Monday - first day of the Irish Leg

The motto for this tour is "fun, fun, fun" - coined by Frank Hutch and happily bandied about by all riders. The motto for today was "wet, wet, wet" again coined by Frank and he was not kidding. Back in London we had read a 10 day weather forecast for Ireland - basically the heavens were to open every day and Hewie was to just pour buckets of cats and dogs down to earth. It would seem northern hemisphere weather forecasters know their stuff - 9am ride out time the heavens opened and every rider was pretty much totally soggy by the time we had navigated through Waterford. Brett did his usual and rode out with his stand down, for which he led the betting all day on who was to take over the role of Princess for Tuesday.
Our route today, led by Conor and Fintan, saw us drive by some breathtaking coastal scenery Tramore, Annestown, Dunvargan (Dun Garbhan for all you Irish speakers) all the way to Midleton to the Jameson Distillery. Now as this blogger recalls the scenery was spectacular - shame you couldn't see it through your visor covered with rain. Note to blogger - riding an Indian is a pain in the wet because your wrist gets wet when you reach down to change gear and the water runs from your arm and down into your glove. Also never believe what you read - that waterproofing stuff you spent hours putting onto your jacket DID NOT WORK! Needless to say dear reader that by the time we got to morning tea we were very much soaked.

Dorothy and Phillip, who have been doing a sterling job of marshalling earned themselves the nickname of Hansel and Gretel as all the way from Waterford to morning tea Dorothy shed tiny bits of her hiviz orange wetweather over jacket as it was flapping around in the wind as Phillip drove hell for leather to catch up to the front of the pack for the next mashalling post.
Jim's habit on hols is to refresh himself with an ale or 2 when we stop - however the Irish do not realise it is high summer and the place is crawling with tourists - so every bar or pub we walked to at our stop at Dunvargan was not open until 12.30pm. Sorry Jimmy but it is cappuccino for you!

As you can see dear reader the Irish really are jokers and so every time we got off the bikes the rain stopped and every time we got on the bikes it started. It was noted at dinner tonight that as soon as we got to our hotel the sun shone and the clouds blew away!!!

Jameson Distillery was very interesting as we were shown how the Irish make their thrice distilled nectar of the gods - 4 of our group volunteered for the whiskey tasting to see what was the best whiskey - the Irish 3x distilled; the scotch 2x distilled; and the american 1x distilled (I heard Johnny Walker's name and that bloke Jack Daniels being mentioned in a derogatory manner by our tour guide....) Anyway Dugal, Jim, Frank and Brett tasted and received a certificate to prove it - well done boys - why were you all having trouble with your sense of direction leaving that stop?

Leaving Midleton at 2pm saw us about 2/3 the way through our 137km run for the day. Remember it is still raining but is easing. Next tourist attraction is Cobh (pronounced Cove) which was also called Queenstown and was the final departure port for the Titanic. An amazing little town clinging to a cliff face - take pity dear reader for us riders with our foot clutches and dodgy brakes. The approach to the port was down a oneway street that had a decline of at least 60 degrees - it felt like straight down!!! and so we had to stay upright and focused so as not to wipe out any of the locals that walked in our way. A killer right hand bend found us on the narrow road to the visitors' centre - which Dugal completely missed as he zoomed past it on the Blackhawk. We spent about an hour and a bit looking at the exhibits and reading about international travel and cruise holidays for the poor Irish back in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. Note reader the sun was shining at this point.

Final fuel stop for the day and we finished our ride in bright sunshine at the Caragaline Court Hotel, Cork (Corcaigh for Irish readers) Heaters on in rooms, clothes draped around rooms - everyone had the same story at dinner. As mentioned earlier about the betting on the Princess award - Brett came home a winner - he was a sure thing and I should have put at least 5 euro on the nose. Well you live and you learn.

So Monday was wet, wet, wet but really it was just more fun, fun, fun - soggy or not your would not be dead for quids (oops euros - we are in IRELAND).

