Youghal to Clonea

30 miles

I’ve no idea how, but Clonvilla Caravan & Camping dodged the Storm Floris rains overnight. Not the 45mph wind, oh no, but the tent was miraculously dry this morning. I got the bike all loaded up but when it started pouring just as I prepared to leave, I ended up spending a great hour or so in the camp kitchen chatting with a young Dutch couple, Marlies and Vincent. She was a biology teacher and he was a musician living near The Hague, and with the wind and rain splattering the plastic roof we touched on most subjects under the sun, at least until the sun came out again. Thanks for your company M&V, it was a pleasure.

When I pointed out that I’d accidentally left the cover off my bike’s clever USB charger powered by a hub dynamo, Marlies produced a miniature fan for inflating air beds, and blew the offending rainwater away!

Today I was making part one of the long return to the ferry homewards. It was only a few miles back on the greenway to the beach at Youghal, where a woman walking her dog advised me to try the Beach Hut cafe for breakfast. Great tip – it’s a sheltered but outdoor collection of coffee stall and kitchen-in-a-horse-box. One ‘Eggs Benedict Royale’ (poached eggs, smoked salmon, sourdough toast, home made Hollandaise sauce) and an americano did the trick, after being a touch under-fuelled yesterday.

I then promptly met up with another young couple on a bike tour, but a bit further from home. They were from San Paolo in Brazil, and this was their first cycling trip.

Being from such a warm climate they were finding Ireland chilly, whereas I’d been thinking how amazingly good the weather was. They were full of enthusiasm for being here though, despite cycling into such a strong headwind.

I received a fantastic bit of info from Friend of the Blog (and someone with whom I travelled the world on concert tours) Chris West. When I joked about the Butter Museum yesterday, he pointed out that Sir Walter Raleigh was actually once Mayor of Youghal, and is said to have planted the first potato in Ireland there. Well guess what I found, inspired by Chris’s comment? Between 2009 & 2023, 230 miles away in Port Talbot, Wales, there actually was a Baked Bean Museum Of Excellence, operating out of the kitchen, living room and bathroom of the owner’s council flat. The thing that elevates this museum to legendary status is the name, in my opinion. Adding Of Excellence was a master stroke.

I’ve managed to hold back what I think is one of the most interesting things about Youghal until now. Anyone who’s visited the town can’t have missed the Moby Dick pub on the seafront. It was there in 1954 that John Huston filmed the famous opening pub scenes of the movie Moby Dick, starring Gregory Peck. There’s even a statue by the sea inspired by that very scene. First the pub and the statue:

And here’s the film. I believe the first ten minutes or so were filmed in the port of Youghal.

The same wind that slowed the Brazilians sent me sailing towards Dungarvan again like a whaling ship with all sails spread. I started on big roads to get the full benefit of 20mph speeds, then swapped to those tiny lanes that I used out of Dungarvan a few days ago.

The Thrill Of The Hill

When you can do it safely, like today, the feeling flying downhill at full tilt on a heavy touring bike is perhaps the best of all possible cycling experiences. Here’s the approach to the hill in question, almost a sheer drop:

I was very hot from the climb but zipped up my warm top and let rip, always with a long view ahead despite the gently winding lane, and moving at about 30mph. It was absolutely superb.

Back in Dungarvan I decided to visit ‘Foley’s Pub’, or ‘Paddy Foley’s, as it also calls itself, owned by Aileen’s mum and dad if you recall and currently up for sale. She described it as ‘part pub, part betting shop‘ and that’s exactly what I thought with the racing showing on tv being watched by a small gathering of locals. Not a tourist pub, you’ll have gathered. ‘It’s a drinking pub,’ Aileen told me. ‘No food, no music, just beer, whiskey and the horses.’ It’s rare for me to have a drink before finishing a ride but it seemed the thing to do after that hill left me buzzing and feeling like celebrating. I’m just not sure what.

I’m now back at Casey’s Campsite in Clonea, having sharpened up after the Guinness with a sea swim, and had a camping supper at the tent. I’m already thinking about the Full Irish breakfast again at the beach…

An Apology

I owe Michael and Mount Uniacke an apology for saying that it was a shadow of its former self and that both pubs had closed. Not true. Michael tells me only one had shut and the village is still thriving! I’m sorry for the misunderstanding and hope that the Charity Tractor Run and Vintage Cars event on Sunday was a huge success.

A Thanks

Many thanks to my camp neighbour Colin who saw me sitting on the ground this evening – Irish sites aren’t big on picnic tables and furniture is something I never carry! – and lent me a plush and padded camp chair for my stay. Also to the other neighbours who have let me charge up my battery pack on their socket. The generosity here is amazing.

Signs That Are Funny