Musings in the time of Covid 19


The personal is political

The Road Not Taken

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.

I began these reflections by re-reading the poem “The road not taken”. It was a poem I loved when I was in school as it seemed to give permission for life to offer different possibilities at every crossroads. I could chose to remain on the road I was familiar with or I could risk taking the road less travelled.

I have recently heard many talk of “when we return to normal “. I began to wonder what returning to “normal” meant before Covid 19.
I began asking myself, do I want

to go back to rampant homelessness?
to children being brought up in a tiny hotel room where their development is stunted?
to a two-tier health system where money can dictate your access to health care?
to direct provision being our only response to asylum seeker?
to billionaires paying their workers less than a living wage?
to a society where men do not openly challenge each other about the role of patriarchy in domestic violence and rape?
to a society that sees rampant capitalism as the only way to live?
to where thousands of people’s lives are dispensable by power hungry warlord?
to where positive, creative leadership is becoming non-existent?
to where “Them vs Us” is an acceptable way of being?
to where likes on social media, decides my self-worth?
to where the person who has the business idea is more valuable than the people who implement the idea?
to where valuing justice and equality are seen as old-fashioned values?
to where inane celebrities are deemed more valuable than health workers, domestic cleaners or the rubbish collecting personnel?
to where killing the planet is ok as long as there is a profit?
to where loneliness is becoming an epidemic for all ages?
And on and on ….

If that is returning to normal, I wonder what all the pain we have suffered has been about?

I am wondering can we actually dream of another way of being in the world? Where we see and acknowledge our absolute interconnectedness; our dependence on each other; our care for each other: our wish for the planet and all aspects of it thrive…….
I want to believe that we are now being asked to find the courage and creativity to take the road less travelled in the wake of this Covid 19.

A quote from Mahatma Gandhi has guided me many times when I thought what I was doing was not worthwhile:
“Whatever you do may seem insignificant to you, but it is most important that you do it.”

Thus, I believe the challenge now, with courage and compassion is to open to another road, the road not yet travelled. The road where we do not know the signposts or even the direction it will take us. The road that encourages us to reach out and connect with others who are willing to take on this struggle even if their version is different. The road that is willing to tap into resources like kindness, patience, humour, compassion, courage, and most of all choices made with awareness.

“In Auschwitz, we never knew from one moment to another what was going to happen,” says Eger. “I couldn’t fight or flee, but I learned how to stay in a situation and make the best of what is. I still had choices. So, when we were stripped and shorn of our hair, Magda asked me, ‘How do I look?’ She looked like a mangy dog, but I told her: ‘Your eyes are so beautiful. I never noticed when you had all that hair.’ Every day, we could choose to pay attention to what we’d lost or what we still had.”
Choice by Edith Eger

Even when we crave the old road, we can learn to ground ourselves, to centred ourselves and to recommit to our choice over and over.
I believe this is exactly what the world needs now. People who are willing to explore the habitual patterns that have brought us to this point in time and are willing to take the first steps on a new journey for the planet, the people and all the animals who share it with us.
It will take huge courage to keep making new choices, taking the roads less travelled over and over until a new more sustainable way of life has been found. To tap into our adult selves even when the old ways seem easier, so that sometime in the future, our adult selves will be in charge and we will move from surviving to thriving.

“To be sure, many of the steps that lead to growth …… go against our natural inclinations to avoid extremely uncomfortable emotions and thoughts. However, it is only through shedding our natural defense mechanisms and approaching the discomfort head on, viewing everything as fodder for growth, that we can start to embrace the inevitable paradoxes of life and come to a more nuanced view of reality.Transcend by Scott Barry Kaufman,


Let me end for now with a quote from one of my long-time heroes Viktor Frankl

“In some ways suffering ceases to be suffering at the moment it finds a meaning.Man’s Search for Meaning

Bewildering Times

Change can be exhausting. At least that is my experience.

I often think of making changes yet when I am faced with radical change as we are in this moment in time I see my pattern of excitement, let’s do it , become manic with activity and finally face the one thing I don’t want to face -change takes time, takes step by step movements, can feel awkward, and is truly exhausting.

Since my work came to a shuddering halt a month ago I have been trying very hard to find alternative ways of connecting; setting up zoom meetings with on- going groups, learning painfully how to do online movement classes, staying in touch with friends and family, making radio programmes for our local community radio on movement and its link to positive mental health and on and on.

I don’t think I have experienced such busyness in a long time. Nor have I spent so much time in the one place for at least 20 years. I have been bumbling through a maze of technology that each evening has left me in a state of total bewilderment.

As an embodiediment practitioner I have noticed my shoulders have been up near my ears, my lower back aching, my fingers tired from using the keyboard and my breath being held more often that released.

Trying to find some simple routine has proved elusive until now. When I finally named my uppermost feelings as one of exhaustion at the pace that had suddenly come upon me, followed by bewilderment at the situation we have all found ourselves in,  I sensed I could begin to breath again. Daniel Siegal’s motto “name it and tame it” never felt more true.

I have begun slowly, to sense my feet coming back down to earth, to allow myself the fullness of the outbreath, to look around at all the beautiful views I have from the windows of my house, to recognise that my brain has needed to catch up with the massive pace of change. And most importantly my mind has a new mantra “I am enough”.

I have been practicing a little practice called G.L.A.D from Donald Altman. It is a way to honour each and every effort I make to meet this challenging time.

G= One gratitude that I am thankful for today – keeping it very simple.

L= One new thing I have learned today- which can be something about myself; a new insight or a new fact. It keeps me open and curious.

A= One small accomplishment today – a new skill or an act of self/other-care/compassion

D= One thing of delight that touched me today-anything that made me smile, laugh or brings a micro moment of joy to the day

I bought myself a new notebook so I could record these 4 aspects of life in the time of Covid  19. To remind myself that in the midst of great pain and danger other aspects of life are also  available. And I thought I would like to share it with you.


That’s about it from a bewildered and bumbling human learning to be Enough❤💕💖


Reorganising after loss

I have recently been contemplating the nature of loss. This may be as a result of noticing myself more and more orientating towards an acceptance of the loss of my home.

Many years ago I read a book on grief, unfortunately I cannot recall the name of the book, yet two words stayed with me -disorganised and reorganised. It spoke of the disorganising effects of loss and in time the need to re-organise around the loss.

These words have been ringing in my head lately as I begin to find enough ground under me to recognise and name my loss, to stop belittling and diminishing it and to recognise it as loss-loss of my home as I knew it for 27 years.

The disorganising effects of loss mirror for me the shadow side of chaos from my work with the 5 Rhythms. The confusion; the not knowing; the lack of solid ground; the empty centre; the rehashing of what I should have done; the inability to settle, to find quiet; the fear of stopping; the absence of enjoyment; the heaviness inside; the fear of making another wrong move; the exhaustion of trying this, that and the other etc., etc.

Finally for no reason clear to me yet something is changing. I am recognising the profound sense of disorganisation I have been swimming round in for the past two and a half years.

I think it was triggered by my reflection lately when I had to cancel a workshop. I had planned it for awhile beforehand, prepared for it and then at the last minute had to cancel it. I felt disappointed and sort of all over the place as to what I would now do with this unexpected “free” weekend. It was a small loss and I reorganised the weekend with ease.

Yet somewhere within the disappointment and sense of sadness around the workshop not happening, the words disorganised/ reorganised popped up and I recalled the book on grief.

Such a relief as I felt to have words to put on my experience over these last two and a half years. (“Name it and tame it” as Daniel Siegel says.) I reflected on the other losses I had experienced through my life -deaths of people and pets, ending of friendships and jobs,- and how each had upended me to various degrees. I noted how life became very different when I was reorganised again.

This time the upending came as quite a shock, like a sudden death I was totally unprepared for.  I have been resisting facing the reality of life now- wanting to turn the clock back , to do things differently, to rewrite the past.

Intellectually I know the past cannot be changed. I can only be where I am now and build a different future.

Emotionally I have been living miles away from my intellect-like my heart and my mind were on different planets.

Recently they have begun to communicate and are slowing coming into alignment. My home as I knew it for 27 years no longer exits. It has been transformed into having a house I love in a beautiful area.

I have begun to visit the house again. I spend a little more time there with each visit. I cut the grass and weed the flower beds. I walk around and see the empty spaces where I have removed paintings, ornaments, bits and bobs I treasured, whilst I rented it for the summer.

For the first time in my life there I had complete strangers staying for a few weeks. Weeks when the house no longer felt as if it belonged to me. I now knocked on the door to check all was ok!

I felt the distance grow even though I was grateful for the guests whose payment helped maintain the house in good order.

Absence and emptiness became bedfellows in my heart and I hated these feelings. I kept very busy so as not to feel their depth. I was afraid of drowning under them. Afraid I would never feel presence and fullness again.

Since disorganisation and reorganisation entered my consciousness they have brought a strange sense of calm within.

The ability to name the disorganisation has been such a gift. Yes it has begun to tame the “runaway train of thoughts ” abounding in my mind.

I have been able to Pause. To see my life as it is now -reorganising almost unbeknownst around me. I am noticing the new people who have entered my life. I am appreciating the difference between living by the sea rather than in the mountains.  I have begun to get involved with the Dark Skies movement in Ireland and across the world. I can recognise how often misplaced loyalty has throw me under the bus and consequently am more wary when in the company  of people I do not know very well. I have a little more tolerance and curiosity of the unknown future opening ahead of me.

As I become less judgemental of myself,  I can see how often I orientate towards kindness and accommodating others. I can reclaim a lot of the goodness I have habitually projected onto others, for myself. I am beginning to breath deeply again. I am proud of the courage I managed to muster to write Against the Wind and I am opening with wonder to the response I have been receiving for speaking openly of loneliness and belonging and still riding a bike in my 60s!

My blood is beginning to feel warm again as it circulates around my heart.

I am curiously wondering who I will be in the future if I am not apologising for my existence and feeling grateful to the wrong people. Who will I be when the reorganising phase has completed its work for now? I say for now, because I am old enough to know another time of disorganising will await me sometime in the future.

