A break from the serious world for a few moments.
This blog makes great effort to write all its material in the third person. An interlude today.
On Monday afternoon I left West Kerry at 13.50 on my Honda 680. Destination was Dublin, a distance of circa 380 kilometres.
It was one of the few clear Mondays since early June so the possibility of getting to Dublin without rain made the adventure tempting.
And off I set.
Still at novice stage every moment on the bike requires 120 per cent attention and concentration. The Kerry scenery is spectacular but there is little time to admire it from the seat of my Honda.
The relatively new Tralee Castleisland road offers the first signs of the big road. It brings an element of relaxation but also one of fear and terror. The level of concentration tires me.
Out of the Kingdom and into Limerick. First signs of cramp so a two-minute stop in Newcastle West to stretch and relax and off again. With the clocks gone back it seems a terrible waste of daylight time to spend any time off the bike before dark descends.
The semi-permanent road works on the Nenagh bypass make for scary driving but you just have to keep going. It's getting dark now and a strange sense of isolation and 'worry' sets in.
Nobody out there knows I am a novice.
Mountrath offers the hope of the motorway ahead but the punishment of the roads leading to the town certainly put a great damper on any hope of freedom ahead. Bollards and cones, gravel and muck are hell on a motorbike.
And then the motorway. Instead of it being a terrifying experience it offers openness and freedom. But it has its moments. A convoy of trucks ahead and need to pass them. But they are travelling at speed and suddenly as I am passing them I check the speed I am doing. The clock is at 140 km/h. What happens if I lose my grip on the handlebars or I hit a heap of gravel. I keep going and then move in to the slower lane and stay there. Relaxation.
The three-lane approach to Newlands Cross can cause confusion as most of the traffic, slow and fast, seems to stay in the middle lane. Where to stay? Keep going. And straight.
Arrival at Tallaght and the gear hides my identity. Job done. First time to drive to the capital. To work on it the next day. More fear but the second day it seems a little easier.
All a practice-run for the planned trip to Berlin and then on to Volgograd.
Maybe longer away than I had imagined!
This blog makes great effort to write all its material in the third person. An interlude today.
On Monday afternoon I left West Kerry at 13.50 on my Honda 680. Destination was Dublin, a distance of circa 380 kilometres.
It was one of the few clear Mondays since early June so the possibility of getting to Dublin without rain made the adventure tempting.
And off I set.
Still at novice stage every moment on the bike requires 120 per cent attention and concentration. The Kerry scenery is spectacular but there is little time to admire it from the seat of my Honda.
The relatively new Tralee Castleisland road offers the first signs of the big road. It brings an element of relaxation but also one of fear and terror. The level of concentration tires me.
Out of the Kingdom and into Limerick. First signs of cramp so a two-minute stop in Newcastle West to stretch and relax and off again. With the clocks gone back it seems a terrible waste of daylight time to spend any time off the bike before dark descends.
The semi-permanent road works on the Nenagh bypass make for scary driving but you just have to keep going. It's getting dark now and a strange sense of isolation and 'worry' sets in.
Nobody out there knows I am a novice.
Mountrath offers the hope of the motorway ahead but the punishment of the roads leading to the town certainly put a great damper on any hope of freedom ahead. Bollards and cones, gravel and muck are hell on a motorbike.
And then the motorway. Instead of it being a terrifying experience it offers openness and freedom. But it has its moments. A convoy of trucks ahead and need to pass them. But they are travelling at speed and suddenly as I am passing them I check the speed I am doing. The clock is at 140 km/h. What happens if I lose my grip on the handlebars or I hit a heap of gravel. I keep going and then move in to the slower lane and stay there. Relaxation.
The three-lane approach to Newlands Cross can cause confusion as most of the traffic, slow and fast, seems to stay in the middle lane. Where to stay? Keep going. And straight.
Arrival at Tallaght and the gear hides my identity. Job done. First time to drive to the capital. To work on it the next day. More fear but the second day it seems a little easier.
All a practice-run for the planned trip to Berlin and then on to Volgograd.
Maybe longer away than I had imagined!
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