From Cairo to the Connemara: A Sojournal

 Pt3 - 20: I woke up with a hangover measuring 10.4 on the Richter Scale. If I weren’t feeling so righteous for helping Paddy last night I’d have stayed in bed. Timewise I can’t afford the luxury of lying around for a day either, there’s still too much to see before Paris. I loaded up with a full English and levered myself into the bullet for the drive out to Dunmore Head, which at 52 o 11’N and 10 o 48’W is the westernmost point on the Irish mainland and the westernmost point of the Awfully Big Adventure. The short loop on the R559 has to be one of the most beautiful little drives in the world and I felt the mushroom cloud lifting as I stepped out to inspect Dunbeg Fort and the ancient beehive huts in the shadow of Mount Eagle. These dry-stone Iron Age igloos are perched on the edge of the cliff overlooking the mouth of Dingle Bay and the vast sweep of the Atlantic Ocean. It must have been a bit breezy in poor weather, but the stones are so forensically laid there’s nary a slive...

 Pt3 - 19: I’d love to have hung around Derry for another few days, but time is beginning to be an issue again. The race through Greece and Italy was to make the date to pick up the bullet, now the gathering pressure is to be back in Paris for the flight home on November 1 st . Today is the 24 th of September, day 214, and the maths says there’s less than six weeks to cover the rest of Ireland, Wales and the south of England back to London, cross the channel again to Antogny then drive up to Paris in time to return the mighty bullet before exxing Charles De Gaulle, barring the unforseen.   It’s forced a bit of corner cutting, which I’m literally doing right now. Instead of sticking to the coast as I’d originally planned, I’ve taken the most direct route to Sligo via Donegal and sliced off the northwest corner of Ireland. By way of consolation, I’ve already decided we’ll be back one day to see it all. * Random factoid : After Spanish Armada was routed in the Battle of Gra...