Yet right now I want to be present for this reorganising time. I truly want to feel Presence and Fullness alive in my being again. I want to invite enjoyment rather than endurance to guide my decisions into the future. I would like to cycle with the wind at my back as I open to life, freshness, wonder and a new felt sense of “home/belonging” in this world. I want a new map to guide me into the future.

image by Sadhbh O’Neill


Against The Wind-The Book


“At times, our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.” – Albert Schweitzer



Since I finished writing the blog I have not felt inspired to put pen to paper or finger to keyboard until now. In mid 2018 my dear friend Sinéad Mannion set up her publishing company Plasma Publishing to publish a beautiful book of essays written by her late brother Gearóid. After completing that task she announced to me she was now setting about publishing my blog so to go and “get my act together”!

After much humming and hawing and thinking who am I to write a book, I finally got my “act together” and set in train the work involved in making the blog into a book and printing it.

It all came to fruition yesterday 15 June when we launched “Against The Wind from Endurance to Enjoyment”.

The 2670 km cycle  brought me face to face with profound loneliness and what is means to try to fit in as a way to belong.

The writing of the blog helped me make sense of the cycle.

And now the book has brought me into the experience of support and belonging. Whereas the cycle was done on my own, the book has been a community effort.

The people who made it possible are: Sinéad Mannion the publisher; Úna McKeever did the first edit in order to turn the blog into book form; Philip Darling supportively  and beautifully designed the layout; Sadhbh O’Neill painted the stunning covers and front and back insets; Barbara Egan wrote the most warm hearted and elegant Foreword; Geraldine Fitzpatrick did the final edit and Clodoiri Printers produced what is a beautifully textured book: Karen Mannion MC for the launch and Aileen Foran who gave us the beautiful venue and organised the lovely food.  If these where the ingredients that made the book happen Manchán Magan was the icing on the cake as he launched it.

Words cannot portray the level of gratitude I felt throughout the launch. At times I truly felt overwhelmed with the warmth and love I experienced for me and the book. Talk about turning what originally was a devastating experience prior to the cycle into the most amazing experience of my life.

And now I want to extend a huge Thank You to all of you who read and commented on the blog.

The book is available on my website


“Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend.” ― Melody Beattie

Against the Wind – Epilogue

Everything changes –
although this may not seem so now.
Listen into silence
– that which is most difficult
is our shy soul’s preparation for
Some new adventure
Far beyond
what we may imagine.

Sarah Frances


This cycle on the WAW took me to many stunning places on the West coast of Ireland, and  more importantly it took me on a journey inwards that I was not expecting.

It is 9 months since I completed the Wild Atlantic Way (WAW) cycle in Kinsale, Co.Cork and  can finally acknowledge what an epic trip it was, all 2650KM.

I have spent the last 9 months cycling through my inner Wild Atlantic Way. I have ventured deep into the mountains and valleys of the inner life. And it has been as hard if not harder than the actual physical cycle.

I realise changing a core belief system -even if it does not serve one well- is a profoundly difficult experience.  Wishing life was different is radically different than engaging in the process of making that change happen. It is the difference between looking at a film of a cyclist on the WAW and being the cyclist.

I have gather a number of core beliefs throughout my lifetime, which I may have to tackle before I die,  this time round it was the issue of Doubt.

Doubting myself has been with me for as long as I can remember. Almost every thought, action, decision has been plagued by doubt.

Should I do that? What about this? Why did you say that? You should have said this….You should have taken the other road…the other outfit…the other food, the other job, workshop etc., etc.; people don’t really want to hear your opinion; you should give your opinion; you should join that group, you should not join them, they want you, they don’t want you. They are thinking this they are thinking that… need to be careful; you should be spontaneous….and on and on until at times I have doubted my existence on this planet or my mind was about to explode.

Turning away from this deeply held doubting habit left me at times truly wondering who could I possibly be if I did not doubt my every move/thought/feeling? What was the alternative? It was like cycling without a map or signpost as to the direction I was going in…navigating without a compass.  The only thing I really knew and did not doubt was my need for help and support.

I had physically cycled the WAW on my own and swore I’d never put myself mindlessly through such loneliness again. This time as I embarked on the internal WAW I sought out and found an excellent therapist. One who could help me see new signposts and stay with me especially at the times when I could hardly tolerate being with myself. We delved into my dream life -which is actually quite sparse-, my body sensations -which are very accessible and rich- my thoughts, my feelings and anything else that was deemed helpful for this internal odyssey. I wrote, I danced, I cried, I cycled pedal by pedal, and step by step until I could sense something new and different occurring within my mind and my brain. I was entering the territory of  a new belief system -one based on trust. One where I had to learn a new language and way of being.

I was reminded of a time when I was in Peru years ago and walking in the mountains. We had drunk all our water and were thirsty for some juicy fruit. An old woman gave us a bag of lemons as we passed her house in the middle of nowhere.  My immediate reaction was to thank her and to think “oh no I really don’t want lemons and now we also have to carry them !” A mixed bundle of gratitude.

After awhile the thirst got the better of me and I decided that maybe the bitterness of the lemon juice would cut through my thirst so I bit into a lemon bracing myself for the bitter taste. Instead of bitterness I was met by the most lovely sweetness I could imagine. For a moment I thought I was hallucinating but no I was tasting sweet lemons for the first time in my life. We easily made our way through half the bagful. Each time expecting to meet the bitter lemon taste I knew and expected, yet each lemon produced the surprising sweet taste. I kept looking at the yellow of the lemons expecting it to change to some other colour to reflect the taste. I was totally taken by the familiarity on the outside and the complete surprise on the inside.

That is how I feel a lot of these days. Ostensible on the outside I look the same and the external circumstances of my life are more or less the same . Yet internally all is different most of the time. Like the lemons I still keep expecting the bitterness and am being met over and over by the strange and unfamiliar sweetness.

I know doubt inside out and upside down, I know how it shapes me and rules my thoughts, desires and actions. Now I am getting to know the territory of self trust. How it could shape my movements especially as I learn to feel it strongest in my back; how it adds spaciousness and confidence to my mind and thoughts. How it steers me away from perfectionist thinking into the territory of enoughness, excellence, delight and most importantly joyful relaxation. It is like cycling with the wind at my back.

To undertake the WAW cycle I called on the one resource I have had for as long as I can remember -endurance. And this internal journey has also relied on my endurance.

“Endurance” was the name of the ship that embarked on Sir Ernest Shackleton’s Trans-Antarctic expedition of 1914-1917 where all the sailors survived one of the most incredible adventure stories of all times. I loved reading of these adventures as I grew up and especially of Tom Crean’s involvement on this and many other Antarctic expeditions. And I always loved the name of this ill fated boat, as I had made the name of the ship be the description of the quality these men embodied to live to tell their tale- ENDURANCE.

I am glad to give myself credit for also embodying this quality in my external and internal cycle of the Wild Atlantic Way.

I am ending with this photo from the WAW on the South Connemara coastline. I did not take any photos the day of the real cycle as my head was down battling the wind and heavy rain and there was nothing to be seen. This is it on a day when the sun shines dry and bright:)




What are you feeding in 2015

I heard a story once about a Native American elder who was asked how she had become so wise, so happy, and so respected. She answered: “In my heart, there are two wolves: a wolf of love and a wolf of hate. It all depends on which one I feed each day.”

As many of you know I have been studying much of the neuroscience that has come on stream in the last decade or so and especially how it can enhance our experience of the movement meditation practice. One of the interesting things I have found is how the brain is velcro for negativity and teflon for positivity. This basically means that we are so much more orientated towards the negative and it takes commitment, hard work and a willingness, to orientate towards the positive.

The oldest parts of our brains evolved when survival was the most important thing for our ancestors. When they had to be constantly on alert for danger whether it was in the environment or from other bands of hominids. Therefore the part of our brain that saw others as different from ourselves and to be feared was very well developed. Because of this, our inheritance is, that we are also hardwired for negativity. Although as humans we have the most advanced brain-the neocortex- in that we can imagine things being different, we can pause and notice our impulses. We can plan, pay attention, develop compassion and question our beliefs. In order to use this newest brain to our best advantage we have to own our propensity for negativity and its power to control us, and we need to pay mindful attention to the habits each and everyone of us has to feed the wolf of hate.

I think it is vital now that we each begin to take seriously our ways of feeding the wolf of love. In my mind with all the hate that seems to be circulating around the world at the moment we need to apply our imagination to changing this hardwiring in the same way that we need to take global warming seriously or our grandchildren may not be able to enjoy this beautiful world we live in.

I have always kept in mind Mahatma Gandhi’s saying that “whatever you do may seem insignificant , but it is important that you do it” especially when I feel helpless in the face of so much violence and pain in the world and I become convinced that the wolf of hate is running the show. Although it may seem very little in the big scheme of things, each time we pause, notice what we are doing, which wolf we are feeding (and this also includes hurting ourselves by our thoughts or actions ) we are making new neurological pathways in our brains and making a change in the world. Again to quote Gandhi “You must be the change you wish to see in the world”.

I do not believe any one can stand and act as if the wolf of love and the wolf of hate do not live inside each of us. We only have to take the time to look at the parts of ourselves that we project on to others, the parts we disown- the ways we speak about people; the ways we compare ourselves to others and either come up better or worse; the instant and sometimes wrong judgements we make and then operate out of; the ways we put ourselves down; the times we thing we have not enough and need …..when in actual fact we have more than enough; when we deem some people’s lives to be more important than others; when being different is about making the other wrong or less than, or not worthy of equality and on and on……

Some people seem to be feeding the wolf of hate to the point that they are obese with hate these days and thus justify every action they take as there is no room for doubt.

I really believe there is such a thing as “healthy doubt”. By this I mean taking a moment to really notice the direction I am heading. To become interested in what I am about to say or do and to have enough space between my actions to ask the question -Which wolf am I feeding?

This may seem like curtailing my spontaneity, but I don’t believe that. At first like the creation of any new habit it will seem odd, awkward and unfamiliar. Yet what we know about creating habits tells us that some day it will become the norm, the familiar. We will have learned to pay mindful attention to how we live and will be taking full mature responsibility for our action and speech and the consequences of them. We will be well on the road to feeding the wolf of love, of kindness, of justice, equality and true happiness.We will learn to use our great skill of empathy to feed compassion both for ourself and others. Right action can become more the norm and we will openly own when the wolf of hate, criticism, jealousy, fear is rearing its ugly head in our actions.

