Thursday A cool day. In fact a bit nippy.

Halloween is just around the corner as there are certain indications – gruesome clothing in the thrift shops ) more gruesome than usual) and the appearance of pumpkin flavoured chocolate on the chocolate shop shelves. Truely!

I walked yesterday around the Castro area and Haight – Ashbury “ghetto”. The former is the gay precinct and it’s very much similar to Oxford street in Sydney, but not as seedy. The latter suburb is the area of 60’s flower power. I am sure it has seen better days if not decades. The flowers are artificial, the war cry of that era being “make love not war” . One is forced to make war with the daunting, demanding people loitering and asking for money. It seems that on almost every street corner and metro entrance is a beggar often with a dog. it is impossible for me to know how “needy” they are.

Again i was fascinated to see the street trees along Haight were Australian! Eucalyptus trees the dreaded Queensland Box, so beloved of the local councils in adelaide. As well there were bottle brushes and along the median strip – Kangaroo paws! Google informed me that these Australia. Plants were intentionally introduced in the early 1900s to “dry out” the swampy ground around San Francisco.

As only a minority will be keen to hear about the opera, I will simply say it was stunning. An art deco theatre and a wonderful production. I have the opera on CD but this was my first live performance. It’s an early work of Bellini who died of some intestinal complaint in his early 30s.

The city seems reasonably bike friendly although with the aggressive drivers, I am not sure it would be enjoyable.lots of bike lanes along the arterial roads into the city.

Its Wednesday, I am having breakfast at a trendy cafe on 18th and Guerrero, called Tartines. A week of this and my weight will normalize! The only healthy choice here is to order a Brioche Bread and Butter Fruit Pudding and leave out the brioche, bread and pudding (double cream custard). Picture appended.

And another thing, navigating across the Golden Gate by foot is becoming more dangerous because added to the cyclists are Segways. As always there are grandmothers on roller blades in the mix.

Chrissy Fields is a grassy park with Palm trees and cycle and walking routes on the approach to the Golden Gate Bridge. A quiet cool oasis on a hot sunny day. The field was the site of the landing of the first transatlantic air postal service. It was also an early airfield for the US MIlitary.

Sadly, as is the way with early aviation, the field is named after the military pilot lieutenant Crissy who crashed and killed himself on one of the earliest, if not the first flight delivering transatlantic mail.

The Waterfront and Pier 39 area is a very tourist orientated but this is America and so despite my initial reaction to avoid it…. I must experience it. Further more the place is seething with men in uniform as its “Fleet Week” and huge naval warships, carriers and ancillary craft congest the harbour. It’s also the week that elimination races are starting on the harbour for the America’s Cup.

If you delay moving off in your car when traffic lights change to green in the timeframe it takes for one vibrating atom, you will unleash a cacophony of horns! I document this as I have just experienced it first hand and had to go back to hotel to change underwear!

Tuesday I spent in the Museum of Modern Art, which on the first Tuesday of the month is free. Great museum. As well as “conventional” museums, I am always drawn to those that relate to interactive displays, science, technology, modes of travel. Finally I seek out museums of the performing arts, audiovisual, theatre, cinematography. In all of the countries travelled to date, I have visited the museum of cinema and TV.

At the museum of Modern Art there was an area devoted to experimental theater over the decades including a 60 minute Italian documentary from the 1960s in which a panel of 3 catholic priests conducted an audition of 12 young men called “Casting Jesus” . Moreover the audition was held in a beautiful church to add to the overall ambience. It was at times very funny! ( not by intention) they were all dressed in robes, head shawl, sandals and predictably all were bearded. Each individual then had to show an emotion or act a set piece: serenity, anguish, pain, suffering, break and eat bread. They had to recite a set piece, they were asked to wear a crown of thorns, demonstrate agony on the cross and finally “die”! The natural reflex of course is to collapse to the ground, but to mimic this when you are standing, arms outstretched, “nailed” to the cross, it does take considerable talent to crumple a little bit but not enough to give the impression that your arms are being ripped out of their sockets! The young man chosen in the end did not match by choice!

I had an email from my other Cathay Pacific pilot, Leigh, who was flying in Tuesday! So we caught up and had dinner together. Leigh flew in and Jake flew out on the same plane. Both have passed First Officer exams. If you are coming to SF and like seafood, then the Sotto Mare in Green St. is THE place to go!

I have a box seat to the San Francisco Opera tonight – Bellini “The Capulets and the Montagues” – In other words Bellin’s take on Romeo and Juliet!