Heading for Ireland - news from Saturday and Sunday

It would seem to this blogger that when all else fails and it is raining - go do the washing! Lyndel and Phil rounded up as much washing as possible Saturday morning and headed off on the Indian Vincent to "The Anchor" Caravan park to interact with the local welsh holiday makers and very large front loading washing machines. Much fun and laughter as Phil tried to sort Jim's jocks from his own..... Many of the other travellers went into Brecon to take in the local coffee and sights and Phillip and Dorothy hopped on the local bus and went in to Cardiff - the bus driver said it was a short 2 hours for the trip but, as poor Phillip recounts nearing death from thirst (ie. not a drop of ale from here to Cardiff), this was one way and they were stuck on the bus over the scenic Brecon Beacons (local hill formations used regularly by bushwalkers and insane fell running clubs) with the local ladies who had had a day shopping in the big smoke! This lay day ended well with a cozy meal at our accom and then off to bed early ready for the 9am start on Sunday - do recall readers that the night before the group had "tied one on" and many (especially the Princess of the day - Chris) were feeling a little jaded and needing TLC from their fellow adventurers.

So Sunday morning we awoke to intermittent sunshine and the promise of a big day of riding ahead. Destination - Fishguard - to catch the 14.30 ferry to Rosslare Ireland. Again Tim led the group and one rider was so enthusiastic to get started that she rode out of the carpark and was nearly totalled by a silver vehicle of the 4 wheel variety. This blogger is again reliably informed that Lyndel SWEARS she checked the road before committing to the tarmac and that car just CAME OUT OF NOWWHERE I SWEAR IT DID! So that lucky girl was made Princess of the day at dinner that evening (and I thought I got away with that one! ) The ride was a little damp but not our spirits and we drove through some beautiful Welsh countyside savouring as much of the view as we could - we were pushing hard to get to the ferry as Jim is always keen to make sure that we have lots of time up our sleeve in case of any problems with bookings and ticketing.

So 11.30am saw us heading into the port town of Fishguard - main agenda item for all - LUNCH. Weather in Fishguard - sunny, no cloud; forecast for ferry crossing - force 5-7 gales. The bloke at the little pub where many of us had our lunch told us that Saturday the weather had been torrential rain and gale force winds "you should have been here yesterday" kind of news - not. So after a very delicious carvery luncheon we started up the Indians and rode onto the ferry at about 1.30pm.

Life aboard ferry for the next 3 and 1/2 hours was mixed - Annie and family took Travacalm and so did Peter Van S so the last we saw of him was snoring soundly on a couch in the bar. Those intrepid shoppers Sue and Merredith spent considerable time in the jewellery section of the onboard shop. Jim watched the Aussies flogging the Poms at the cricket, had a nap with Phil P and Brett played the pokies - and lost! Leaving the ferry at 6.00pm we were met by Conor's brother Fintan who led us to our stop for the night at Waterford. Jerry and Greraldine, Conor's parents, met us at the Ramada and gave him a really big surprise. Dinner was at 9.00pm and everyone was very pleased to be in clean, fresh clothes eating a good meal and doing their very best to buy wine in bottles bigger than those you get on the aircraft - yes the Irish have not heard of 750mls sized bottles and Dorothy and Toni were forced to take out a small loan from the local irish money lender in order to pay for enough little bottles to wet their whistles.

Lyndel, as mentioned, was crowned Princess and the weary, but dedicated riders bid goodnight to each other and headed for the vastly improved accomodation of the Ramada Viking Hotel.

Note to reader from Club Captain: Sunday ride out 9am SHARP. Remember that..........

The Tour Starts - Friday 10th July

The day started well with sunshine and an expected top of 25c - none the less there was wet weather gear galore to be seen on the riders! ETD - 9am. Conor had his way and we were off from the Quality Inn at 9.06am. London Tour Leader - the intrepid Tim Raindle led us out of Slough and headed off in the direction of Windsor Castle. His buddy Serena, on her Moto Guzzi, took up the rear and for the entire trip to Talgarth, Wales, she was "tailendcharlie" and stopped the traffic at each of our stops so we could ride off in one large group. Needless to say, in the middle of a traffic congested town we were very grateful for her courage and sheer determination when it came to telling the poms to "Wait!!!" Jim, who had been awarded the inaugural "Highland Tour Princess" award for 1st flat battery of the tour dutifully left London and environs wearing his sash of honour.

