After convincing myself to get-my-lazy-ass-out-of-bed-NOW-I'm-in-IRELAND!, I realized that by suggesting I might brave the weather in this morning's post, I had, in fact, challenged myself to do so. And I can't just back down from a challenge (note that this is why I didn't pack a bathing suit... it would've been a challenge to swim in Dingle. NOT a good plan. I think this shows some self-growth; recognizing my character flaws and working around them). Had a lonely breakfast at the B&B (fairly certain I was the only one in the house), and headed off to the bike rental place I had seen yesterday in town. Chatted with the lady in the shop for a while, convinced her to let me rent a bike even though I didn't have any form of ID on me, and away I went! Was a bit petrified because I had to drive on the roads for a few minutes before entering the park, but I managed to not get hit by any cars, or to drive on the wrong side of the road without thinking. Had a gorgeous ride through the park, saw some deer (their deer are a really dark, chocolate-y brown color, and they're in mating season, so they were bellowing all day), and made it safely to Ross Castle, the departure point.
The plan, as established by that point, was to take my bike down to the pier at Ross Castle where I would meet up with a boat leaving at 11am for Dunloe's Gap, a pass between two mountains at the bottom of the three lakes in Killarney National Park. That was a lot of information for one sentence. Here's the breakdown. Three lakes in the park, pier at the castle, take a boat (with bike) to bottom of lakes, ride back. So that was the plan, and I was flying solo. As luck would have it though, there were 4 other bikers traveling with the same plan who ever so kindly invited me to join them on the journey. Two Spanish girls, Elizabeth and Anna Maria (? her English wasn't very good, and I don't think she would've gotten it if I'd asked for a repeat), a Slovakian guy named Martin, and an English-born Irishman named Michael. So there we were, traveling on this old wooden boat with a crusty old captain telling us about the rivers and lakes that we were traversing as well as the mountains and passes surrounding us. It was still a murky kind of morning, but the company was nice. Also, it was CHILLY. Weather from the internet said between 51 and 58 degrees today, but being on the lake it was even cooler. I was glad that I'd dressed appropriately (except, ninny that I am, I forgot gloves for fall break. I swapped winter coats without swapping the ever-present gloves from the pockets of brown coat into pockets of black coat).
We stopped for a cup of tea at a little cafe set up by the unloading dock at Brandon's Cottage, and then were off. The lady at the bike rental place warned me that there was a bit of a hill. She did NOT mention that it was 4.5 KILOMETERS worth of switchbacking mountain roads. Michael is a fitness instructor and ex-semi-pro soccer player (they call it soccer in Ireland. "Football" typically refers to Gaelic football apparently), and even HE was feeling it. Though I think he possibly was exaggerating his tiredness to make the rest of us feel better. Still. I thought my legs might just fall off. In any event, we made it to the top and got to enjoy an almost entirely downhill trip for the last 8k or so. A few small hills, but nothing like that first leg. We made it to the second cottage, Kate Kearney's, and stopped to thaw out (riding downhill = more wind = COLD). The others were planning to stop at a golf driving range and invited me along, but I begged off on account of A. having no money with me, and B. needing to sit down on something that wasn't a bicycle seat. Between horseback riding yesterday and biking for the better part of 3 hours today, my bum was about ready to fall off. So I biked the last 12k to Killarney (which was further than they would have been biking anyway) by myself.
Made it back with time to spare and asked the kind bicycle shop lady where I could get a good Irish stew. She pointed me in the direction of Murphy's Pub, so away I went. I GOBBLED my stew. I think the waiter was shocked. It was delicious; lots of lamb and good, thick slices of brown bread with yummy Irish butter (which is really, really, really, really good. Think whole milk vs skim, that's Irish butter to ours at home). I headed back to the B&B after dinner (walked past that guy from the pub last night who awkwardly hit on me, and he did AGAIN! He said hello as I passed him and I smiled, because I recognized him, and said hello back, and he IMMEDIATELY started into his 20 questions gig. Laughed in his face and kept walking. A wise decision on the whole, I think), had a nice chat with Denny, the guy who works here, and took up residence in my bed. My body's in too much pain to do anything else, which is OK by me.
Talked to Katie Rose, my friend from high school, and made plans to meet up tomorrow in Galway. She's wonderful, and has ever so kindly agreed to put me up for the weekend! So on to Galway tomorrow, and on to some reading before bed tonight.
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