Day 55

November 26, 2021:

I woke up with the tent slapping the top of my sleeping bag. Had it collapsed? No, it straightened as the wind eased. I got up, putting on my shoes, and left the tent, unsure whether to trust it from blowing away. But I had to act. It didn't blow away. When I returned, I set about packing as much into it as I could before throwing the packed bags out. I gathered all the trash and bundled it so it wouldn't fly away. I took off the tent cover and stuffed it under my bike while I disassembled the rest. I examined the bent tent poles, unsure what to do about them. Bending them back might result in brittle failure through fracture, and I couldn't afford to risk that. I wondered if ordering or finding replacement poles might be an option. For now, I packed them away, glad that they still fit inside the tent poles bag. Once everything was packed, I negotiated my way back across the field of tall grasses to the beach.

The wind was still quite strong, but the prevailing direction had changed from the north to the north east. It still blew sand across the beach, but now it more quickly entered the water. I fought against the wind and peddled in low gear back to the main road. There was a cafe there that I decided to get brunch at. Unfortunately their lunch menu would only start at noon, and I didn't want to sit waiting for half an hour; I was already so late to the start of this day. Instead, I ordered a hot chocolate and a slice of apple tart, both served with whipped cream. Delicious, but it wasn't filling.

I left, cycling along the highway towards Dingle. The roads were steep and the winds changed again so I once more faced a headwind. It seems it always works out this way. It rained a bit, and I got cold. The wind kept me fairly dry, but like sweat, my warmth was wicked away. Upon arrival in Dingle, I stopped at the Marina Inn on the waterfront for an actual bite to eat, ordering the special: bangers and mash. While I waited for the food to come, I called Dada to catch up. The thing he wanted to tell me about before near Schull he again procrastinated about. Odd. I still haven't a clue. We talked while I ate, my fingers growing cold as they were exposed in the chilly air. My plan for the day in Dingle was to take it easy. Instead of continuing on the Slea Head Loop, I'd find a hotel, do laundry, take a shower, and get some rest.

I wandered around the city center, looking for interesting places. I saw mom and pop stores, chocolatiers, art galleries, bars, churches, and music venues. There were a lot of people wandering around for such a small town. It kind of reminded me of Carmel. I searched Google maps for B&B's, comparing prices. Expensive. Average seemed to be in the 120€ range, with the cheapest being the Bolland B&B for 85€ (or something like that.) I would have to accept that. I was tired and in need of recuperation in a warm bed. I walked there, then walked in. A younger man was on staff, and he stated they only had one room left, a private room. After my experience in Killarney, I was more than happy to accept a private room, and was even prepared to pay a premium for it should the asking price not be too much more. "50€ for the night" he said. "I'll take it." I was surprised. It came in well under the price I had felt forced to accept. Of course, 50€ is still a lot, but I didn't hesitate. He showed me the room, then showed me where to put my bike. I wheeled it around the side and he took it, putting it in a shed. I told him I'd come back later to get things out of it. For now, I just took my computer, electronics, and toothbrush. I paid up, and he handed me the key. He was rushing about, as if in a hurry. I told him he could relax. I was in no rush. I went upstairs to the room to put my things down. It was an exceptionally small room, about the size of a closet. It had a small window overlooking the street with thick blue curtains tied to reach side. There was a heater, a bed, and some small furniture. The bathroom was private, across the hall. I sat down for a while and relaxed, putting my mind at ease.

Then I went to explore. Well, I had chores to do. I asked the B&B staff about laundry, and they weren't sure what my best option was, pointing me to some dry cleaners. I decided to postpone that. I then went to a clothing store looking for mittens. I've noticed in the evenings that my sweaty cycling gloves get very cold and they're unpleasant to wear. If instead I had mittens, my hands might be warmer, and I might more easily pass the time in the tent. I went into one store which had some nice black Friday deals and purchased a very nice pair of mittens for 30€. Clothing is more expensive in Europe, but it tends to be of better workmanship. I walked out, wearing the gloves as I left. They were just a bit too small for me. I had made my peace with that in the store, noting how warm it made my hands. But as I left, they became more uncomfortable. I went into another store, finding some woven yarn mittens that had individual tubes for my fingers. In purchased them for a crazy 35€ and went back to return the first pair. I had kept the receipt and they remembered me anyway, with my bright yellow jacket.

I then went to an art gallery. I came in just to look, but found some beautiful postcards depicting paintings of Irish coastal landscapes. Instead of showing a particular scene (with the blur or dark contrasts that photographers always think looks so cool) these depicted the Ireland that I saw. Rolling green hills with small homesteads, sheep, and an endless blue sea. I bought five. I want to send them to a wider number of people, not just Mama and Dada. I got to talking with the woman in the art gallery, Louise. The art was her mother's, and they were able to make a living off of it, selling not just the originals, but posters, postcards, prints, and so forth. They did quite well in the summers. She showed me some of the original artworks in the shop, and I marveled at the detail her mother had been able to put into the silk paintings. From my experience with silk paintings , you can easily create gradients of color, but they must be bounded by thick white lines that separate where the ink can flow. I suspect she used pen to get some of the finer details in. The medium was clearly mixed, since the sheep had been painted with a thicker material, maybe guache or acrylic for white. Louise watched me look at the postcards, stating that a number had gotten wet in the rain, and that she would sell them at a 50% discount. They were hardly warped. I got five.

I asked Louise about the music festival in town that I had heard about in passing conversations. "What's the deal with that?" Turns out, Other Voices is an annual music festival held in Dingle that is celebrating its 20th anniversary this year. It has slowly grown over the years from a local treasure to one recognized by internationally-known musicians. It's held in a small church that seats 80 or so people, but is streamed to bars in Dingle where people come to watch and meet the musicians in person during the daytime. Unfortunately, the in-person meet ups have been mostly cancelled due to the pandemic. But you can still watch in bars.

I went back to the B&B to drop off my things, then gathered myself and went back to the Marina Inn. The waiters were extremely busy, scurrying about with platters laden with food and pints of Guinness. I waited by the door at first, then strode in and took a small two-seat table by the entrance with first-row seating to the giant TV screen used for the occasion. I checked with the people behind me that I wasn't blocking their view. Eventually, I was able to catch a waiter's attention and order food. I got a chicken burger with chips and a Guinness. The program started to cheers, and more people streamed into the restaurant. Some were turned away as tables ran out. The music was modern. A few singers spoke to me. In particular, David Balfe, who sang about his friends and his sadness in their passing. Dermot Kennedy played. It held my attention. I got two more pints as the evening wore on. I stayed for the whole three hour program. This was Day 3 of 4.