Should be a little cooler today, the 3 months holiday has panned out as a weather “sandwich”! Hot-cold-hot.Almost makes me want to go back to Ireland! …. Just kidding!

Plan to drive to Napa Valley tomorrow.

I am back in Australia! Its a typical summer day and what is this I smell on the walk to the Bridge! Gum trees? Yes eucalyptus trees everywhere many quite old – there must be a story to these exotic plants in America.

Super size me! It’s true. The macaroons are twice as big, the biscotti are twice as long. the doughnuts are as big as the rings around Saturn, although the hole is smaller!

There is a world computer Oracle java conference with apparently 50000 attendees from around the world. The hotel is seething with geeks : spectacles, beards, big bums, T shirts and backpacks.

Starbucks Coffee on every block at least one and often two outlets .

I rose early as I do have a slight jet lag, waking around 1 am then 4am, and caught the trolley car up the hill ( as depicted in the tourist promotions)!they are fascinating and operate to this day in the same fashion as originally developed.

As well the “trams” as I would call them as also unique as the city have actively maintained “veteran” trams from the 1920 through to the current day, as well as examples of trams from around the world, running on the S F tram lines. There is a veteran tram car from Melbourne.

Jake and I walked 17 km today across the Bridge. Cycling is an option and Jake has done this before and I did consider it, but on the day walking the bridge is better. Most people walk it so that on a bike, the path is so congested that one would spend most of the time concentrating on slowing down and/or avoiding the walkers. This detracts from actually enjoying the view which to appreciate in the full one needs to dismount anyway. Solution go for a ride but get off and walk bike across. We walked to Sausalito, a rather touristy sea side village on the other side and had a late lunch. I had calamari which to my surprise was not accompanied by chips, bread, a bun or indeed anything else other than two small dishes of commercial sauces – one red the other white.

We caught the ferry back to Pier 1 then caught underground back to our respective abodes. Both very exhausted and a little sun burnt!

All airports chaotic! This is not “chaos theory” this is proven! The UK papers when I was there at time of the Olympics, opined that post Olympics, Heathrow would again descend into constant congestion. It has. The trip across passed over Greenland and the pilot informed us of a unique spectacle. The sky was crystal clear, beautiful sunlight and the grey rocks, glaciers and ice fields of the coast line appeared before us in a spell binding panorama. A photo could not do it justice through the plane window.

Getting through immigration at SF airport took almost 90 minutes. I have had all 10 digits fingerprinted and a mug shot. It happens to everyone, not just me.

Waiting at SF for Jake and Guy, I watched the passing parade of people and huge off road vehicle at the pick up area. One “truck” had unique head rest covers on both seats – cow hide with fur and yellowish horns on each side of the head rest! Yes it was the head rest and not head gear of the occupants! Although from what I have seen briefly I am sure I will see such head gear. Given that Sweden have Viking hats, Dublin leprechaun hats, the America equivalent has a infinite number of possibilities.

Jake is staying with Guy in transit with his job so for the next 2 nights I am staying at the Hilton, then I move to stay with them in their apartment. Jake has a trip back to HKK then days off, so will catch the plane back! His own airborne “metro” and so cheap!

By the way he passed his First Officer exams with flying colours. Hours and hours of study with brain food – Tim Tams.

Last night I ate at an American “diner”. Spanish omelette 3 eggs (super size mw) but I asked for 2 eggs only. I felt like I was in a scene from “Happy Days”!

Not too much jet lag. Not a big time difference. So nothing definite planned but a day trip to Nappa Valley, crossing the bridge and I see from Google that the SF Opera have a current season! Possibly a Wednesday or Thursday night out!

There is always the Castro district!

The day dawned, not surprisingly, sunny and clear on this my last day. Perfect weather until mid-afternoon, when it normalized to cloudy with a cold breeze.

Today I visited the national Library – less visited than the library of Trinity College and in some ways just as fascinating. For one it is free and has a reading room that is not quite as impressive as the Long Room of the Trinity Library, but almost. There is also a freje electronic genealogy area, with helpful staff, if your roots are Irish. The building itself is also of architectural interest.

I then spent some hours in the national Museum – Archeology. This is also an architectural beauty. Indeed the building and it’s interior is worthy of a visit just for this. The flooring is intricate Victorian mosaic tiling, a significant proportion being lost under the display cabinets. I would move the museum contents elsewhere and use the building to better purpose.

I also discovered the Dublin equivalent of Rundle Mall – so I was content! Seething with shoppers and all the familiar universal brand shops and food outlets. Buskers abounded, one could have one’s photo taken with a leprechaun. A delightful elderly Irishman, in costume, performed traditional Irish dances and jigs (tap dancing sort of) on a board no
More than one meter square.

