ride as many of the green roads as possible.

A church poised in the middle of a beautiful valley, somewhere in Donegal.

As I rode further north the land became more rugged and remote and the mountains taller.

One of my guidebooks says this of the Donegal Region:

Donegal is the most remote and perhaps the most ruggedly beautiful county in Ireland. It's not on the way to anywhere, and it wears this isolation well. With more native Irish speakers than in any other county, the old ways are better preserved here.

During this eighth day of my motorcycle journey, I would find this assessment very accurate. In the end, Donegal may have been my favorite part of Ireland. It seemed the further north and west I went, the more beautiful Ireland became.

The road approaching Glengesh Pass. The morning clouds were clearing and it was turning into a beautiful day.

Crossing Glengesh Pass, this was the view down the other side toward the coast. It was a very steep, narrow, and twisty ride down to the bottom. But luckily, no traffic coming from the other direction. I road down this fun little stretch of road into the town of Ardara, smiling inside my helmet and singing to myself...How deep is your love, I really need to learn, cause we're living in a world of fools...

Another beautiful day in Ireland...


There were brand-new lambs everywhere you looked. These were quite young and staying very close to their mother, who did not seem to like my taking their picture.

By the late afternoon I had covered a huge amount of territory all along the Donegal coast. I decided to take a detour onto the Innishowen Peninsula, even though it was late in the day. As the light began to dim, this beach came into view near the north end of the peninsula.

Finally, I arrived at Malin Head, the top of the Inishowen Peninsula and the northernmost point in Ireland. It was late in the evening and I had ridden for hundreds of miles without stops for lunch or dinner. But the clouds had cleared and the view was spectacular in the early evening sun. As I stood on the windy, frigid point, I realized that the next solid "land" to the north is the polar ice cap. I considered this for a moment, in awe of the beauty of this country.

Then I thought to myself...

How deep is your love
I really need to learn
cause were living in a world of fools
Breaking us down
When they all should let us be
We belong to you and me...