Pete McCarthy wrote a book called McCarthy’s Bar, in which he toured Ireland and discovering bars with his name over the door decided it would be churlish not to have a glass or two in each of them after partaking of this refreshment he embarked on a line of research into the composition and cost of special noodles as served by Chinese takeaways which he discovered in his travels. The CAM tours of South West Cork had no McCarthy’s but Fleets, Garrards, Harrows and Tuckers none of whom seem to be in the licensed trade in Eire but what this ill sorted band found was that the hostelries of South West Cork specialise in Sea Food Chowder in many and varied forms and so a voyage of explorations commenced.
After a tortuous ride through South Wales and a considerable delay at the Ferry Terminal, four bikes were loaded on to the Swansea Cork Ferry, in a blind alley, facing down hill, on greasy steel, with no lashing, the restaurant had shut and the greasy spoon had created unimagined indigestion … but Murphy’s in hand we were on our way!
After a healthy breakfast and raising a sweat we disembarked in a rag tag order on to the Quay side the sun shone and the wind blew and we rode on up the river to the old town of Cork were we indulges in coffee in a pavement bar and convinced ourselves we were in France! Sun, out side, and with Euros, so why do they all speak English. We had a full day to get to Glengariff (80 miles away) so went the pretty way along the coast via Kinsale and Skibbereen, experiencing our first Chowder (thick, creamy, identifiable molluscs, and with Soda Bread for 8 Euro) at Clonakilty, the scenery was breath taking (which was to be a much over used term over the week) and the roads were something else.
The roads hug the coast and sweep in series after series of wide open double bends making for some absolutely brilliant riding, but the road surfaces can be very varied at times pristine and smooth, at others top dressed with “coat and chippings” all nicely banked and ridged, and at other apparently a flight of steps into the next bend. We took a couple of days to adjust to the mixed nature of the roads but it was noticeable how our observation and reading of the road developed and how we used gears more and more and upped the quality of our ride significantly.
Our directions took us straight to our cottage owner’s home and an introduction to the great Irish art of understatement have a brilliant stay and “watch out at Glengariff as they have the pavement up” …. What? … 15 minutes later this strange warning was clear, Pavement: (noun) the paved surface of a road. The main road through Glengariff was missing and had been replaced by a layer of loosely consolidated 4 inch to dust scalpings liberally irrigated with water and diesel! ….bloody hell it’s Magadan!
The cottage was super plenty of room hard standing for bike and all out of sight of the road and just across the way a tidal creak and forest walks right off the door step.
The South West of cork is made up of a series of mountainous peninsulas: the Mizen, Beara, Ring of Kerry, and Dingle. So that was 4 days sorted, with a day off for walking and fishing and a day revisiting a series of real fun mountain passes the week shot by. Chowder at Castletown Bearhaven thin spicy with fish and prawns 5 Euro 50. At Schull potatoes fish and mussels 8 Euro and at Brandon none at all at all but toasted sandwiches individually prepared by a lovely old lady who must be the oldest licensee in Ireland! And one of the best pints of Murphy’s ever.
Our last day was a ride up to Blarney (with no kissing of stones) and a very wet ride down to Cohb to see where the Titanic departed Europe and to sit in the rain outside a pub whilst the cup final was watched inside and a running commentary was provided by the smoker having a cough and a drag ion the door step … quite surreal!
Home by lunch time on Sunday after just over 1100 miles in the week… will we go again … no it was vile … or perhaps a secret jewel that we don’t want to share?

Article by Mark Tucker