Coastal Cruising

Greg Kincaid, bike warrior

County Clare coastal road

Day two of our Ireland biking tour allowed our sore legs a bit of a break. Rather than biking 40 miles (uphill both ways...) we were allowed a leisurely 20 miles along a relatively flat coastal road. After leaving Doolin we climbed a steep and narrow two mile road that ended at the elaborate "Castle Hotel." We turned left into a tunnel of thickly overhanging trees: "Talking Trees" as an Irish woman at lunch called them. After passing through a few miles of "The Burren" (which is landscape similar to how I imagine the moon, if the atmosphere allowed wildflowers to grow) we once again saw our beloved ocean.

Watching the cows pass

The coastal view at this part of Ireland reminds me of Big Sur, California. The towering cliffs and grey/blue choppy water mixes with chilly weather and occasional fog to provide the perfect weather for biking, we have rarely been too hot. We eventually rounded a corner and saw the small fishing village of Derreen nestled in the bay. It was here that I discovered the garden of my dreams, and the owner, a sweet old Irish man in the process of herding his dairy cows,  invited me in to poke around and take a few pictures. The garden was lined with an old stone fence and one would only need to take a small pause from planting or weeding to look up and see the Atlantic Ocean. White dairy cows with their young calves grazed on the other side of the stone fence and the blooming potato plants were thriving. You could smell the salty air and hear the cows mooing just a few feet away. Gardening paradise.

Gardening Paradise

Our rumbling stomachs urged us to enter the first dwelling with a sign for anything edible and we rushed into a small white house without a second thought. We instantly stopped in our tracks: Did we just walk into Grandma's kitchen? A table set for six, a small green love seat, an ancient metal stove with a whistling tea kettle and brown bread sliced on the counter greeted us inside. A tiny grey-haired woman stood to welcome us and offer a seat. She explained the menu; ham and cheese sandwiches with tomato, beef stew, tea; any combination of the three. The food wasn't anything I couldn't cook at home myself, but getting to have lunch with a little Irish grandma and discuss everything from new-fangled cell phones to the changing weather was exactly what we needed without knowing it. I only wish I would have given her a hug...

Petting the miniature ponies

Begging for apples

A few perfectly landscaped miles later we screeched to a stop  to visit with a couple of painfully cute miniature horses. Dad had been saving an apple for just this purpose and we spent a nice chunk of time petting behind their ears and cooing. "Michale Ann is going to be so jealous!" Dad said wickedly.

Heading to Ballyvaghan

We rolled into Ballyvaughan, our resting spot for the next two days, and easily found our Bed and Breakfast. The owner greeted us with hot tea and a lit fire. Knowing that we would be sticking around town the next day to rest our sore legs, she helpfully pulled out maps from a cluttered bookshelf and started pointing out the best local ruins and walking trails. Dinner at a local pub confirmed my growing suspicion, Irish food isn't anything to write home about (and this is coming from the unofficial biggest fan of potatoes, ever). After reading by the fire and reviewing pictures of the day we turned in for bed. Ireland is so far north that despite it being nearly 11 p.m., we still had to draw the shades to keep out the light.