I am at the Dublin airport, the queues are daunting but to give credit where credit is due, they move with great speed. The efficiency of the facility to check in on-line or at the kiosks in the terminal is detracted from by the need to then join a long line to “bag drop” which are manned.

I wondered why the planes to America always have a FedEx cargo plane parked adjacent! It’s for the golf clubs and buggies! Every american has twice the luggage of everyone else. Still I have taken my bike to Europe on at least one occasion, so “let him who is without sin, cast the first stone”.

In case you assume i did not enjoy Ireland please be reassured that I had a delightful time. It was so very different compared to Spain but that was part of the appeal. Riding in he rain I’d not enjoyable no matter where you are but that was only on one day.

San Francisco here I come!

The city is rather cold, grey, bleak and somewhat depressing. This perception is, I admit, compounded by the weather which is of a similar quality. There is no doubt that the capital is showing definite signs of the financial upheavals that have beset the country.

The banks have been “rescued” by the government and are now controlled in some way by them. I was more surprised to learn that most, if not all, the stunning golf courses have also come under semi government control!

The river that runs through the city is a dirty brown, unkempt and sad. It looks and feels as though it is coursing through the city by “accident” – to be honest it is no more than an apparent “drain”. It is so “alone”. The city, the populace don’t utilise it and I don’t think I have seen a boat or even a duck try to float on it.

A significant number of shops are vacant. Rubbish, graffiti and weeds point to lack of public money to keep the place looking proud and happy. The high streets in the suburbs seem to be a mixture of pubs, solicitors, off-license betting shops and sex shops!

In Europe, even Spain, the locals seem to “take care” of themselves, here even jeans are uncommon. The uniform of males is light grey track suit pants and a hoodie – non matching! The young women tend to wear black or grey leggings combined with ragged hem denim shorts that are so “short” they would make a sailor blush! It’s not a sexy look to me, but then, I am me!

The terrible rape and murder of Jill Meagher in Melbourne is making headlines in Ireland.

I wandered, by accident into a city area called Temple Bar on “Paint the Town Black” Guinness Day! In other words an excuse to drink all day and night! it’s 250 years since Arthur Guinness commenced brewing his ale. For 16 euro one can tour the Guinness storehouse! It seems that this is the Dublin equivalent of the Vatican! Hundreds of tourist buses disgorge their (male) passengers who for the exhorbitant entrance fee can “pull themselves” a beer at the end of the tour.

The standard shopping iconic Irish tourist merchandise is the leprechaun hat the tall floppy green thing! Picture attached. It’s the best I can do on the day.

I visited the Dublin castle, and the most impressive aspect were the numerous chandeliers of Waterford crystal!

I also visited the Kilmainham Gaol, brutally fascinating and then the grounds of Trinity College and it’s famous library. This has a spectacular room housing ancient books and manuscripts.

Village, the Loughs (lakes) of Caragh and Acoose.

A dilemma! Do I settle in for the day at Carrig House – curl up in a downy soft sofa, open fire, read “The Pickwick Papers”, indulge in more creative writing whilst continuously gently grazing on a large fruit and cheese platter with a chilled bottle of Pinot Grigio, then around mid afternoon adding coffee and cake, and almost certainly, intermittent power naps….. OR…. Walk into the local village (16 km return ) then cycle the scenic lakes loop ( 36 km )?

The choice is obvious.

Let me explain: there are some remarkable similarities between myself and Percy Grainger – the gifted Australian musician, composer and conductor at the height of his critical acclaim in the 1920’s (that’s got the dissimilarities out of the way).

Percy Grainger had a tempestuous relationship with his mother, indeed some say, incestuous. He was a masochist and indulged in extremes of physical exertion. In the days of train travel he was on a conducting tour for the ABC and, travelling to Melbourne for a concert, he asked that the train stop at Ballarat. He alighted and ran the rest of the journey to Melbourne, conducting the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra that same evening, if not a little out of breath!

On other occasions for a piano recital, he would enter the concert hall from the back, dressed in gym gear, sprint up the centre aisle, hurdle onto the stage and presumably execute a sort of gymnastic floor routine, culminating in a final somersault, with tuck, onto the piano stool!

He eventually married when, on an ocean liner to London with his mother, he met a strong, large Swedish woman who also, he discovered, enjoyed giving as much as she got! They married and whipped themselves into a frenzy most nights I believe.

My next holiday will be a P & O cruise liner, I think.