Maybe this may seem like utopia. Even so I believe if we do not strive for such life on this earth now we will be offering our beautiful earth and the great beauty of being human to the wolves of hate to eat and destroy. I do not want the latter part of my life to be oriented in that direction. I’d rather do insignificant things than do nothing, or say nothing.

I will end using the powerful poem by Thich Nhat Hanh-


Call Me by My True Names

Do not say that I’ll depart tomorrow
because even today I still arrive.

Look deeply: I arrive in every second
to be a bud on a spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with wings still fragile,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
in order to fear and to hope.
The rhythm of my heart is the birth and
death of all that are alive.

I am the mayfly metamorphosing on the surface of the river,
and I am the bird which, when spring comes, arrives in time
to eat the mayfly.

I am the frog swimming happily in the clear pond,
and I am also the grass-snake who, approaching in silence,
feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks,
and I am the arms merchant, selling deadly weapons to

I am the twelve-year-old girl, refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean after being raped by a sea
and I am the pirate, my heart not yet capable of seeing and

I am a member of the politburo, with plenty of power in my
and I am the man who has to pay his “debt of blood” to, my
dying slowly in a forced labor camp.

My joy is like spring, so warm it makes flowers bloom in all
walks of life.
My pain if like a river of tears, so full it fills the four oceans.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and laughs at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart can be left open,
the door of compassion.


Against The Wind Part 6

September 6th: I awoke to a lovely sunny morning in Tralee. I went on a walk about before breakfast and met up with the group of cyclists I had spotted last night. I got talking to one man about their cycle. They were heading to Lahinch and then Galway. They were fundraising for cancer. He was a mixture of impressed and disbelieving when he heard I had cycled from Donegal into the wind and on my own. I almost felt as if I was a child in confession “bless me father I have sinned, I cycled into the wind and on my own”!!!

I waited as they all gathered to take off. I felt a tinge of envy as I saw the outriders, ambulances and pick up cars as back up.

After breakfast I met Geraldine again for a coffee and a final check in as I headed out on the last stage Kerry/Cork of my odyssey. Dingle here I come.

The sun shone as I cycled through Blennerville and out the road to Camp. I love this cycle with the Atlantic on my right and looking across at Ballyheigue and Ballybunion. This was one of my practice routes last year up and down the Conor Pass proving to myself I could cycle up the highest pass in Ireland. I achieved this feat again and stopped to take in yet again this amazing cycle route. As steep as the cycle is uphill the downhill into Dingle is spectacular free wheeling all the way.  I felt a broad smile sweep across my face as  I arrived in Dingle.

I stopped for a coffee and scone and just enjoyed being there watching the world go by, before wandering out by Slea Head. As I approached Dún Chaoin the sun disappeared and a dull grey sky accompanied me to Campail Teach an Aragail my favourite place in the world. Gráinne was there to meet me with our new tent and equipment. I was greeted by TP and Sorcha the owners of the campsite as if I had circumnavigated the globe! I could feel a surge of pride run through me as they questioned me about the trip so far. This couple have made our regular visits a source of delight and joy. I also get to brush up on my Irish as they are native speakers.

After tea and chat we pitched our tent and drove into Dingle for a bit to eat and an Irish music session. We intended to stay for a few days and chill out but if I thought the weather was bad up to now it was set to deteriorate rapidly. Rain, rain and more rain fell and the forecasts were getting worse for storms and high winds. I reassessed my plans and made a decision to cut down the distances and to stay 2 days in some places from now on.

September 9th: We took down the tent, packed the car and  Gráinne drove to Castlemaine. We had a late breakfast and I packed the bike, set the Garmin and hit the road for Cahersiveen.

” I am in the Sive Hostel tonight with the intention of getting up early tomorrow to arrive in Sneem before the wind gets too bad. I am reduced to watching each weather forecast as I enter the last week of this odyssey. I am getting tired of each day having to worry about the weather- Will I make my venue? or will I get stuck? …its just exhausting. I was so very lonely leaving Dingle and then Gráinne …this trip has me all over the place….I love the physical aspect of it and the simplicity of pack, eat, cycle, take a break, back on the bike, find my accommodation, shower, eat, write my diary, bed. As I get physically fitter each day I get mentally more and more challenged…. this ingrained habit of doing everything myself is showing up all the sad and lonely aspects of it that I have been able to keep under wraps until now…….. “ A quote from my diary which I wrote as I sat in the dining room in the hostel. The place was quite full with tourists some who had come to Cahersiveen in order to visit Skellig Michéal. I felt very sorry for them as the landlady had to break the news to them that no boats would be travelling out the next day because of the storm approaching. It is very hard to get on to the rock so they were very disappointed as there was no guarantee they would get out the next day either.

September 10th: After an early breakfast and a chat with a woman from Canada who was telling me she had raised her kids and was now doing all the things she had wanted to do up to now but couldn’t, this included a visit to Skellig Michéal. She was sanguine about not getting there today. It was a lovely way to start the day being inspired by another.

I packed up and left Cahersiveen in dull misty not yet too windy weather. It is a beautiful cycle from Cahersiveen via Skellig Ring, with views out to Valentia Island,  Commaciste, Waterville to Sneem. This is part of the ring of Kerry and full of spectacular scenery especially the view from Commaciste. Today was turning out not to be the day from admiring the scenery. As I made my way up to Commaciste the wind began to get stronger and the mist heavier to the point that I had to get off the bike and walk a few times as the gusts were knocking me all over the place. The irony of this wind was it was actually at my back!!! But because it was so strong and gusty it was of absolutely no benefit. At one stage I heard myself screaming at it ” You are behind me now but you are worse than ever….of no use whatsoever except to keep knocking me off……GO AWAY…….” but of course the wind completely ignored me and just got stronger and stronger as we battled with one another until I finally reached Sneem.

I had a very welcome lunch before looking for my B&B. It was lovely and I was given the Donegal Room” a bit ironic!

After changing out of my wet gear and having the needful shower, I ventured out into the stormy wind -the rain had stopped- and sat in the local hotel reorganising the rest of my trip and booking some accommodation ahead.  With the weather warnings the plan now is Kenmare tomorrow night, Castletownbere Tuesday and Wednesday, Bantry Thursday and Friday, Drimoleague Sat and Kinsale Sunday.

September 11th: I left Sneem after a hearty breakfast and enough to make a lunch for later on. During breakfast I  had a conversation with  a couple from Holland who were walking the Kerry Way. They decided to give up as the ground was so wet underfoot and get a lift to Kenmare and then back to Cork. I didn’t feel so bad with all my complaining about the weather after listening to them.

The wind eased up as I approached Kenmare. I saw a sign for Kilgarvan and had an idea in the back of my head that I ought to know this place- it is not part of the WAW. Off I took to check it out and look what I found-this is the kingdom of the Healy Rae’s the infamous T.D.s for South Kerry. They are true characters. Jackie Healy Rae is perched on the first poster and now dead . His son Michael has taken up the mantel. I had landed in the heart of their kingdom so what could I do but buy a few bits and pieces in the supermarket and contribute to their economy.


I returned to Kenmare in and out of showers and the wind which had returned. I checked into my hostel room, unpacked, showered and changed out of my cycling gear. This is truly a beautiful little town with lots of interesting cafés, shops, pubs and restaurants. I wandered around in and out reminding myself I could not buy anything as I’d have to carry it for a week. I settled for a new pair of waterproof gloves. Believe it or not it is actually very hard to find a pair of fully waterproof gloves as I found out each day I had heavy rain. I also bought the makings of my dinner and returned to the hostel to put it all together.

I met a lovely young man from Belgium-his girlfriend was not feeling and was in bed-. We sat drinking tea as he told me about his life in Belgium. He is training to be a doctor We had a lot to compare and contrast about the two health systems. I’m sorry to say the Irish system came out badly. But we came out on top for friendliness and ordinary caring as he recounted to me some of the experiences they had as they walked the Kerry Way. At one stage he fell as he crossed a stream and all his clothes got soaked. The B&B they were booked into took them, washed and dried them free of charge. He was truly surprised and I was surprised that he was surprised- sure what else would we do????

The landlady had told me earlier that there would be music in many of the pubs around 7.30pm. I really didn’t believe her as so far all my experiences of music in pubs had started after 9pm and more like 10pm. By that time at night I was only fit for the bed! My doubts were short-lived as I wandered down the town. Passing one pub the music sounded good so in I went. It was full of tourists having dinner and enjoying really good traditional Irish music. And lo and behold it finished at 9.30pm. All I could think was how well the Kerry people know how to cater for tourists that do not want to stay up all night. Actually Kerry is the stand out place for tourism in my estimation.

I sat up at the bar ordered a drink and started on my diary. I was so engrossed in writing that I didn’t properly hear a man a few seats down from me ask was I writing a book? I looked up when I realised he was addressing me and saw two Americans  finishing dinner. I replied no, not a book just my diary of the cycle so I’d remember it! We got into a great chat. This was their first trip to Ireland and so far they were thoroughly enjoying themselves. I was delighted to be able to encourage them to visit different parts of the WAW as they had a hired car. They filled me in on their ever so interesting life in Pennsvlanyia. They were now into retirement and travelling to places they had had on their bucket list for years. We had a drink together and by the end of our conversation they had a plan for the rest of their holiday! I have become so much more comfortable chatting  with strangers in pubs and having very interesting conversations to brighten my cycle. Each and everyone of them have been so encouraging about my adventure- hopefully it will begin to rub off on me by the time I end.

September 12th: I left Kenmare at 8am with the intention of getting to Castletownbere before the weather deteriorated again as was being forecast. I decided to take the coast road and it was a good decision as it was truly beautiful from Touist to Lauragh. The road had overhanging trees and then spectacular views across to the Iveragh Peninsula. I was leaving Kerry and entering Cork the final county on the WAW.


