motorcycle adventure

Day 17, Carrickfergus to Farnaght. Discovering Rural Ireland by Motorcycle: A Scenic Route from County Antrim to Leitrim, Passing Through Charming Towns and Lakeside Views

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We leave our accommodation and head south towards the southern border of County Antrim.

There is a strong west wind blowing. It whips the waters around Belfast port into white waves and gives the trees a good workout. It is dry. A few spots of early morning drizzle quickly peter out. A quick call is made to BMW Belfast to pick up a part for my bike. What a great bunch of people there. Friendly and helpful. After an hour of chatting we move on.

We skirt along the borders of Counties Down and Armagh touching on the southern shore of Lough Neagh. It is the largest lake in the UK.

The wind buffets us strongly and brings a chill with it off the lough. We have to slow down to stay sfae in the wind.

Passing the towns of Lurgan, Craigavon, and Portadown, we skirt around Armagh in rolling green pasture land. Much slurry has been spread upon the fields. The nasal attack proves it.

Time for a break. Finding nothing in the pretty town of Markethill we press on to Keady and find a small cafe. We stop for a coffee and slice of something nice.

Continuing southwest, it is a short distance to the border. We cross into the Irish Republic and enter County Monaghan. The road signs turn from MPH to km/hr. The traffic noticeably quiets.

At the border the road changes from the C196 to the L3530. Same road. Different name.

The road winds its way through verdant green farmland. Ballybay has its bunting strung up. This is music festival season.

We cross into County Cavan and pass through the town of Cootehill. The very impressive St. Michael’s Church dominates the landscape. It is a big church for such a smallish town. You can’t miss it as you pass through.

We arrive in Cavan town itself. It is clearly the largest town in this region. It is bustling with shoppers. We park the bikes and find another cafe for a coffee and a sandwich. Hanging baskets of flowers are everywhere. Much care has been taken to present the town at its very best.

The wind still whips up the parasols in the cafe, and the clouds fly by at some speed. Threatening clouds are whisked away. Out of the wind, the 20°C temperature feels rather nice. In the wind, the chill drops it substantially.

Leaving Cavan heading southwest, we pass through Bellanagh. Then we leave the N55 onto the L2514. This is a road much less traveled. It is tough going on the backside, being very uneven in places, but the views over the pastures are beautiful.

We pass a myriad of lakes and Loch Gowna. The banks are dotted with fishermen trying their luck. It looks idyllic. The wind must be giving them some challenges, I would think.

We pass into County Longford and journey’s end at the Farnaught Farmhouse in County Leitrim.

As we pull in, we are greeted by Gerry the farmer and his two elderly collies. They bring a toy bone with them and want to play a game of fetch. Of course, we oblige.

The afternoon sun is giving way to the evening now. A cup of tea on the patio out back and a chance to air out biker’s apparel are both taken. Time to relax and reflect on the day once more. This is a part of Ireland through which I have never been. I can’t say I have ever heard of the places we went through. I have no idea what to expect. Clearly, this is prime farm country. Mainly dairy it would seem.

We continue tomorrow and shall see what the day brings. More new territory for me at any rate.

Day 7, Kilrush to Glencorrib. Loop Head Lighthouse and The Burren Geological Park Adventure.

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There was no sinking feeling today! A night in a floating pod needs to be experienced. Each time one of us got on or off it rocked a little. At first quite disconcerting but after a while you got used to it. I really enjoyed our nights stay here. A little different, a little quirky. Clean and comfortable and a view a little out of the ordinary.

The wind died away completely overnight. We woke to a blue sky day and not a breath of wind. The water was like a mirror.

We packed up and moved on.

First stop was a run down to the Loop Head Lighthouse, a signature point on the Wild Atlantic Way. The road is narrow and winding. It passes through small hamlets that appeared deserted. Wide open vistas of fields stretch to the horizon on all sides. Then suddenly on top a rise ahead the lighthouse appears. Its light flashed 4 times every 20 seconds and marks the northern entrance to the River Shannon. Ripe tides and currents can be seen at the base of the cliffs. According to an information board a light of some description has existed on the point since the 1600s. It was a fire in a bazier on the roof of a cottage built on the point in those days.

Oh the sun burn!


We retrace our steps. After a brief stop in the seaside town of Kilkeel, we press on to the geological park called The Burren. Click this link for more information. It seems barren at first, but hidden in the nooks and crannies are colourful plants.

The road clings to the coast rounding Black Head and heads east towards the city of Galway.

We stop for lunch. The roads are not so testing but the added traffic means concentration is paramount.

Galway is a city like any other. Not much to write about but there was no other way to get to our accommodation for the night. So we stopped for another coffee then pressed on to journeys end.

We had 5 near misses today. Drivers came around bends on our side of the road. Others pulled out in front of us at junctions. Until now the standard of driving has been good. Today was not. The silly thing is most of them were on Irish plate cars and they did not care. Maybe hire cars. Who knows. No apologies. Nothing. So take care if ever you come this way. Take your time and be aware of the road conditions at all times and you will be fine. Maybe it was just one of those days.

We are now set for the night. Tomorrow we head for Cong where the film the Quiet Man was filmed with John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara.

Day 5 rest day in Dingle and day 6 Dingle to Kilrush.

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Our day of rest in Dingle was wonderful. The sun shone brightly all day and we got burnt to a crisp. No excuses just stupid. Not enough sun cream and too long outdoors. The day ended in a pub with a nice cold Guinness. Of course it did.

Well rested of body and mind are we after our days rest in Dingle. This is what a body needing rest looks like. He is going to kill me when he sees this. Bear in mind this is 9:15 in the morning.

