I have no idea how I managed to remove this post, a pox on this software. Here is my attempt to resuscitate it.
I have a theory that the Wild Atlantic Way route is a cynical attempt to keep the tourists off the good roads and too some extent that was proven correct by the road from Galway to Clifden. Don’t tell anyone else.
In Clifden I was making a pigs ear of negotiating a roundabout when embarrassing spotted by Michael and Bernarda whom I’d met on the ferry. Made more embarrassing by my previously getting Bernarda’s name wrong, they were gracious in their correction and pointed me in the direction of the Sky road. I wound my way around the coast and coasted into Dooneen for a coffee at an attractive stop, the bike stopped.
Starting was an issue, the button, whose one job is to power the starter motor, transitioned from utility to ornament. I took off my helmet, gloves, rucksack, jacket, side covers, headlight and sense of invulnerability. Eventually diagnosed, although with no authority, as being a bad connection below the relay, my GoPro captured the moment of revelation and re-energised revolution.
Attempting to make up for lost time I pressed on and stopped less, stopping eventually too late to find a campsite, they are sparse, I booked into the Loft Ballina where I ate and stabbed at the crossword and drank. Venturing across the road to Rouses where the welcoming host Pat wisely garnished my 12 year old Redbreast with a small ice cube. Proper pub, I chased 2 pints of Guinness appropriately
Le Mans man 