Day 31

November 3, 2021:

In the middle of the night, I rubbed my nose. I was feeling a bit stuffy. In an instant, I felt something trickle down. I thought it might be snot, but when it came out, it ran over my lips. Blood. I held my nose shut with one hand and rushed to the bathroom to deal with it. I was eventually able to make it back to sleep.

I slept in again, this time only to 8:30, still feeling a bit drowsy. I’m pretty sure this is still due to the jet lag, but it may have been due to the sleep I lost when I got the bloody nose. I went downstairs for breakfast, trading my two breakfast chips for a sausage/cheese sandwich thing – which was kind of weirdly sweet – and a croissant served with tea, milk, and sugar. I had had an extra chip since I missed breakfast yesterday. This wasn’t one of those continental breakfast buffet things. Instead, there were two options (I took one of each), and they had a cook in the back prepare them for me and bring it out to my table.

Going back upstairs to pack up, I spent a good bit of time getting everything back into the proper drybags. I took the elevator downstairs to the lobby, dropping my box and bags on a bench, and went to retrieve my bike from the luggage room. When I got out, I checked out of my room so they wouldn’t charge me for another night, and proceeded to fully pack my bike as I had it before, in New York. I was there until around 11:45, when I said goodbye to the kind hostel employee Stephanie who had provided so many good tips. She helped me out, holding open the doors while I wheeled my bike through. I never did ask if she spells her name with a PH or an F. That will remain a mystery.

I left Dublin on the road for Dalkey and Killiney. It follows the shore south, with good views of the Houth lighthouse, of ferries coming in from Wales, and of the TFI train line that runs along the beach. Trains would pass every few minutes. I’m jealous of their very figured-out public transportation system. I was going to stop at Sandycove beach, but the area was closed to a film shoot. Dalkey was pretty cool. They have a castle which I had come specifically to see. The streets there are *very* narrow and mostly one-way. Exploring them by bike was interesting, and I followed a seaside road up a very steep hill, revealing a satisfying vista over the Irish Sea and the beach at Killiney and Shankill. It was a crystal clear, sunny day, and the view was incredible. I was surprised that I couldn’t see even a thin sliver of land on the other side. I guess it’s just a bit too far across to the UK to allow for that. There were some magnificent birds on the hillside as well. I saw one that was mostly white and black, but with vivid blue wing feathers. I think it’s a black-billed magpie. I started seeing them everywhere, and it’s now the bird I associate with Ireland. They are seriously so cool to watch.

I cycled down the other side of the hill to Killiney Beach, resting my bike on the uneven, round stones while I searched for some geocaches. The beach wasn’t comfortable to sit on given all the rocks. I got cold quickly, the wind penetrating through the outer layers of my jacket.

I took another way back, not wanting to climb the hill over to Dalkey again. The route took me through Kilbogget Park, Cabinteely, and Donnybrook. After exiting the park, I had to cross the street a few times to reach the proper bike lane that runs beside the N11. I waited at a street crossing with a cute girl for several cycles before realizing I’d forgotten to hit the crossing button. This prompted some lighthearted discussion, and I wished her a good day.

There was an Eddie Rocket’s American-style burger diner on the way back, in Donnybrook. I stopped outside to look at a menu, hoping to find chocolate malt on the list of beverages. There was an old lady walking past who stopped to ask me about my bags and where I’d come from. She introduced herself as Ann. She said she wanted to offer me a room, but was worried about covid. I assured her I already had a place to stay, but thanked her for otherwise being so considerate. But also – why even bother saying so if you’re ultimately not actually offering anything? She talked a little crazy about how she really wants to be careful around covid, but is scared of the dangers of the vaccine and the ‘false covid counts reported by the government.’ It was like she wanted to have it both ways: to be rightfully worried of the disease, but then also downplay its effects on the population as a whole. And if she really was being so careful, why not take the vaccine? I kept listening, because I like talking to people. If nothing else, it adds to the story. Ann kept saying she had to go, but then would keep talking to me. I felt like maybe I didn’t understand some cultural norm. Was I supposed to break off the conversation? I’m still unsure.

When she did go, I went into the burger joint. I pulled my bike in behind me after asking the employees there if it would be ok. It was cold outside, and I enjoyed being able to warm up at a comfy red booth. It had vinyl leather with silver edges. You know, your classic diner feeling. I ordered a burger called the M50 Upgrade that had mushrooms and crusted onions as well as a chocolate malt, as I had promised myself earlier. It was good. After paying up, I continued on to Dublin.

Upon reaching the southern part of the inner city, I got an immense bloody nose – again! Thankfully, I had toilet paper in one of my dry bags which I used to immediately stop the flow. I hid the paper under an N95 mask. As I walked around, it got dark quickly. I needed to stay out until 8:00 pm when Peter - my Warmshowers host for the next two nights – would get home. After wandering through the old town, I went to find where his apartment was. I used it as a base of reference as I continued to explore the northern part of the city. I decided to search for geocaches, finding several near Peter’s apartment. I did also spend about twenty minutes fruitlessly searching for one at a park in the darkness. I used my powerbank to recharge my phone. Peter got home early, and messaged me at around 7:15 pm, so I went back to his place.

I texted him on WhatsApp that I was at the gate. Instead of approaching me from within the gated complex, he walked towards me on the street and waved a greeting. He is tall and lanky, with long flowy black hair. His door was on the first floor. I pulled my bike inside, leaning it against a chair in the living room. I unpacked my essentials. Peter showed me the couch I’d be sleeping on. I said I might just take the floor, since I wasn’t sure that the couch would be long enough for me. He handed me a course red towel, and I used the shower to clean up, feeling better as soon as the hot water hit my skin.

The first order of business was to talk gear. Peter looked over my setup, commenting on the bike bags. He said another option for the triangle frame pack is a triangular water container that you can strap in. Then, with a hose, you have a drinking straw so you have access while you ride. I’d never seen that before. I think my system works for me though.

Over a dinner of cottage pie (shepherd’s pie) and Guinness, we talked plans for the trip. This Guinness tasted better to me. It was creamier, foamier. Peter said that every can has a nitrogen canister inside that makes it taste just like the brewery intends it to. He said that the taste of Guinness can actually vary from pub to pub, and that sometimes the cans are better than what you can get on tap. He advised always asking locals where you can find the best Guinness in town.

Peter told me about ultra-racing. There’s an annual race called the Transatlantic Way that has contestants ride the Wild Atlantic Way in the shortest time possible. After receiving second place in 2020, Peter said he was determined to win it this year. He pre-planned everything, including all the hotels he’d stay at along the way. For such a race, it’s better to go with hotels than it is to camp, because a warm bed and shower really makes a difference, and it means you don’t have to carry the excess weight and don’t have to spend the effort setting it all up and packing it away each night. This year, he completed the trek in just five days! That’s ludicrous. That’s on the scale of what I believed to be physically impossible. Apparently, his biggest stretch was when he rode for 40 continuous hours, covering a distance of 860 km, then slept for three hours, and kept going. Insanity!

We played Carcassonne after dinner. Just the base game, no expansions. I think playing with Inns and Cathedrals is actually crucial. The bigger meeples and cathedral-based screw-your-city over tactics make the game much more fun. After Peter went to bed, I stayed up late reading The King’s Avatar until maybe 2 am. That was a mistake. That’s a really dumb thing to do when you’re trying to recover from jet lag.