Day 3: Clonea & Dungarvan. Uninterrupted sleep, after a night like my first one, is one of the greatest pleasures. So thanks, Casey’s Camping & Caravanning, although the long bike ride did also play its part. Aileen and family were still fast asleep when I got up around 8, or at least their tent was still zipped up, so after a quick coffee on the trangia…

…I cycled back to the sea for breakfast.

From the roof there was also a good view of this hotel on the left. It’s currently being used to house asylum seekers who are awaiting decisions on their applications for Leave to Remain.

The whole car park is fenced off with green railings, and to get to the campsite you have to weave through the chicane around the edge, dodging kids on bikes who’ve got it down to a fine art. Last night as I passed the brown hut to the right, ringed in green, I saw a plume of smoke coming out from the doorway and stopped for a look. Inside were three gents sitting on dining room chairs, all smoking from tall hookah pipes and with a carpet laid out on the floor to make it more homely. They smiled and waved, then went back to their conversation, making gentle bubbling noises and waving the pipes in the air as they spoke.

Also ringed to the left is one motorbike, all that remains after packing up of two middle-aged English chaps both on massive touring bikes who arrived at the same time as me last night. They had been given the pitch right next to mine. One said to the other, sotto voce:

‘Jesus Alan, do you realise, we’re going to be right next to literally hundreds of bloody kids?’

They had an emergency discussion about booking a hotel or just pressing on somewhere else, then drove off noisily. Later I was surprised to see them in the field meant for caravans with a prime view of the sea, looking pretty happy with the new spot, despite being right beside the bins and the wasps. However…as I cycled up for breakfast this morning I could hear a very noisy house alarm going off as I approached their pitch, and discovered from the cafe that it had been going off for hours and they were packing up very grumpily when I passed by. They really should have stayed where they were, with the ukulele serenade and the rooks in the rookery right over our heads, and the sound of happy campers settling down for the night…

After a walk to the far end of Clonea beach and a long sea swim, I went into Dungarvan for lunch at The Local, a spot I’d been to before. At the tent before I left Billy told me he worked there waiting tables, and was leaving in a few minutes for his afternoon shift, and that his grandma and grandad (Aileen’s parents) own the pub next door, Paddy Foley’s. Small world…He was also getting some uke practice in. Good lad.

* “Eat, drink, and be merry”

I do have a sort of plan for tomorrow, but I’m not quite sure what it is yet, so let’s just see, ok? I do know we’ll be heading west, in case you’ve got a map, and Cork is over that way, but I’m not sure how far it is.

A quick shout-out to friends and family and followers from the US, Canada, Ireland, Sweden, Australia, Spain, Netherlands and Greece, as well as the rest of the UK! I get a nation-alert from the website whenever a country ‘clocks in’ (don’t worry, there’s total privacy!) and it’s so good to know you’re all out there. Welcome! Bxx

Signs That Are Funny

This caught the corner of my eye as I ate lunch at the bar, and for a moment I thought I’d seen something about the Bach Choir. Instead it’s a vintage ad for Smithwicks beer

I found this summary of how the Irish see us English types, and it makes me laugh every time I even think about it