I stopped in Ardgroom for the coffee and scone break. Yes I was finding my lovely coffee shops in all the towns and villages of Kerry. The village was  painted in such beautiful colours as were the villages of Eyeries and Allihies. The were undoubtably the most colourful places so far, I came to my own conclusion that some very creative and courageous people must live around here, who were willing to risk creating villages full of delight. I decided as the weather was good -maybe the weather forecast was wrong?????-I’d take in Allihies instead of taking the main road. Well I was no sooner out the WAW when the weather suddenly changed- as it can coming in off the Atlantic Ocean. The wind swept in from the sea and the rain lashed down. I saw nothing of the area and had to pass through Allihies with my head firmly down and focussed on staying on the bike. I passed Dzchogen Beara Meditation Centre. The only way I could identify it, was seeing some Buddhist looking flags blowing in the wind.

I had no idea how much further I had to go to reach Castletownbere as there was not a sign to be seen anywhere. Finally I saw a poster for a café so decide I must be near. I was praying it would be easy to find my B&B as  by now I was like a drowned rat. Much to my delight the first B&B sign had the name of mine on it. Oh such joy to be at my destination. I was met by a lovely man who had no problem with me walking through the house dripping wet. Off with everything. I was thrilled to find I could put on the heat and dry everything. I collapsed on the bed and fell asleep for an hour.

When I came to, I donned the now dry wet gear and headed off to check out Castletownbere.


My landlord explained to me later that he thought the town was caught between Bantry in Cork and Kenmare in Kerry and tourists only used it to stop off. He was delighted I was staying 2 nights. It is an actual working fishing town on the Beara Peninsula. Some boats had come into the harbour sheltering from Storm Aileen. At last an official storm! I bought a few bits and pieces returned to the B&B and watched TV for the evening listening to the wind and rain hitting the bedroom windows.

September 13th. It was an unusual experience to get up have breakfast and not pack up for my next destination. I felt a freedom to just explore the area for the day. The storm had passed and we were now back to normal wind and showers in the morning. Off I took to the Healy Pass another nice climb with stunning views of both Cork and Kerry from the top.


I decided to go up  and down the same way as I wanted to visit the Dzchogen Beara Meditation Centre after all I had heard about it. I honestly have to say after my experience of Mamór Pass in Donegal no other climb has felt as difficult and I give myself full permission to enjoy the freewheeling downhill. I don’t think any photograph can ever give the full experience of the height of these hills. I returned to Castletownbere and continued on to the Dzchogen Beara. By now the showers had stopped  and the sun came out. I spent two of the most calm and easy hours there.

I had lunch in the café and a lovely chat with the man serving. I then sat in meditation, walked in meditation and generally gave myself permission to enjoy my time there. It was so good for me. The quiet, being alone yet not lonely. Sitting looking across at Sheep’s Head was so beautiful and calming. I felt an ease descend on me as I sat and contemplated this journey I was on. How it had become a cycle out of one life that I knew well and was now a cycle into the unknown. I knew as I sat there I could not return to life as I had know it in Recess for 27 years…something had to change and right now I did not know what that was. Dzchogen Beara seemed to lend itself to this kind of contemplation being ok. I sort of felt many people had passed through this Centre looking for something new, something meaningful in their lives. I had the sense of not being so alone in my quest for meaning, belonging, mattering.

As I cycled away I took something with me. I was not a stupid person to have the feelings I was having. I was having a very difficult time, I was grieving the loss of a life as I had known it and somehow I was not alone in this. I began to feel grateful for Storm Aileen otherwise I would not have stayed 2 nights in Castletownbere and I would have missed this place.   “You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated.” MAYA ANGELOU  sprang to mind.

My cycle back to town was so beautiful as now I could see all I had missed yesterday.


Back to my B&B. Shower, change back into my “civies” off to the local hotel for dinner, and my diary date. Back to B&B, packed my bags ready for the morning and then bed.

September 14th: After breakfast and a nice closing chat with my landlord I packed the bike, set the Garmin and checked the Gopro for batteries. Left Castletownbere in nice sunshine and the odd shower, cycling through Glengarriff, Ballylicky and Whiddy Island in the distance.


Yet again this is a very beautiful part of the country. It has a micro climate which allows plants and trees not common in the rest of Ireland to grow here. I very much enjoyed the trip to Bantry my destination for the night. Again I had my fair share of lovely coffee shops to choose from, for my now almost compulsory coffee stop!

I arrived into Bantry round lunchtime. This was a bustling busy town and I received many different directions to my Airbnb. I think I saw an extra amount of the town as I was sent up and down streets that were nowhere near my destination. One woman confessed to having lived all her live in the town but could not figure out how to give me directions. Eventually I found it. Airbnbs can be harder than normal B&Bs to find as they do not have signs outside their houses.

I was greeted by two very friendly people who had just started their Airbnb a few months earlier. They were fascinated by my trip and very keen to get the details of where I had been. This is my final time staying with friendly strangers and I’ll be here two nights.

After my chat which at moments veered into a kind of interrogation about the trip, I unpacked my saddle bags, repacked a small bag and took off to explore Sheep’s Head Peninsula. This cycle was again spectacularly beautiful, up and down some steep little roads, sunshine all the way and my usual companion -wind.

On my outward trip I met my second cycling group. There was loads of them all dressed the same, with cars to the front and to the back. They were in bunches or alone all heading into Bantry. I’d find out later that they were cycling the inaugural WAW Cycling Sportif. This seemingly will become an annual WAW cycle in September for cycling clubs from abroad and Ireland. It looks very well organised and people are well taken care, and a good idea to extend the WAW season.

As they passed me by I did feel a twinge of longing for their organisation and the company of other cyclists. The longing actually grew inside as I cycled towards Seefin Point.  When I got there I decided to let my cycle to Sheep’s Head tip go, as I was truly tired of being in beautiful places with no one to share them with. Just another few days of my own crazy-making company. I thought I’d try maybe something different this day-kindness. Yes it would be ok to let this part of the cycle go. I could return here in the future. I’m constantly amazed at how hard I find it to practice self-kindness. But today it was top of the agenda! So I circled back to Bantry enjoying the views, the whooshes down the hills and the sun on my face.

I decided to have dinner before I went back to the B&B as it is a bit up above the town itself. The hotel I chose happened to be the same as the Cycling Sportif riders. They were all in the bar having drinks and meals, now my longing had turned to envy and a stronger resolve not to take this trip again without company to share it with.  With that I decided to enjoy being on the edge of many people while I ate my dinner and wrote my diary. I had a nice walk around Bantry as I walked my bike back to the Airbnb.

September 15th:  After another very chatty breakfast I packed a little bag  for my trip to Mizen Head and back. There was a farmers’ market starting up as I went through Bantry town. I stopped and stocked up with some lovely brown bread, rye bread and cheese. Stocked up for lunch for the next few days.

I cycled via Schull. When I was a teacher in the VEC in Cobh, Co. Cork being sent to Schull was like a “threat” if you misbehaved! As it was so far away those days -I had no car and Carlow where my family lived was days away I tried my best to behave! Years later when I visited Schull for the first time I was kinda sorry I had behaved!!!!!! It was and is a beautiful town in West Cork. I took a few moments to visit some good memories I had of the area before continuing on towards Mizen Head.

On route I passed Barley Cove where a film was being shot. Such a beautiful place and day for it. This looked like a very popular place for holiday makers. But today other than the film crew the stunning beach was deserted.


I continued on some tiny little roads to Mizen Head. There was lots of traffic to contend with as many people seemed to be visiting Mizen Head as well. I was amazed at the difference between the development of Mizen Head in comparison to Malin Head. Mizen Head has a big restaurant. You can sit inside or outside; a large car park; a playground for children and a walk along the cliffs. Such a contrast to Malin Head with its mobile café!

I sat and took in the beauty around me and because the day was so clear I could see Fastnet Rock in the distance.The Fastnet Lighthouse is known as The Teardrop of Ireland, the last sight of Ireland for emigrants sailing to America. I had also heard about it in reports from some sailing competitions as it has very dangerous seas around it and numerous people have been rescued there. My lunch from the market in Bantry tasted so good as I sat outside watching all the various people meander around the complex. At this point I have cycled from the most Northerly part of Ireland to the most Southerly on the longest cycling route possible.

After a very pleasant break I turned to face into a fairly hearty wind on my way to Bantry. I was able to return on a different road so had more new views to take in. I stopped in Durrus and had a pint of cider as I was beginning to wilt a little. This gave me the lift I needed and I arrived back in Bantry feeling physically quite tired. It was a 100km round trip. I showered, had a bit of a rest and went in search of dinner. I found another nice hotel bar and had a very tasty dinner. This is my last night on my own. My last dinner on my own. My last B&B on this trip. I am so glad  I have actually reached this far and have so many mixed feelings about it ending. I want to keep cycling but I do not want to spend any more time on my own.

September 16th : After breakfast and farewells I hit the road for Ballydehob. I had quite an unexpected climb from Bantry to Ballydehob so I decided I had earned a stop and a very nice coffee in a the local health food shop and café. The next part of the journey took me to Skibbereen. I really like this town and had to keep reminding myself I could not buy anything as I was still on a bike!

I decided to add in Baltimore as it is part of the WAW and I had plenty of time before I met my friend Margaret. Off I went on one of those round trips out and back. I don’t know what I was expecting but for some reason Baltimore did not live up to my expectations. Maybe I’m just tired and also the day was getting very dull.

I sat outside a nice pub and finished off some of my bits from the farmer’s market in Bantry. I returned to Skibbereen in the rain and wind. Rarely have I managed to have a fully fine day. I eventually found the road to Drimoleague as it is not part of the WAW. My friend Margaret lives there and as it is only 10km from Skibbereen I was thrilled to go and visit with her for the night.

I waited in one of the local pubs for Margaret to arrive and was entertained by a man who was walking around West Cork relaying his adventures to the lads at the bar. On Margaret’s arrival she gave me directions to her house and I cycled out ahead of her. She got some shopping for our dinner.

Again I was stuck by the depth of my appreciation for my friends and the warmth of the welcome. I unpacked all my bags and was able to dry out my wet gear. Dinner, wine and a great catch up made my night.  I slept soundly on this the final night of my WAW Cycling Odyssey.

