Pt3 - 21: DUBLIN The suburbs of Ireland’s capital felt like home. Mysterious forces led me to the B&B on Avondale Road in Killiney just following my nose. I’d chosen the southern side of the city deliberately for its proximity to the ferry terminal at Dun Laoghaire ( pr Dun Leery), where I’ll board the Sealink for Wales, and to Sandycove, where I’ll pay homage to James Joyce. Avondale was right on a bus route too, so I could park the bullet up for a few days and avail myself of the DART (Dublin Area Rapid Transport). And a happy bonus - Bailey’s pub was an easy stroll away. * Day 1 : I rode the 25 minutes into the city on the DART and emerged from Pearse Station into bright, warm sunshine. I strode out for Trinity College, alma mater of some of Ireland’s finest writers and repository of the Book of Kells. I entered through a rear gate and crossed the green playing fields to the Berkley Library, a modern addition to the campus and inconsistent with the fine Georgian archi...
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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- 18: Glenariffe is one of the nine glens of Antrim, or niyan gleeanns as the locals would say. Apart from the Giant’s Causeway they are Northern Ireland’s premier natural landmarks. I stationed myself here because it’s within easy reach of Belfast and it offers a handy base to explore inland. And it’s bloody beautiful in the classic meaning of the word. While Scotland’s immense, rugged, desolate and imposing landscapes are spectacular, they are beautiful only in the sense they inspire awe; great places to visit, but you wouldn’t want to live there. In contrast, if I won Lotto tomorrow I’d add a holiday retreat in Glenariffe to the shopping list, right after the private jet, the Mediterranean island and my very own Guinness brewery. The scenic trail through the scenic glen is extremely scenic, with lots of fetching scenery. I worked up a thirst with a brisk hike around the ten kilometre circuit, which at first followed a forest path down to the confluence of the Inver and Gle...