TRAVERSE 133
TRAVEL - IRELAND
GUILLERMO MACLEAN
AS GOOD AS A GUINNESS
I
stepped off the ferry into the wet mouth of Ireland at the port of Cork , after a 12-hour crossing from Roscoff , France , having previously passed through half of Europe . I was rain-soaked and now with reduced vision , pumping adrenaline and driving on the left side of the road , I headed on to find a service station to stop and put on my raingear .
At the stop , I met two Irish bikers , but I could hardly understand what they were saying . We exchanged Instagram and they set off . I was impressed with the ease with which they got on the road , in the pouring rain and quickly . They didn ' t have saddle bags , but they did have a backpack and tank bag . They were professional riders . Why do I say they were professionals ? Because professional riders never go off-road with saddle bags , a matter of centre of gravity and balance .
I headed south , more precisely to South Kerry , where I had booked the Dromid Hostel in Killeenleigh . I never travel on motorways , only on countryside roads which are narrow , and you must be incredibly careful with the damn grass that grows in the middle of them ; if you make the mistake of riding on it , you fall . Every time a car comes in front of you , it ' s quite a hassle . Will he stop ? Should I stop ? In some sections , there are parts where you can stop , but if not , the car must back up until it finds a place where there is room enough to pass .
The scenery was wonderful . I crossed lakes , rivers , and hills , and drove along mountain roads where you could see sheep grazing with coloured paint on their backs . You must be careful because at any moment they can show up in the middle of the road . When it ’ s cold , they lie down on the pavement . I saw incredible houses in the middle of nowhere , ruined castles , cemeteries , and abbeys . La Más , my
TRAVERSE 133