September 17th: The final day has arrived. It is bright, sunny and at this moment no wind-yippee. I chatted with Margaret over a healthy breakfast, packed my saddle bags for the final time, set the Garmin to record my final stage and I was ready for off.

My spirits were high as I returned to Skibbereen and this time took the road to  Clonakilty. This part of the cycle took me to Union Hall and Glandore. As it was early on Sunday morning I had these small roads to myself. When I stopped in Glandore to take in the view I met two women out for an early walk. It was such an enjoyable experience to cycle up and down the roads with no wind. I was fascinated that this last day was looking as if it would be one of the best weather-wise. I stopped in Rosscarbery  and took a look around at the town my parents had spent their honeymoon in 61 years ago. I’m sure it has made a lot of changes since then-I found it bright and cheerful on this sunny morning.

On I continued to Clonakilty. The last time I was here all the streets were dug up as they had suffered very badly in the flooding earlier in the year. They did great job and the main street is so very pleasant to walk through. I stopped to ask group of young men the correct road  to Timoleague, as yet again the sign posting was not great. The road to Ballinspittle is along the edge of the sea and very beautiful. But much to my profound disappointment/annoyance the wind arrived to accompany me the rest of my trip. I truly wondered did it think I was missing it too much. I almost cried.

By the time I reached Ballinspittle I was ready for a break. Ballinspittle is the town associated with the moving statues of the 1980’s. For a few months back then people flocked to this little town to see or not see the statue of Our Lady moving in the grotto on the outskirts of the town. Well I can honestly say nothing moved today!

I had a most lovely hearty bowl of soup sitting in the sun outside a café I remembered visiting before. A young couple with two kids were having their lunch. We struck up a conversation about the cycle. I was almost impressed myself with it as these two young people couldn’t imagine doing it!!!!

After they left I had a conversation with myself and the wind. Would I continue on to Kinsale Head or let it go and make straight for Kinsale itself. I finally surrendered to the wind. It won. I had to acknowledge its superior power, bow down to it, stop fighting and head straight for Kinsale. My sister and brother-in-law Geraldine and Don were waiting for me there. I texted to say I was 10km away. 10km from the finish-2660km behind me…..

On the edge of the town I was met by two cheering, mad looking people running towards me- my welcoming party. I imagine the people nearby must have been wondering what was going on as we hugged and cried. I had completed the Wild Atlantic Way from top to bottom, and they were so proud of me. Texts came flying in as the completion photos were sent around to the rest of my family and friends. They were all so thrilled for me…….I didn’t know how I was feeling….

It was also All Ireland Football Final Sunday and Mayo were out to see if they could break their 51 year drought by beating Dublin. We unpacked the bike, locked it up and headed for a pub with a TV. Unfortunately Mayo lost in the final kick of the match. I truly felt so sad for them.

Back to the car. Hitched the bike on to the bike rack and off we all went to Kanturk on this the final day of my odyssey.

My physical cycle was over but my emotional and mental cycle was to continue.



Against the Wind part 5

2nd. September.

Saddle bags packed with fresh clean clothes, washed shoes, fresh supplies of fruit and nuts, book, diary and pens. Wet gear on, Garmin in place and Go pro in my pocket. ( I had downloaded all my videos and photos taken on route to date. When I looked at the videos I realised I had videoed hours of roadway!!!! I laughed heartily as I had worn it everyday on my helmet or bike thinking I  was capturing stunning views, instead I had hours of broken white lines. It summed up the nature of much of my trip so far-head down and bracing against the wind. I decided this time I’d stop every now and again and video around me rather than wear it on my helmet.).

I hit the road round 9.30am in a heavy mist. Down the Inagh Valley to Cashel Cross and back on to the WAW. After about 15 km the mist turned to rain and the wind  strengthened.  The two previous days had been dry and sunny. Was someone telling the rain and wind gods and goddesses that I was back on the bike????

This trip to Galway took me on roads I knew well as they had been part of my training routine over the past year. On a dry sunny day this route through Letterard, Carna, Casla, Inverin, Barna and Galway is beautiful with views across Galway Bay. But today all that was non existent. The rain bucketed down relentlessly and the wind was merciless in its strength.

I made one stop in a lovely café for coffee and lunch in Casla. I decided to opt to sit indoors this time even if I was to leave puddles of water under my table. It was a busy spot as I’d say many people where looking for a place to get a bit to eat and refuge from the rain and wind. I have noticed how much I like sitting in cafés, restaurants and pubs that have lots of people around. I think for that few moments I can feel part of a group  rather than the relentless isolation of the cycle.

When I finished I donned my wet gear -I no longer call it rain gear- and headed non stop for Galway city.  I was staying with my friend Marion for the night. The days I know I will end up staying with a friend have an easier quality to them. I have something nice to look forward to and will have someone who knows me to chat with and discuss the emotional issues of the cycle.

I had the most lovely hot shower to refresh me. I think water is a bit like weeds….bear with me in my imaginings, remember my mind is probably soaking wet with all the rain I have endured….. it is said “a weed is just a flower growing in the wrong place”. Well in my mind rain is water falling in the wrong place!!!! A shower is water falling in the correct place and I have to say each night on the trip I took great pleasure and felt blessed as I turned the faucets and out came hot water to ease my tired and sore muscles.  This night was no different.  Marion had the fire lighting so I could dry out my gear. A lovely meal, a bottle of wine, great conversation all prepared me for a nights sleep.

Through our conversation I had been able to finally find the word to describe the trip. Marion had asked was I enjoying the cycle. As I reflected I realised the word was endure not enjoy. My fantasy trip had been based on enjoyment, whereas the real trip was an endurance test especially mentally and emotionally. Physically as I have said before it was a surprise how fit I was. Every evening as I looked in the mirror I was constantly surprised to see a fit, tanned and very healthy woman look back at me. I kept expecting to see a haggard, old woman but no, my outside was looking very different to my inside -yet again the story of my life, a mismatch.

3rd. September.

Repacked my bags, had breakfast, waved goodbye to Marion and headed out the road to Oranmore. The morning was grey and misty. Being Sunday the roads were very quiet. I also reckoned most of Galway had headed to Dublin and Croke Park as the All Ireland Hurling final between Galway and Waterford was on in the afternoon. I was hoping I might find somewhere to watch it on route.

Off I went through Oranmore and on to Kilcolgan. I stopped here for a coffee in the mist and then off again towards Kinvara. It was still damp and dull as I past through this lovely little town. I met my first early morning tour bus as tourists piled out and wandered across the road as only tourists can, to see the castle ruins. I managed not to knock any down or be knocked off my bike by groups of disembodied people chatting and absorbed in their wish to see the castle.

As I nearer Ballyvaughan the mist began to lift and I had my first view of the amazing landscape of the Burren.

No matter how many times I visit this area I am always taken aback by the limestone hills that give the appearance of a lunar landscape in my mind.  I had the pleasure of removing all my wet gear and cycled along in shorts and light cycling gear. The one positive about the weather has been the lack of cold. It has felt quite tropical at times….warm and wet!

I decided to stop around Gleninagh for lunch. It was beautiful looking across Galway Bay to the roads I had travelled yesterday into Galway. I could see the Twelve Bens in the distance. I had no sooner sat down and opened my lunch when the mist came billowing in from Finore around the corner.  On went the wet gear and my lunch was hastily put back under cover so save it getting soggy. I was joined in my little layby by an Indian family who also decided to stop and have lunch. The smell of curry was mouth watering as they dished it out from the back of their  car.  The mist was not deterring any of them from enjoying it.

I packed up all my bits and pieces and took off for Fanore. As I rounded the bend to view this beautiful beach it was like someone lifted a veil and the sun beam out. The change was striking as can be seen in the two photos below.


The rest of my journey to Milltown Malbay was cycled in warm sunshine. At times I was actually in shorts, tee shirt and for the first time out came my sunglasses. They had been a gift from my nephew in Australia but had not seen the light of day till now. Oh the joy of a pair of sunglasses!!! I actually managed to top up my tan! I finally experienced the weather I had dreamed of….a slight breeze and warm sunshine. The coastline of Co. Clare has always delighted me, the beaches, the rock formations, the cliffs all so radically different than anywhere else I had been. I cycled on through Doolin and Liscannor  listening to the match on my radio although the signal was a bit erratic. I still kept hoping I’d find somewhere to see at least some of it.

Luck was on my side. In Lahinch I heard cheers coming from a pub whose door was wide open. I stopped and realised this was ideal. I could park the bike outside, stand near the door to keep an eye on it and still watch the last 20 minutes of the match. I ordered my usual pint of cider and as I leaned against the wall a man offered me his seat. I declined as I had been sitting on the bike for quite awhile and was enjoying standing upright. We got chatting as I am beginning to notice happens in pubs where matches are been shown and I’m also longing for connection so I take up each offer with gusto now. He was an avid Galway supporter so he filled me in on the seed, bred and generation of all the Galway lads playing. He made the experience extra interesting. Well the cheers of delight when the final whistle blew and Galway won could be heard far and wide. We were a on a high- I am becoming such a GAA fan!

The trip to Milltown Malbay felt so easy as I returned to listening to the commentary on the radio- utter delight for Galway and utter devastation for Waterford. I have learned that All Ireland Finals are never neutral events, they are packed with emotion on one side or the other and today was no different. I landed in my friends Mary and PJ’s house in Carrokeel just outside Milltown in time to appreciate the best sunset of my trip to date.

I had the house to myself as my friends were wandering around France in their camper van. It was nice again to be able to make my own dinner and relax in a house I knew. As ever I spent some time writing up my diary of the day. It was definitely weather-wise the best day so far. I could feel the “sun burn on my arms and legs” and see the outline of the sunglasses on my face. It was a good day and in the midst of that goodness was a vein of sad loneliness. The loneliness had a different quality to it as I am now mainly cycling roads and routes I have been on before.

