The final frontier: Mayo to Malin Head

6 o'clock the next morning saw us heading off through Joyce's Country, as far as Killary, where, exhausted and looking for somewhere we could escape from the rain, we fell asleep under a bush beside t

Awaking that afternoon we pressed on until Westport, where we camped beside a lake. When I awoke the next day my legs were soaking. The tent hadn’t been put up right and the night’s rain had filled the end of it with water. We made a very late start, and I had to ring my friend in Belmullet and let him know that we would not make it that far west. I was disgusted to hear that he had been expecting us, and had been waiting with a few six packs of beer for our arrival.

Alex and his men encounter the Sligo Sirens

Nevertheless, we made it to Sligo town, where Sonny and I noticed the girls were exceptionally nice and were put up by another friend of Owens, Paul Bradley. Chicken curry and a hot shower went down a treat, but I only had my wet sleeping bag to sleep in, and faced the prospect of once again having to repair my bike, as the rear axle seemed to be broken. We found a bike shop in Bundoran, but unfortunately all he could do was put in new ball bearings. Nevertheless we celebrated arriving in Donegal after ten days on the road. After fruitless enquiry for a bike repair shop in Belleek and Donegal town I decided to leave it until we got to Letterkenny, so we took it easy that day and camped beside a river at the Glenties.
 
You know how sometimes when you are asleep you can have conversations if people are talking to you, even if you do not remember it? That evening Owen told me he had just got a phone call from a friend, offering him a weeks work delivering a sailing boat from Barcelona to Naples. It was just the experience he needed, as he wanted to start training to become a professional sailor. In my sleep I agreed to cycle the entire hundred miles to Malin head the next day, so that he could get home on time to catch a flight from Cork the day afterwards.

The next morning, my sleeping bag was wet, I hadn’t slept well, and when I found out what I had done when I woke up I was pissed off. We flew at top speed to Letterkenny, but when we arrived Owen discovered much to his dismay that he had to catch the bus then if he wanted to make the flight. He had come the length of the country to have to turn back just fifty miles from his goal. It was still only about midday, so after wishing Owen ‘’Good Luck’’ and finding a good bike shop which gave me a new wheel, we went full speed for Malin Head.

Journey’s end at Malin Head

Blue, who had always been that bit faster, sped off ahead on the last few miles, just so that he could be there first. It was amazing to stand on the very north of the country, straining our eyes to try and see Scotland, and reflecting on the distance we had travelled under just our own power. That was the first evening that we treated ourselves to a hostel, and as we settled down to eat our curried chips from the local chipper, we got talking to a guy who planned to leave early the next morning; he was going to cycle to Mizen head non-stop, in just over 24 hours!

By Alex Hart

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