Her Majesty was in residence at Windsor Castle and talk has it that she rushed down to the gate just to see those "crazy Aussies on their Indians" and wave them on their way. The ride found us in hedgerow after hedgerow and little hamlet after little hamlet. The camera in Lyndel's pocket was in and out all day trying to capture the scenery and really amazing architecture of the Cotswolds and Hereford - not to forget, every "little-town On Thames".

Morning tea was held at "insert name of place which won't matter because it was the best bakery in England" according to Toni." Jim headed for "The Bear Inn" and had his usual 11'ss.

Lunch was at the "Old Cottage Inn" which Peter Van S tells us was built in the 15th century - many of the group spent a lot of time bending their heads to get to the bar - such tall and strong Colonials we are! Bangers and mash was very popular as was the Steak and Ale and Cottage pie -now take note: the poms know how to make HOT food and many riders quickly reached for the pint of cold ale that was accompanying their meal.

Wales was penetrated at about 4pm and the mob found its way to Talgarth and the evening's accomodation at "The Castle Inn" in the bright of the afternoon at 7.15pm. Now if I tell you that many tour members ate Steak and Ale pie AGAIN for dinner you will realise just how great that particular "slice of the UK" is - and hot too.

Now the accomodation at said establishment is bunkhouse style and the top bunks were baggsed by the younger members of the mob - Dugal and Neville beat the rest to the prime real estate! However, this blogger has been reliably informed that snoring resonates up and out and over and consequently many of our beloved group were REALLY cranky this morning!. Tonight (Saturday) I understand that Neville has been relegated to the camp ground adjacent to the bunkhouse sans tent.

Jorgen and Catarina arrived at about 9.30pm after a quick trip from the middle of Sweden, across Denmark to the ferry and then across England and into Wales - a short trip by Australian standards and certainly not yet worthy of "longest distance travelled".

Chris Horner was awarded the "sash" for his valiant effort in trying to convert his Indian to diesel - and failing. Looks like Saturday will entail a bit of tinkering and draining of any rogue fuel from the '47 chief.

Many local ciders were consumed and pints of double Jim Beam and coke resulting in a fun, and for some late, first night had by all.

Final note from blogger: the pool table that was given a flogging in the evening by Daniel, Heath, Hannah and Mason has been secretly packed in BV2 and said young people are all looking sheepish about the big package that now holds pride of place in the van - I do think that those kids will suffer withdrawals if it gets unloaded.

Bikes on show..........schools out

Thursday - Today we were asked as a favour from the manager of the warehouse where the bikes were unloaded, to go to his son's local primary school to show the bikes to the kids.
When we arrived the bikes were put on display in the playground and the kids were let out of class to see the bikes. We handed out aussie souvenoirs, (koalas) which went down really well.

London........arrival

Bit of a delay getting started on this page but circumstances beyond our control.
So here is a bit of a run down on the last few days.
Tuesday-We all arrived safely into Heathrow and settled into the Quality Hotel to get over our jetlag for a few days. Some of the group, mainly the women went down to London to sightsee and battle the underground. Some of us chose to relax and recover from our long flight.
Tuesday night we had our first dinner together and a few drinks to kick off the tour. Peter produced a tartan sash with princess written on it (donated from his daughters christmas hat) and announced that this would be the daily "spit the dummy" award for anyone who stuffed up the most that day. Whoever was presented with it would have to wear it for a whole day and if they refused then would have to shout the rest of the group dinner that night. There were a few candidates for this day including Lyndal and Mick for yes, wait for it, filling petrol in their oil tank and oil in their petrol tank. Brett for dropping his bike at the petrol station but Jim scored it for his 6 volt battery that he swore would never let him down. And it did!!!