Earlier in the trip the loneliness  had been like a huge grey cloud sitting on the back of the bike, with its relentlessly critical voice telling me how stupid I was to embark on this trip; how I should have known beforehand how hard it would be; if only I was more sociable I would not be in this position; maybe I’ll never fit in; wasting my life; just get on with it; get over yourself  no one has died; stop being so self-pitying, so dramatic and  on and on and on…..I just could not stop them. My mind felt like one of those old fashion LP  vinyl records stuck on the record player going round and round with no let up.

Since I entered more familiar territory it had a quieter quality to it, almost as if it had seeped under my skin. The feeling of loneliness had caught me by surprise at the beginning of the cycle and had shouted its messages to me back then. This quote spoke volumes to me:

” of the most influential motivators of my own life, the longing to belong, was shaping me in ways that I was largely unconscious of, until it finally grabbed me by the hair and pulled me deep into its terrifying dimensions.” Toko-pa Turner.

Now I had come to accept somewhat reluctantly that this was my companion and there was no point in fighting it. My job was to try and open to being curious about it and why it was being revealed to me at this stage in my life. Why had a 2670km cycling trip opened up the doors of belonging, fitting in and loneliness at this time in my life?

4th September:

I hung around the house the next morning hoping the heavy mist that had returned would lift. By 10am I gave up waiting, donned the wet gear and headed for Kilkee via Quilty and Doonbeg. Doonbeg is the home of Donal Trump’s Golf resort. I had the great pleasure of seeing it for miles along the road. Actually it is impossible to avoid it as it is located on the highest point in the area!!

I continued on to Kilkee with the intention of stopping off for a coffee. I expected to enter a buzzing town but instead it was virtually empty-like a ghost town. The only thing missing was tumbleweed rolling down the main street. I felt so sorry for the people there as their tourist season must be extremely short-lived. The beautiful beach was empty.

I found a small supermarket and bought a few bits and pieces for lunch and off I took to Loop Head. One of the reasons the WAW is so long is the double journeys in and out to the coast. This was one such. It’s approximately a 60km round trip from Kilkee to Loop Head! It also has to be the flattest road so far, well actually Co. Clare is mainly flat road cycling on the WAW. Believe it or not half way out the Loop Head road I began to long for a hill and had some nostalgic feelings for the hills of Donegal…..At least the wind was still with me -no fear of being abandoned by it on this trip. I cycled into it on the way out and thankfully I had it with me most of the way back. The lighthouse is beautiful with an unobstructed view right out the Atlantic Ocean. I have great respect for these lighthouses and the vitally important work they do in keeping boats and people safe.

After a lovely walk around the grounds to the cliffs I sat on the grass and had my lunch before embarking on the  reverse cycle. The high point of my return journey was stopping to let 200 cows cross the road for milking! I know the number as the farmer’s daughter was stopping traffic and we got chatting about the number of cows and the length of time it takes to milk them, approximately 2 hours.  Co. Clare seems to be full of fields of cows much more than I’d seen to date.

I had intended staying in a B&B about 5km outside Kilrush, but as I listened to the weather forecast for the next day I decided if I could get as near as possible to Killimer  -I was getting the ferry to Tarbert- it would be best.

As I stood on the street in Kilrush looking at my map a kind man asked if I needed help.  He informed me that Killimer was only 10km from Kilrush. When I enquired if he knew any B&B there he took out his phone and looked up the number of a pub he knew that might have accommodation. After thanking him I rang the pub. They did not do accommodation but they had the number of the B&B opposite the car ferry. I looked up to book a bed only to find it was full!!! I decided to ring them anyway and boy was I delight I did. Yes they had a bed. I was standing outside it in half an hour later. A lovely woman greeted me and showed me to a very comfortable room. We discovered through our conversation that she had no other bookings, which surprised her as she always has someone heading for the ferry. We checked it out to discover she was mistakenly booked up on Thankfully she was able to rectify it before she lost much business. So I was delighted with the bed for the night and she was delighted I had looked to book in…a win-win for both of us!

After a shower and change into my only non cycling clothes I headed to the pub for a lovely dinner and a new type of cider, Cronins absolutely lovely. I had a great chat with the owners of the pub as the man was a cyclist. We spent about an hour comparing cycling highs and lows! These random conversations are like  precious gems to me now and I have stopped holding myself back when someone offers to chat or is interested in what I am up to. I was well fit for bed by the time I left the pub.

5th September: The rain that was forecasted fell during the night so by breakfast it was just grey and dull. I felt a wave of excitement for the first time on this trip as I walked to the ferry. I was heading for Kerry my favourite county in Ireland and a few days camping near Dingle-my definition of happiness.

For all my years camping in Kerry I had never explored north Kerry before. This would be another day of unknown roads- yet being in Kerry I did not feel quite so alone!!! I would end my day in Tralee and meet my sister Geraldine….all positive things to look forward too.

My first stop of the day was in Ballybunion. After my experience of Kilkee I was  a little wary of going there and finding another empty seaside town but no there were people wandering around and  I found a lovely café with delicious brown bread and coffee. Another conversation was struck up with two people sitting outside a small art gallery. I am actually becoming quite adept at the art of easy conversations. And my well packed bike is often an opening to the positive side of Irish curiosity! I took some time to wander around this town, its beach and castle ruins before a huge shower fell.

As I left Ballybunion the road took me alongside the famous Ballybunion golf course and a statue erected to Bill Clinton. Many famous people have play golf here-seemingly.  One would think I was an avid golf player but I definitely am not. My dad was an excellent player who tried his best to get me to play it but to no avail. That little white ball annoyed the life out of me. But as other members of my family play I am kept up to date on all golf matters…..

I came to a T junction Ballyheigue 2km to the left , the WAW route to the right, off I went cycling  around Kerry Head – a 40 km trip to Ballyheigue!!!! Again the weather took a change for the better and out came the sun. Unfortunately the wind got stronger and it was a full blown head wind all along the coast. The fields were very busy with famers making hay and silage so there was a great air of activity all round. I was also meeting lots of cars and the start of the camper vans. Kerry was busy with tourists everywhere and later in the day I was to meet my first group of cyclists!!!  Ballyheigue beach was magnificent with the waves rolling in as the wind was enjoying itself as it was blowing wholeheartedly now.

By the time I reached Ardfert I decided I’d go straight to Tralee and bypass Fenit. I just didn’t have the heart to face into the wind on the way to Fenit. Mentally I put it on my list to do in the future. My sister Geraldine rang to check my estimated time of arrival in Tralee. I assured her I was not going to Fenit so I ought to be in Tralee in about an hour. Decision made I set off with my spirits good, looking forward to being in Tralee and having time with Geraldine.

Much to my absolute surprise about 30 minutes later I found myself 2km outside Fenit with no notion how I got there!!!!!!! Being so close I decided I’d go and see what Fenit looked like. I have to say I was not disappointed as it was absolutely beautiful looking out at Fenit Lighthouse and I sent the two photos below to Geraldine to surprise her with where I had ended up.

As I turned for Tralee I had the most fabulous surprise as the wind was with me and I had the sheer delight of being whooshed into Tralee. I barely had to pedal and realised just what I had been missing cycling into the wind all the time. I imagined it took me a few minutes to get to the edge of Tralee.  I found my B&B in a lovely small hotel in the heart of Tralee. The staff understood cycling and helped me put my bike away safely. I noticed a group of men and women having drinks in the foyer to find out the next day that they were a group of cyclists cycling from Sneem to Galway for charity. Right now a hot shower beckoned and I was ready for dinner and good conversation with Geraldine. I was so thrilled to be in Kerry:)

Against the Wind part 4


August 26th: Refreshed after a day off the bike and lots of great conversations with Rita that began to help me sort out some of what I was emotionally feeling on this cycle, I set off from Rosses Point to Killala in Co. Mayo. I realised I was- metaphorically speaking- taking my life in my hands as I placed my Kerry flag in my bike. It was the replay of the drawn match between Kerry and Mayo and I knew there would be a great desire for Mayo to win. As I cycled through Mayo I think most people must have gone to support their team as it was very quiet on the roads. I saw one other Kerry flag on route …we were in the minority and in the end Mayo won. Sad and all as I was for Kerry not to win I could not begrudge Mayo another chance at the All Ireland. That was to be played on the final day of my cycle.

It was a dull morning with a heavy mist as I left Sligo town heading for Strandhill. This cycle was the first on familiar roads as I had often driven here on my way to teach in Sligo. It actually felt good inside to know for once where I was going, at least this first stage into Strandhill. It was very quiet as I stood looking at the waves that relentless roll onto the beach here and provide surfers with so much delight.

From here I headed to Balisodare, Easky and Enniscrone. I was now back on unfamiliar territory.  I stopped at a church fête near Balisodare and bought myself coffee and some lovely brown bread. I was so enthuastic about the homemade breads and cakes, home grown fruit and veg that I made the fatal mistake of stocking up only to realise I now had quite a bit of extra weight to carry. Well at least I was assured I’d have a good supply of wholesome food for the next few days!!!

The cycle was interesting in that most of it was damp and dull with little or no wind and hardly a hill to be seen. My first day of flat cycling. The views across the bay to Donegal were beautiful and interesting to realise I had been looking the opposite way two days earlier.

I arrived in Killala in the late afternoon and found I had booked into a very quaint B&B over a pub full of Mayo supporters. The building was very old and the room had a slight tilt to the left which gave the impression that I was moving sideways as I walked around the room!! Even in bed I thought I would slide out of it.


Killala had an air of old fashionedness about it, as if I had stepped back in time. It had lots of pubs, one supermarket I could find and a really lovely restaurant. I had a delicious meal there. It was such a new thing for me to eat in a classy restaurant on my own. This cycle is throwing up opportunities for me to experience many new things. I have spent so much of my life doing things on my own and yet I never experienced being alone in doing them. This cycle has such a different quality of aloneness to it. I think it is the constancy of it …I cycle on my own, I eat on my own and I stay in the B&Bs on my own, I talk to myself. It truly is shining a light on an aspect of my life I have lived yet not fully experienced before.

