Your writing and storytelling style is Straight from Eire.

"The English invented the language but the Irish are its poets."

Thank you!

Visibility was at about 100 feet when I rode there in 2009.:cry

The ferry trip was only about four foot wide across Waterford Harbour and then I quickly scuttled up the road towards Wellington Bridge. It was getting on for half five or so and I had made a rule that at around that time I would stop at the first B&B I found. I still use this rule. It stops all the indecision about whether to go on or not. I saw a sign for a B&B up a narrow road. So I dived up it and rode for half a mile or so until I got to the house. It was a farm house, looked pretty nice and so I got a room. I love the feeling of getting off the road after a long day. Half an hour ago I was Riding down the road with no base to speak of. Now, I am sitting in my pants on the edge of a strange bed contemplating having a dump before a power nap.
This particular house was decorated in the "busy" style. The wallpaper in the hall gave me a migrane when I looked at it. This picture doesn't do it justice really.
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The door you see is the door into my room. I didn't really notice what was strange about it until the evening. That's right, it's glass. I forsaw a masturbatory phaux pas looming on the horizon. With anybody walking down the hall getting a good show of the money shot but decided that I would just go to bed and say me prayers instead.
I had a cup of tea and then quizzed the landlady, ( early 50's, blonde. Strangely unattractive) about the best place to eat. She said there was a chinese in the village itself that done a good meal. Chinese it was then.
I got into me civvies, jeans, fleece and rode the mile or so into the village. This consisted of a crossroads sort of affair and a large petrol staion. The Chinese was beside the petrol station. As luck would have it, there had been a horse fair somewhere nearby and the place was swimming in Travellers. Pikeys, knackers, Tinkers, call them what you want, but don't let them hear you.
There was a pub opposite the station( did i mention the pub?) This was where there was some serious horse trading going on and it was spilling out onto the road. There loads of vans and horses boxes. There were ponies and horses every where, with kids running round pulling them by the halters. Young and old were watching and dealing. People were shouting and laughing and cheering and it was just general chaos going on. I was in the middle of this cursing the fact I had left the camera back in the B&B. Then I saw that the Chinese was closed and I started cursing the Travellers.
Chip papers and cans of coke were strewn everywhere. It was a fecking mess. There were people in the Chinese but they were sweeping up what seemed to be a woeful mess inside the place. I knocked on the window but nobody was going to look towards the window any time soon. Arse biscuits.

I Spied a likely looking couple of sweeties in a local reg car and asked them where the best place to eat was. They said the nearest was in Wexford Town. About 20 miles or so away. As it was a nice enough evening, decided to risk going in me civvies. I plotted a course and boogied on down(daddio). It was a nice road and a pretty good spin. I went all the way into Wexford and stopped at the first hotel I found. It was apretty good meal and I awarded myself pudding. When I left I discovered that a thick fog had came down. It took forever to retrace my steps. I didn't know the road, I was in jeans and a fleece and I could barely see the front of the bike. By the time I passed back through Wellington Bridge and tthe few remaining horse traders I was colder than a witches tit.
I had a hot shower to try to get feeling into me legs. The tom cats nipple had put in another appearance so I decided it was straight to bed and say me prayers.
It was then I realised the joys of a glass door and a light on in the hallway. There followed a battle of wits with persons unknown over control of the light. There was a switch on the wall just outside my door. I turned it off, got into bed, somebody turned it on again. Hmm, this went on for half an hour or so until they got fed up.
Needless to say I went straight to sleep and didn't get up 'till the next day.

The next morning, over breakfast I met an Australian couple. They were on their honeymoon. No harm to her , she seemed to be a nice person but feck me, she had a face that would turn back a funeral. Anyways, i had breaky, a shite, a look around and then hit the road.

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It was great to get a look at the coast again. It was straight up the coast towards Dublin. I wasn't particularly looking forwards to this bit as I have no sense of direction and Dublin has no road signs worth talking about.
I took a detour inland to visit a wee village I had been meaning to for a while.
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Only because it has the same name as the townland I live in. I also swung by Avoca which was where Ballykissangel (popular telly drama about life in a small Irish village..) was filmed. The fact that it is in Wicklow is a bonus. Wicklow is beautiful. Glendalough a particularly splendid place to look at.

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After pissing about for awhile, there was no more to do and I had to tackle Dublin. I nievely thought that I could stay near the coast as I traversed the city. Baaaaaad idea!.
I got stuck in grid lock within ten minutes of entering the suburbs and it took me fucking ages of sweaty filtering to make any headway. I was stopped at a particularly snarly junction when I saw a sign for the M50. Dublin's ring road. This can be one big carpark at times but today it was a godsend. I motored around the worst the city could throw at me, and shot out the top in no time. From there it was Malahide and Lusk, Martin Finnegans (rip) ( Irish road racer who sadly died during a race meeting.) home and then onto Skerries

I applied my first come first bookit quick rule to B&B's and found meself in a rather large house/small hotel. it was attached to a fruit farm and there were fahsands of greenhouses beside it. I had a rather spiffing upstairs room

