Day 33

November 5, 2021:

The cottage pie was good, but it didn’t completely fill me up. I ate a banana and two apples in the middle of the night from Peter’s fruit shelf. I let him know in the morning, and he thankfully didn’t mind.

I went to the bike shop just after 10:00 am. Peter had me take his apartment keys with me… something that takes a lot of trust. The bike shop hadn’t been expecting me so soon, despite the fact that I made it clear I’d drop by first thing in the morning when they opened. But showing up was good because it put the pressure back on them to deliver. They said the bike was at their other warehouse, and that they’d have it ready for me by noon. I frowned, recalling they had mentioned that warehosuse yesterday, and asked directions to it. Pavel told me where to find it, but I decided I wouldn’t bother them. It was just good to know where to go.

I went to the Basecamp outdoor store nearby. There, I bought a small fuel canister that was compatible with my camp stove. It’s a much smaller canister than the Snow Peak Gigapower fuel canister I had before. The smaller canister means less burn time and a less stable base when I try to cook on uneven ground, but it’ll at least fit in my bags. I also bought a neck warmer and two chemically-activated heat pouches in case I get super cold. They cost just 2 euro each. I had a discussion about the different neck warmers they offered with the employees. They walked me through each of the different options, recommending the ones made from natural merino wool. Those ones didn’t feel thick enough though, so I went with a synthetic one labeled ‘Polar.’ That sounds like exactly what I need.

I went past a Polish grocery store on the way back, buying two bottles of water for my trip and two Bueno kinder chocolate candy bars. I love the chocolate-hazelnut combo. I saved some for Peter. I got back, using his keys to get in, reporting the delay with the bike. Peter was working from home again, so it wasn’t an issue. He made me feel welcome to stay all day if need be. I gave him the candy I had saved. “Never say no to Buenos.”

I spent the time planning my route for the day on my computer, including a warmshowers request to a guy out in Athlone. Peter told me about another host named Felicity near Galway who lives as if it’s still the 19th century. He recommended staying with her if I could. Thing is, I’m not going to Galway just yet, given that I’ll head south to Cork from Athlone. So why go to Athlone in the first place? Well, I have to see Moate, Ireland. It’s an inside reference to a crossword Mama and I were working on together before I left for this trip.

At noon, I went to pick up the bike. It was there waiting for me. As expected, they replaced the full crank set, including with new discs. I conducted a more complete inspection this time, looking for issues, but found none. I thanked the guys there for taking responsibility. They’re nice guys, but I won’t be taking my business there again. That said, I may have come out ahead with the new crank set. Peter had said my old one was starting to look a bit worn.

I cycled back to the apartment, making sure the pedals felt right. I packed my bags while Peter continued to work. One of his friends – a guy named Nick – walked past the window outside and put two cups of coffee on the window sill. Peter opened the window, taking one of the coffees for himself, and introduced me as his Warmshowers guy. The three of us got to talking, especially about my crazy trip. Nick was a fun lad, and he laughed a lot, a quality I really like in people. He warned me that Peter can be quite convincing, but ultimately agreed that I needed to check out southwest Ireland. I got a picture with him before I left.

With my bags fully packed, I said goodbye to Peter. It was about 1:30 pm by the time I left, and I started my Strava app to track my progress. I cycled back through Phoenix Park, headed for the Royal Canal Trail. The first parts of the trail was thin, muddy, and grassy, with large chunks of gravel protruding from the mud. I carefully steered around as much as I could. It took focus. I’m glad the Wild Atlantic Way is paved, since I won’t have to deal with issues with gravel like this. Thankfully, the trail widened with time, becoming a smoother surface of super crushed gravel – that’s fine. I saw house boats along the canal. The water looks deep. There were several bridges that the path passed under, during which the trail would come very close to the water’s edge without a railing. Falling in would have been killer. It could easily have happened with a slight miscalculation. I rode these sections with caution.

Given my late start, I cycled through the cold air with a sense of urgency. I needed to make it far enough from Dublin proper into the rural area of the Irish midlands before dark so I could have a hope of finding a decent camp spot. I got to Kilcock just before dust, stopping there for food. I got Indian takeout, ordering Lamb Vindaloo with naan. I wanted something a bit spicy. The restaurant also gave me a weird pancake-size potato chip thing. I’m unsure what it’s supposed to be. I left town with the food hanging in a bag from one of my handlebars. I went a few kilometers before finding a picnic bench beside a gravel pulloff and grassy area that looked like it could be a campsite. That’s what I would argue if anyone stopped to ask, anyway. I put up my tent quickly, then ate my food quickly as night fell swiftly around me.

The night was cold. It felt 35F, but the temperature said 50. I attribute this to the gusts of wind that made my tent quite drafty. I cuddled in my sleeping bag, grateful for the extra layers I was wearing. I did get to sleep, and I actually slept quite well, despite the cold.