Over the last year I paid a lot of attention to getting physically fit, to be able for the amount of cycling required. Now I have no worries about completing the cycle and am not questioning my fitness. On the other hand I paid only cursory attention to the mental side of the cycle. I think because I was cycling in Ireland I didn’t imagine for a moment being lonely or  lost. Maybe if I’d been going abroad it would have dawned on me. Anyway I now am beginning to accept it is part and parcel of this trip -just like the wind! I meditated on staying brave and acknowledging the aloneness as a way to give myself support. I developed the manta “Courage before me, courage to my right, courage to my left, courage behind me, courage above me, courage below me. Courage in my body especially my legs, courage in my heart and courage in my mind.” I recited this over and over as I pedalled the highways and by ways. I felt the words slowing sinking in as the days passed.

27th August: Today’s cycle took me to Belmullet via The Céide Fields and the cliffs of north Mayo. 

Thankfully this part of the journey had stunning views as I spent quiet an amount of time “lost”. Again the WAW signage was totally inadequate and I just had to find a way to keep trusting myself as I cycled up and down tiny roads some with grass growing up the middle! The WAW is definitely not organised  around solo cyclists.  I met absolutely no one for the first half of the day. I truly wondered did anyone live in this part of Mayo. The trip from Ballycastle to Belmullet was  very tough. I realise I find cycling hours of bogland very challenging and lonely. Somehow the landscape as in South Donegal gives off the feel of deep sadness and emptiness. I could not find a pub or coffee shop open so I had lunch by the side of the road in Pól a Thómas. My purchases at the fête in Balisodare were feeding me well and I was also lightening my load.

The weather deteriorated by the time I reached my B&B in Belmullet. I could hardly see around me with rain and the wind was blowing a gale. To this day I do not fully know what kind of B&B I stayed in. Again I only had text contact with whoever owns the house. The key was under the potted plant and I was the only person there. My room was lovely and big but so weird to have a house to myself.  I found out in the morning that it was bed only as there was no sign of a breakfast anywhere!

28th August. I left this strange bed and no breakfast house around 9.30am. I kept putting off leaving as it was so wet and windy. Finally I decided I had to bite the bullet and go, otherwise I’d not get to Achill- my destination for today.

I had decided I would head straight for Bangor as it was so bad but again the rain eased up and off I went on the WAW 10 km outside Belmullet. A trip that would have taken me 20km directly to Bangor took 50km on the back roads to Bangor via Tullaghan. Again the WAW signage proved none existent and at one point I actually had to call into a house to ask where was I plus get directions out of the area. The people were very helpful and interested in the trip -although they were not envious of the weather – lashing rain and wind. They set me on the correct road and although I can imagine it is very beautiful around this area I could see nothing. Head was down as I made my way up and down the hilly roads eventually arriving in Bangor.

I stopped for coffee before heading to Mulranny via Ballycroy National Park. This park is very interesting as it has a special status as a dark sky area and they are very proud of this achievement in the area.

By the time I reached Mulranny I was wall falling. A huge wave of tiredness hit me so I decided a bottle of cider and a sandwich were in order in the Mulranny Hotel. It did the trick! I never felt my cycle on the greenway to Achill.  I was helped enormously by the fact that the sun came out and the rain stopped.

It was a most beautiful ride into Keel and my B&B. But this was not the end of my cycle as my landlady encouraged me to continue on to see Keem beach. She was right in that it was beautiful. But I decided only someone who does not cycle would encourage someone who had cycled 110km to her B&B to keep going for 30km more including a very steep climb up and down twice! She did check if I was fit???? I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at that question as we had been discussing the last 110km I had travelled!!!!

When I finally completed  my cycle for the day I headed to the local hotel for a bite to eat and another cider- I never drank so much cider in my life but it has become a lovely treat. The hotel was full of tourists and for the first time I felt at ease, just like everyone else and loved the feel of company around me.

I had my best night’s sleep of the whole trip so far. I woke up the next morning and realised I was no longer cycling into the unknown. I had cycled most of the roads ahead of me at some point or other over the last few years. I felt so different as I packed up and left my lovely, “normal” B&B in Keel.

29th August. It was a bright morning as I set off to cycle around Achill Island. I stopped a few km out the road to sort out my saddle bags only to see behind me a very dark sky laden with rain. I just about got the rain gear on before the heavens opened. Life was back to normal, the earlier sunshine had been a bit of a blip! I took off to Dugort, Dooniver, Cashel, up Meewlin to Dooega and the Atlantic Drive to Achill Sound. I had another feast of hills and valleys. It was a spectacular cycle and the rain stopped as the sun came out as I approached Cuan na hAisléime


The Atlantic was wild as it threw its spray up on the roads close to the sea. It was a nice change to be hit by sea water rather than rain water. I could taste the salt in my mouth as I licked my lips.

After my lunch in a lovely café at Achill Sound I sadly left the island and headed for the greenway though Mulranny, Newport and Westport- my stop for the night. Achill had proved to be a most enjoyable day as my mind felt much calmer and less stressed than to date. I knew I was entering very familiar territory  in South Mayo and west Galway. I had spent hours practicing on these roads so I knew them well.

I had a most enjoyable night staying with my friend Mary.  Again I treasured being able to talk about the issues that this trip was throwing up for me and not feel stupid or ashamed.

30th August: A great night’s sleep in a very comfy bed, a tasty breakfast and off I took to Louisburg. Again the morning cycle was a mix of showers with a growing taste of sunshine. By the afternoon the  sun had won out and I was cycling in shorts and tee shirt through the stunning Doolough Valley.

This has to be one of my favourite cycles from Doolough through the Delphi valley, around Killary harbour and into Leenane for a coffee. Then on to Glasilaun, Lettergesh, Tullycross, Letterfrack and finally to Aughrismore in Cleggan. I so enjoyed every minute of it and the weather was sunny and windy. Amazing how different the wind feels in the sunshine- we were not fighting all the way!

I was back in my partner’s house and ready for two days off the bike-well sort of….-I would cycle part of the WAW to my house in Recess the next day.

It was so lovely to be in a house I knew well, able to cook for myself, wash all my clothes and actually wear something new! As my way to wind down and relax I cut the grass and enjoyed watching the sun go down on Omey Island.

31st August: As I packed the bike ready to head to my house in Finisglen, Recess I noticed I was feeling heavy in my heart. I had to go back to the place I had called home for 27 years but now no longer felt like that. The feeling of no longer belonging in a place I had tried very hard to fit in, was upper most.

I set off up the Sky road to Clifden. It was a beautiful day sunny, dry and windy.


From Clifden I headed out the road to Ballyconneely and Roundstone. I have begun to notice since I left Westport  the number of tourists on the roads. I am meeting tour buses and camper vans. It’s  like two different versions of the WAW. Donegal and North Mayo do not seem to be as well known as South Mayo and West Galway. As I moved down towards Kerry and Cork I met more and more people including cyclists and walkers -more about this at a later stage.

Today is a lovely trip right beside the Atlantic Ocean most of the way. I went as far as Cashel Cross and then left the WAW to make my way to Recess and into the mountains.

I was delighted to see my two cats Milly and Joey. They are very sociable so there was a noisy, run around the house welcome. I have decided they know me well and were delighted to see me too!!!! Milly is a chatty cat so she had to fill me in on all that had happened for them since I left! Joey is the silent handsome type just looking for lots of hugs.

I then decided to tackle the garden, cut the grass and do some weeding. I recognised an aspect of myself that always comes to visit when I feel stressed -I get very busy. I allowed myself to be so, as I knew before the sun would go down I’d have the ugly lights to contend with -reminding me of not belonging. I felt as if I was going round in shock when I was there as I could not believe how all had turned out. And I just want to pack the bike head and head off again.  Although the cycle has been a difficult and surprisingly emotional rollercoaster it feels better than staying in my house at present. This issue has triggered very old deep hurts and I know I’ll have to face them when the trip is over. But for now I just want to be gone.

The picture on the left as it was , the right as it is now.


To be continued……

Against The wind -part 3



Finally the day came to start the cycle!

19th August:Starting in Moville, Co. Donegal. I found a little café open at 8am and had the first of many scrambled eggs on toast and coffee breakfasts!

The morning was grey but dry as I set of with Garmin in place to record my kilometres, Go-pro on my head to film the trip, saddle bags that weighed the equivalent of a small child, packed with a change of cycling clothes, rain gear, shoes and “ordinary” clothes for wearing around my destination each evening, pyjamas, book to read, reading glasses, sun glasses -which I wore twice in 30 days- notebook to record my trip, fruit and nuts to sustain me on route and a weird feeling I could not name.

As I left Moville I headed into the unknown, I had never been in this part of Donegal before let alone cycled it. I followed the signs for the Wild Atlantic Way (WAW) and approximately 3 km outside Moville I encountered a companion who would accompany me on every day of the cycle, namely The Wind. I have to say writing this blog from the perspective of having completed the trip I tried every tactic in my repertoire to befriend the wind but failed miserably. The wind won every battle as I cycled into it , across it, battled with it , was knocked off by the force of it and one late evening experienced the pure joy of having it at my back as I cycled into Tralee……but that is to come. Right now I was cycling into a fairly forceful headwind as I made my way to Malin Head.

An interesting aspect of cycling in Donegal was the hills. I am truly convinced that engineers in Donegal Co. Council walk around looking upwards seeing potential to build roads that all seem to go uphill!!! Initially I comforted myself with the reasoning if I go up I must come down and I like hilly cycling for the thrill of downhill free wheeling…well in Donegal many times when I thought I was on top ready to come downhill, the road took another dive upwards….the songs “The Hills Of Donegal” came to mind. It must be the hilliest county in Ireland.

My route took me to Malin Head via Leckemy, Ballymagaraghy, Culldaff, Portaleen and Ballygorman. The coastal scenery was beautiful in the grey dull light. I encountered an interesting issue on the WAW . It is not designed for cyclists as the signs are too far apart and have next to no millage/Kilometres on them. I got lost and had to flag down one of the very few cars I met to get back on track. Getting lost in a car is a totally different experience than on a bike. Each time getting lost added a degree of anxiety and extra kilometres as much of the time I was on my own on the roads, with no cars, no buses and definitely no cyclists meant hoping I was going the right direction.