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From where I could sit on a chair and spy on the comings and goings of the other guests. One hour later and I was showered and ready for nipping in for a wee bitey to eaty.
I got a pizza place open and had a.......pizza. yahoo. Authentic Irish cooking by a polish dude and a black bird. Anyhow, as I was eating it, it started to rain. And rain and rain. In fact, let's not beat about the bush. It absolutely pissed down. By the time I was back at the B&B it was coming down like stair rods. As I parked the bike at the back, I noticed a couple standing in a small porch by the back door. They were smoking and chatting. As I walked up to them I saw that it was a young french couple that had been booking in at the same time as me. He was cool as only french youths can be. She was prolly one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. Seriously. Tall, slim with a wide eyed innocence.
As I was taking off my helmet I had noticed him looking at me and then turning to her and saying something. As I approached he said
"I tell 'er eet eez good to see a real biker, no?" I swaggerd up to them, flicking the rain out of my hair and wishing I hadn't fashioned my beard into a comedy one. we had a chat about biking and that he was impressed that I was out on such a "fooker of a naght". I agreed that I was quite brave and I allowed her to rest her head against my chest.(this may not have happened.) He had a VFR in france and was really sorry he hadn't brought it over. I meanwhile was talking to him but falling in love with his girlfriend.
After ten minutes or so, they went in, probably to have oiled up monkey sex. I went to bed, said me prayers. And didn't get up 'till the next day.
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Yes....it is. Cold and stiff. :lol3

Great RR.

brilliant writing Fray,you had me laughin my head off,more please.

Visibility was about 10ft in 2001 on our honeymoon and my wife had to take me to the gift shop to show me what the landscape really looked like via postcards and prints. :D

We had this tiny little car that cruised us around the island. Amazing people and place. Can't wait to visit again! Thanks for the great RR.
:super

Love the "oiled up monkey sex" reference! Keep the report going, mate.

Keep it coming. Lotsa places I want to see. The breads! The breads!
Ah, god how I miss the breads and butter and soups.

OMG, I can taste the Kerry Gold butter now!!

I'm so buying me a bike asap here in Dublin, cannot wait to go to those cliffs! :eek1

These may have something to do with the fact that a pair of leather trousers I bought last year, shrunk over winter and now hardly go round one leg..:huh

See above post......

GET A BIKE! Ireland may not have a lot of things but it is dripping in great roads. C'mon man (or woman) jump in, there's a whole pile to see.:clap

The next morning I had decided that it was time to finish this turkey. I was in two minds to get to Belfast and head down the motorway where I would be home in a couple of hours. But there was a part of me that was saying to keep going. I decided that I would keep going but I would get home tonight no matter what.
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I kept stopping for pics but there was a sense of needing to get the finger out. In hindsight I should have stayed another night on the road but hey ho.
I mosied on up the coast and hooked round by Newry to Kilkeel and followed the coast up to Newcastle. Then I made the choice to drop the coast for awhile and head through Belfast. I flew through it and then headed east again and picked up the coast towards Carrickfergus.
This road is famously written about as one of the best biking roads in Ireland but to tell the truth, I can take it or leave it.

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Yes, it is lovely and in so many ways looks like any number of the roads I was on further round the island. But the traffic is heavy and the threat of breaking down in some UVF stronghold kinda keeps you on your toes. (no offence fellas.)
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The road hugs the shoreline along by the top corner of the Island. I was on a sedate setting as I wobbled my weary way home.
It started to get misty again and as I took the turn onto the wee coast road to Torr Head I was wondering if I was wasting my time. I wasn't. It is a great road. Hills like you wouldn't believe, through countryside that is so beautiful...
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I meandered around the top of Ireland. I resisted the lure of the Giants Causeway and Carrick-a-Read rope bridge in favour of keeping it on the road. I had a date with my wife and a set of conkers like two tins of Carnation cream.
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I rode on down the road and xended up on the famous NW200 course in Portrush. By this time I felt like I had been on the road all day. It was about 5.30 in the evening and I would usually be looking for a B&B. I stopped for a piss and a coffee. I had a descicion to make. From where I was I could take the easy way home and head down through Derry and be home in an hour and a half. I hated this road though.

When I set off on the trpi, I went through a roundabout in the town of Ballyshannon. As I aproached it from home, I went straight through it towards Sligo. What I really wanted to do, to underline the fact that I had gone right round the country, was to come into BallyShannon from another direction and take the roundabout from another road. It was kind of a landmark in my mind. To do this meant coming down from the top left of Ireland. I knew that I couldn't go home the quick way but had to continue on through Donegal.

I set off in the direction of Magilligan. Past the prison where all the naughty boys are kept. The day had turned into a lovely warm, early autumn evening and it struck me, as I rode passed the grey walls of the prison how lucky I was. Life dealt me a hand where I didn't have to make the descisions that could have ended with me in a place surrounded by razor wire and gaurd towers. The fact that the prison is set in such beautiful surroundings, where you are aware of just how "wide open" the world is, must make it a harder place to serve time. And as I sped past I wondered if anybody within the walls could hear my exhaust rebounding around the concrete and know just how free I felt at that moment in time.

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The short ferry trip took me back into Donegal. I rolled off the boat and turned my nose for home. The road followed the coast of Lough Foyle and with the sun shining on the far shore of County Derry, it was a nice place to be.
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I travelled southwards until I got to Muff. Yeah, I know.....There's no piont in doing all the jokes , I cut across towards Burnfoot and then Letterkenny. All the while the sun was slowly sinking towards the horizon and I felt a growing sense of homecoming.

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When I got to Letterkenny, I turned agin away from the crotch of my wife and headed up to the top corner of Ireland. Dunfanaghy was going to be the furthest point I was going to go.
I got to the pier in the wee town and took a couple of pics. To mark a point in the journey and to look hunky.
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I had a wee wee in the sea and then I hit the road again. It was a straight blast down some favourite roads. All the time heading in the right direction. Home was calling.

I came down the hill in Ballyshannon and entered the roundabout. It felt good as I entered the roundabout in Ballyshannon as I at last rejoined the route I had started a few day and many miles ago. It was almost a temptation to do another lap but at this time for me this was the completion of the trip. All there followed was 20 odd miles of very familiar roads home.

A welcome home to ya. And thanks for the ride.