Biking Inishmore

 It's a slow morning - the ferry captain thought the seas were too rough, and so delayed the 9 am crossing to 11 am - so we take our time waking up, having breakfast and getting our stuff together to spend the day in the Aran Islands. Cheesy scrambled eggs on toast is even better with aged cheddar, and a view over the peat bogs that line the cliffs of Moher, something we missed seeing with our very late arrival in the rain last night.

The ferry from Doolin is rough. Now it makes sense why our departure was pushed back. I can't imagine what the crossing might have been like 2 hours earlier, but it is very dramatic now. The waves crash over the bow, into the sides of the boat, eliciting shrieks from the riders up top. Mario and I hide out in the warm bottom cabin, safe from the splash, and almost fall asleep! The clouds are clearing enough to let the sun through a moment, lighting up our arrival on Inishmore.

Our first stop? Not the cute little town, nor one of many bike rental companies that line the pier. We make a beeline for the Aran Sweater market, to equip ourselves with the appropriate attire for the day's adventures : super-warm cable knit sweaters, proudly showing the Aran Island knitting patterns! Each pattern is representative of something of daily life on the islands, like fishing or farming. They are gorgeous garments, and we've had this on our must-but list since we began planning this trip. Now that we are warm and cozy, we collect 2 electric bikes, to be able to make some distance in the face of all this wind, and away we go to explore!

Remember how I said that our ferry departure was delayed by 2 hours? Turns out, that can make a big difference in how much time you actually have to visit a place. After the late start, the sweater-shopping, and the bike collection, we no longer had the freedom to stop everywhere and just look at all the beauty this island has to offer - we had to rush through. It reminds me of the way we often felt on organised tours in Egypt : you spent all your time at the shopping at the Carpet Factory, or the Papyrus "museum", and then had all of 7 minutes at the very end of the day to run through the Temple of Hatchepsut. And yes, I know if it's anybody's fault, it our own, since we opted to shop first and visit later, so I guess we'll have to add this one to the list of places we need to give a second chance, to be able to properly appreciate it. 

On our whirlwind tour of Inishmore : 

A stop at Aran Island Goat Cheese, to pet the goats, who nibbled on our hands in search of snacks. We got the snacks instead, picking up a small tub of soft, creamy goat cheese pearls, seasoned with salt local seaweed, giving the cheese a briny, almost black olive-like taste. 

Just past the ruins of an old church, we have lunch and tea, and tasty goat cheese, at the viewing platform for a local Seal Colony. But it's cold and windy, and the seals are probably at home, warm, and in their beds, rather than lounging on cold rocks in the wind for our benefit. 

We cruise past Kilmurvey Beach towards the nearby craft village, but having already purchased our Aran sweaters, we give this one a miss and continue on. And forget the beach - I forgot my swimsuit at home!

We park our bikes and hike the final stretch up the hill to Dun Aonghasa (Dun Angus), a prehistoric fort, with 3 full sets of stone enclosures, and build on the edge of 100-meter-tall cliff. It's crazy how high up we are, and so close to the edge of the cliff, where you can look straight down to the crashing waves below. We walk along the inner walls, soaking in the history of the place, then begin the mad dash back to our wheels. 

Mario admiring the view

Chip-stealing birds!

We pause a moment to watch about a dozen birds stealing chips, one by one, from the takeout box someone left in their bicycle panier, laughing at how the rider will undoubtedly return to find nothing but an empty box. Then, helped out by the awesome battery assist, we cruise on the wind back towards the port. The rolling hills, sectioned into fields by a wonky grid pattern of low stone walls, whizzes by us, and above, the sea birds glide on the breeze. And the cows are still to busy chewing their cud to pay us any attention as we speed by.

One last look at the ruins of the church of Saint Thomas as we descend into the town, and back to the bike shop to return our wheels. We make sure to pick up a selection of fudge from the man of aran fudge, because if there's one thing everyone says you have to do here, it's try the fudge. And then we are back on the ferry, down in the warm cabin, napping away the crossing back to Doolin, which is much smoother than this morning. 

This evening, we decide to head into town for a drink and dinner at one of the many pubs in Doolin. Our cottage hosts suggest several places, and we settle on McDermotts, which promises live music every night. Well, the place is full, and people, both locals and tourists alike, pile into the entry hallway to snag a table for dinner. We are sent to the bar for a drink while we wait, and I don't know if maybe luck was on our side tonight, but I had barely taken my first sip of cider and we got called to a table! I don't even think Mario's Guinness had fully settled! 

Dinner is homey - cottage pie topped with crisped mash on top, dark and rich beef stew - and filling enough that we skip dessert. In fact, we skip out on the night altogether once our drinks are done; though the music is starting, and the crowd is just getting warmed up, the day of cycling, much of it into the wind, has tired us both out, and I think a nightcap at the cottage sounds like an even better idea.