Finally I arrived in Malin Head Light House the most northerly point of Ireland . It is a spectacular setting. And most importantly it had a mobile coffee shop. Oh that cup of coffee was the nicest I ever had!




I had my lunch sitting on a rock looking out on the vastness of the Atlantic Ocean

I headed for Carndonagh via all the little roads hugging the coastline. And then to Ballyliffin. I had never heard of Ballyliffin until this year when it was announced that they are holding the Irish Open Golf competition there in 2018. I have to say the golf club is in a stunning setting. Finally I arrived into my destination for the night, Clonmany  a lovely village with a good supermarket and a few nice pubs and take away cafes.

I found my b&b in a lovely housing estate on the edge of the village. I have to confess I still have not met my landlord! We were in text contact. He was playing in a golf competition and we missed each other twice as I went to the pub for a much needed bottle of cider. All I know is he is very generous with the use of his house ….”help yourself to any food or drink in the kitchen” was written in the note he left me. And in the morning he had breakfast of fruit, cereal, yogurt and bread left out for me. I heard him snoring soundly as I left early next day.

From my diary ” So this is it- it has started, no longer in my imagination but definitely in my body. Am wondering how will I manage it-on my own, days cycling, wind, rain. I keep wondering who am I these days? Like I don’t know what has happen with me and my neighbours and the impact it has had on me. How I feel full of anxiety and not able to bring joy into my mind …feeling as if I am living outside myself, on someone else’s terms…….”

I had an immediate example of how this anxiety was going to affect me on the cycle. I met a young man who was also staying in the b&b in the evening. He was cycling around Northern Ireland and Donegal in the opposite direction to  me for the weekend. We compared notes on what was ahead of each other the next day. ” Are you heading up Mamór? ” “Yea ” Oh my god its brutal, absolutely brutal climb”.

If this slim, fit young man on a carbon fibre bike with the tiniest little saddle bag found Mamór brutal….how in god’s name was I going to make it up the mountain. All night I tossed and turned worried sick I would not make it up and I’d get stuck in the middle of nowhere. Like all late night mulling catastrophic thinking ran riot….how stupid was I to think I could do this cycle and on and on……

20th August: As the sky brightened I got up, packed the bike, had breakfast and set off to face this brutal mountain. It was dry and quiet as I rode out of the housing estate and along small roads looking out on to the Atlantic with some beautiful empty beaches. As I progressed I felt the road begin to rise and gears began to change. Up and up I went peddling hard until I rounded a corner and saw the WAW sign. I could hardly believe it, the sign for Mamór. I had made it , the view was lovely and I was well……what had all that anxiety been about? ….was I so fit I didn’t find it brutal?…..I took my photos and returned to the bike ready for the downhill. I turned the next corner to discover a wall of a mountain in front of me…..the WAW sign was located 1/3 of the way up Mamór!!!!!!!

Off I took and practiced the most profound mindful meditation ever ….pedal, breathe, pedal, breathe, pedal. breathe, There was absolutely no way to waste any energy thinking about anything else. At one stage I did have the thought my lungs were going to burst but they didn’t! I made it to the top and was so proud of my achievement to cycle a category 1 climb with the equivalent of a small child on my carrier! A huge wave of loneliness hit me as there was no one to share it with in person. I did get lots of positivity from my family viber but I learnt along the way that nothing makes up for face to face physical presence. Loneliness was to be my second companion on this odyssey.

Off I took cycling quite cautiously down Mamór as it was so steep and I had a weight on the back of the bike that made it feel a bit dodgy and sheep wandering from side to side across the road.

I continued on following the WAW signs and arrived at Dunree Head. Here I met  two very friendly men walking their dogs in the early morning. Encounters like this became very precious along the way. It was a beautiful spot with stunning views across Lough Swilly, the sea was so calm I began to think maybe the wind was not going to be an issue and my fantasy of meandering the WAW would happen!!!

I flew through Buncrana as at 9,30am there were no coffee shops open and finally ended up sitting outside a petrol station in Burt drinking coffee and eating a sandwich.

I continued to Letterkenny where I was due to stay the night.  I arrived there round 2pm and decided it was too early to stop and I was on a roll after my high of Mamór so on I went to Rathmullen. I found a lovely welcoming B&B -actually the only B&B – and was very lucky to get a bed. This was the only time I chanced not booking ahead.

After a hot shower I set off to find a pub where I could watch the match between Kerry (my team) and Mayo and a bottle of cider. I had a most enjoyable time there with a group of men who had a  break from “child minding” to watch the match. The craic was mighty and especially when they heard what I was up to I became for a brief moment  the centre of  much admiration! The match was a draw so I took myself for a walk on a lovely beach full of families enjoying this rare warm evening. The water was cool and refreshing to paddle in.

I ended my day in a beautiful restaurant with the best vegetarian dinner I have had in a long time.  All in all it was a good day inspite of my earlier fears.

21st. August. Left my  B&B at 9am and made my way to Fanad Head. More spectacular coastline, vast empty beaches, cliffs, mountains and hilly roads. Wind and rain came back to visit. I made my way to Carrigart via the Harry Blaney Bridge -an amazing structure rising up in the middle of this empty rural area.


It spans Mulroy bay and makes a  short cut to Carrigart. I arrived in the village of Carrigart at lunchtime. Decided to find my B&B , leave  my saddle bags and head around the Downings with less weight. I discovered Upper Carrigart -the location of my B&B- was actually 5km outside Carrigart!!!! So I backtracked, dropped off my luggage and took off to see the Downings. The rain had stopped, so now I only had my companion the wind to contend with.  Again more beautiful landscapes. Downings was an interesting mix as part of it has a very busy caravan park and mobile homes whilst the back of it is sparsely populated with lots of empty space.

Back in my B&B that night I reflected on the mix of emotions I was beginning to experience on this cycle. I loved the freedom and growing simplicity of my life , yet  the heaviness of heart in the midst of all this beauty was palpable.

Loneliness was not a feeling I had allowed myself to experience most of my life. I learned  at a very early age that loneliness was associated  with being ungrateful. I was used to cycling on my own. I had never joined a club as I am not a fast cyclist -I have endurance rather than speed, and I imagined I’d not be able to keep up with a club. Also being on my own and doing things on my own had been a way of life I took for granted. But now the loneliness came to the forefront with a vengeance.  Much of the landscape I was moving through held a deep sense of loneliness. So my inside emotional life and the outer landscape where mirroring each other.

22nd. August: This was a day of two starkly different halves. I left my B&B on a warm, dry, quiet morning off to see the Glenties. I was closer to the coastline this time out of the high hills but being Donegal they still managed to created roller coaster roads. I was so surprised by this area as it looked like “Lego-land” with the amount of houses scattered all over the landscape. I could not make out any order and wondered what kind of planning permission is given to build! I did imagine there must be a lot of coffee shops here …..but no I did not find any so continued on to a village called Dáire Beag. As I approached the village I got a text from my friend asking was I ok, as the rain was so bad….I looked around and saw no sign of rain and began to make a story that Donegal had less rain than other places!!!!!

Boy was I wrong. As I ate my lunch in the little café I spotted a dark cloud approaching and within minutes the heavens had opened. On went all my raingear as I decided I would be wise to head straight to Dungloe -my stop for the night.

After a few kms the rain began to ease up so I backtracked and headed on the WAW round The Rosses. I was no sooner off again when the heavens opened and I just had to continue. I cycled through walls of water as motorists sped through the many floods that had appeared on the roads.  The landscaped disappeared as the rain poured down. I could barely see ahead of me. I arrived to my hostel in Dungloe like a drowned rat. Every stitch of clothes I was wearing was soaked.

The welcome I received from the  River House hostel owners was so heart warming I will never forget it. They helped me put my bike away and took all my wet clothes to wash and dry. They guided me to a spacious lovely room and gave me directions to a warm comfortable pub to have dinner.

A quote from my diary entry :” Today I learnt about the fear of the unknown. I have been holding fear of not being able to cycle the high hilly roads or of not managing the wind and rain as I listened to the weather forecasts. Today I cycled the roller coaster roads and into buckets of rain and high winds. I realise how the fear of “what might be”23rd, is draining and actually cycling through these fear filled situations is so liberating. I felt so proud of myself as I cycled into Dungloe having achieved way more than I could have believed this morning!”

All night the rained poured down relentlessly and I awoke next morning to hear of the awful destruction that had been visited on the people of the Inishown Peninsula by the deluge that hit them.   Villages I had stayed in or stopped for lunch had mudslides which destroy houses, roads and bridges were washed away. It felt very real as I knew the names of all the places they spoke about. Sadness was the prevailing emotion as I set off from Dungloe.

23rd. August:This was a  very challenging day as I headed up another hard hill The Glengesh Pass.

The wind was relentless and heavy showers made the roads very slippy. The landscape to Glencolmcille was empty, desolate and steeped in loneliness. I honestly do not know how people can make a living here. It was emotionally the toughest day so far. I could not shake off the heaviness in myself. I felt as if I was cycling through sludge at times. I truly wondered what I was doing and yet could not countenance stopping. I arrived into Killybegs as the rain stopped and sun appeared in in the late evening. This time I had booked a little hotel which proved to be a good choice as the bar I had my dinner in was busy and noisy with holiday makers.

I had a nice walk around the fishing port viewing some of the fishing boats in the harbour. This was my last night in Donegal.

24th. August. Off to Sligo and a rest day with my friend Rita.  More wind and rain.

Finally I found my idea of a lovely coffee shop in Donegal town. I sat outside under the awning in the rain drinking delightful coffee and brown scones- a little bit of heaven- . The young woman serving me was amused that I would sit outside on such a wet day . I explained I just could not countenance taking off my rain gear to sit inside and anyway I could keep an eye on my bike.

After being fortified I set off for Sligo town. This part of the WAW is on the main roads and is awful. I had to contend with busses, trucks and motorists in the rain and wind. The road was very narrow in spots and where there was a hard shoulder it was full of potholes. I left the main road at one point to visit Rossnowlagh. Those roads were quiet and gave me a break. Unfortunately it was too wet to enjoy this lovely area.
I was very relieved to arrive in Rosses Point and to meet Rita and finally be in company I knew and knew me.

End of part 3.