We had a decent breakfast. Then, we bid our hosts, Pat and his daughter Anne-Marie, farewell. We wrote something apt in their visitors book and departed. Duinin House is a 10/10 place. Well presented, clean and warm and friendly hosts, I can’t fault the place at all.


The day dawned heavily overcast but as we left the cloud looked like it was breaking in places. It was dry. We retraced our steps to Dingle and struck west to join the Slea Head tourist route. The road snakes its way around the coast climbing and dipping as the contours allow. This is bleak country. Stone walls enclose sheep in small fields. Beehive structures dating back hundreds of years dot the coastline. They used to house animals, crops and even families.


The road continues back to Dingle where we refuelled before heading up into the Connor Pass. The view from the top is usually spectacular. Today we were in cloud with zero visibility, a strong wind and a chilly and damp air clung around us. We took a photo. Descending down the other side of the pass, the road is down to one lane clinging to the rock face. We drop below cloud level and the view goes on for miles and miles.

A tad breezy up in the lofty heights of the Connor Pass. Apologies for the sound.


The road then follows a rather dull route into the large city of Tralee. It seems to be a bit of a sprawl. Run down in parts. New shopping zones in others. True of many towns. We pass through. The road leaves the major route and heads north west towards the beach and the seaside town of Ballyheigue. It is a bustling little town. It is busy with holiday makers. Continuing on through Drommartin, Ballyduff and Ballybunion we arrive in Tarbert. Here is the southern end of the River Shannon Ferry crossing. The ferry is already boarding when we arrive and we are beckoned onboard the MV Shannon Dolphin by a crew member and park our bikes for the 15 minute crossing over to Killimer on the north shore.


The run to our stay for the night is a short 4 miles for we are staying in a floating pod in Kilrush marina. Rather unusually it sits on a raft tethered to a pontoon. It rocks about on the water. Just like being back at sea again. We took a walk up into town to find somewhere for dinner. Nothing! A supermarket shop for a roast chicken and a bottle of wine sorted the evening menu.

Todays ride was around 200 kms, around 125 miles.

We are now in County Clare having left County Kerry. Tomorrow we continue our journey north into County Galway.

Day 3. Castletownbere to Cloon

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Yup. I have no idea where Cloon is either but here we are. Lets start at the days dawning.

The sun eased its way above the horizon to be veiled by clouds. The clouds parted. Briefly. The sun continued its valiant effort to bring warmth to this part of Ireland. The jury is out on its success.

Its gallant attempts did not go unnoticed by my good self. “OOO Andy, Blue skies”. Zero response from my colleague in duvet land in his bed. Nothing. Oh well. It was only 5:40 in the morning. The weather looked good to start with.

We got up, showered and ate a hearty breakfast. We started packing the bikes up and the only black cloud on the entire west coast of Ireland moved over and dropped its contents on us. Clearly we have been praying to the wrong God.

Slightly moist now we set off on the days ride.

The road continues in a SW direction. Sometimes rough and ready and sometimes even worse than that but always fabulous on a motorcycle. 


We stopped briefly at the carpark where the cable car to Dursey Island leaves should you choose to be transported in what looks like a caravan suspended above the sea on wires. Not for us. We chose to take a selfie in the rain instead.


Retracing our steps and in what can only be described as a chance encounter in a lay-by we came across a cairn attesting to a feat of amazing seamanship. Blink and you would have missed it. A photo was taken. 


On On!! We followed the tourist route of the Beara Ring. For tourist route read farm track. In many places it was a single track road with eye height bracken obscuring everything. Grass grew down the middle of the road. The bracken obscured Camper vans driven by loons who thought that 60 km/hr was a safe speed coming the other way. It beggars belief why people drive faster than the distance they can stop in. Anyway. We continued on to a small cafe in Eyeries where a coffee and a slab of carrot and walnut cake in warmth and shelter alleviated the rising damp that had by now found its way past ankle height, above the knees, above even the trouser area into the midriff where the bottom of my shirt got wet. We needed to dry out. We went from wet to damp to slightly moist in around 45 minutes.

We continued on. Stopping now and then to take in the vistas and have a break the kilometres passed.

We turned off to take the Healy Pass road. If there is one road that simply must be ridden on a motorcycle then this is it. Twists, hairpin bends, a climb into a mountain pass and a descent to boot had us both grinning.

We stopped at the top to take some photos. Whilst I was snapping away Andy took a tumble behind me. He slipped on a rock. I turned and he was lying on the ground. I ran over and did what all good friends would do in such a dire situation. I roared with laughter. Called him various unpleasant names. He took a photo of me laughing from his prone position. He has a little bruise to show for it. I helped him up. I had to. Who else was going to pour my gin and tonic later in the day?

We moved on.

Back to Glengariff and turn north into the Caha Pass. A brief stop for a coffee break at Molly Gallivans Emporium.

We dropped down into Kenmare township for lunch. A superb bowl of Seafood chowder. Rich, tasty and a boon to the weary and now getting dry biker.

The final leg of our journey took us onto the southern part of the Ring of Kerry. It is busy. Tourist coaches rattle along at a fair pace. Traffic is busy. But then again it is promoted as a premier tourist route. For me, the Beara Ring is much more rustic, more beautiful and less trodden. 


We arrived at our stop for the night. The Old School House in Cloon. Quirky, well lived in, an owner who keeps bees, a little dog that greets you. Time to rid ourselves of the last vestiges of the days showers, relax, recharge self and various gizmos batteries and write home. 140 miles of smiling, cussing, oh wowing and sheer unadulterated motorcycling pleasure.