Having almost completed my cycling saga, I think the ultimate Irish Holiday would be to cycle the Ring of Kerry and combine it with fishing and golf- if that perchance was your bent.

If you were not a cyclist, then come in Spring, enjoy the sweet Spring Showers and swim the bloody Ring. Why do I immediately think of Wagner?

This is a very funny song about the English Weather written and performed by Flanders & Swann:

January brings the snow
Makes your feet and fingers glow
February’s Ice and sleet
Freeze the toes right off your feet
Welcome March with wintry wind
Would thou wer’t not so unkind
April brings the sweet spring showers
On and on for hours and hours
Farmers fear unkindly May
Frost by night and hail by day
June just rains and never stops
Thirty days and spoils the crops
In July the sun is hot
Is it shining? No, it’s not
August cold, and dank, and wet
Brings more rain than any yet
Bleak September’s mist and mud
Is enough to chill the blood
Then October adds a gale
Wind and slush and rain and hail
Dark November brings the fog
Should not do it to a dog
Freezing wet December then:
Bloody January again!
(January brings the snow
Makes your feet and fingers glow).

I have been surprised at the ubiquitous availability of Wi-Fi in Europe and even Ireland. It is free in every guest house, pub, cafe and the more modern buses and intercity trains! Carrig House by the lake was remote – no mobile service and the Wi-Fi dodgy at the best of times – I was almost going to complain about signal drop out in the bathroom.

Speaking of bathrooms, I discussed the issue of European shower cabinets in a previous blog. However plumbing is another issue to-wit the taps. I am but a simple man and 2 taps, one marked “hot” the other “cold” is straightforward. but the Europeans have a unique ability to complicate this simple solution. There may be one tap which is pushed, pulled swivelled up, down, in, out – in any number of permutations and combinations. There is another variation – a stainless steel horizontal cylinder with a knurled nob at each end. One nob controls the amount of water, the other controls the mix of hot and cold. There are other plumbing permutations which defy logic but the end result of all these is that until you master the logic of which tap does what and when, you are very likely to turn, push, pull, elevate or depress one, either or both of these taps and suffer an instantaneous cold shower. I could do that quite easily in Ireland by mounting my bike at any time during the day. I don’t need to have the same experience, unexpectedly in the bathroom of my guest house!

On the final day/night I dined at the Carrig House Restaurant in silver service style. A gift to myself after a rather sadomasochistic day, if not 10 days! Two entree meals: duck liver with caramelized figs and the second was a scallop dish! Both divine. Home made bread and local butter. Glass French white wine then to the drawing room for coffee and petit fours!

Thursday is a day of travel to Dublin, not much I can write about that unless there is another unexpected Irish bun fight on the train! So next blog possibly a day late?

This is my penultimate day of cycling and there is bad news and good. The bad, not unexpectedly relates to the weather: cold, wet and windy! It’s been the least enjoyable day of the trip as the rain was persistent. I was rugged up but the rain in one’s face, spectacles fogged up, detracts from the overall experience. Misty mountains are still enticing, in moderation!

The good news is that desperate and damp (in truth, soaked) I arrived at my destination – Carrig House. This is 5 star accommodation on the shores of an inland lake, teeming I am told with brown Trout. It is described as a Manor House as indeed it is. “To the Manor Born”. Huge rooms, marble fireplaces, huge sofas with dozens of fluffy pillows, antique furniture, wallpapered walls, heavy brocade curtains – you get the gist. And the Jaguar motor vehicle in the driveway.

You are greeted by “Audrey” with tea, scones and fruit cake, classical music on the radio ( in this case definitely the “wireless”).

But back to how I got here.

My first stop today was the fishing village of Portmagee. The route was delightful along the back roads and I came across several sites of peat “harvesting” (if that is the correct term). The Irish call peat “turf”.

Two things of note happened in this “little piece of heaven” ( as the brochure claims) Firstly I was nipped on the ankle by a dog in the street. It drew blood. I could not remember my last tetanus booster, consequently as I cycled along my niggling anxiety about being lost was magnified by the risk of developing lock-jaw. Lost in an Irish bog dying of tetanus.

The second event was that I had tea at a tea house on Portmagee Harbour. Every cafe near water has the same decor and atmosphere. The walls are decorated with black and white, even sepia, photos of bye gone days, depicting sailing ships, horse and carts, the harbor, the quay, the pubs. Incidentally, why is it that photographs of women taken before 1901, capture on print what can only be described as apparent grumpy old men in drag?

As well, framed newspapers tell of momentous happenings. Portmagee is no exception. According to the local paper of July 12th 1979 its’ front page, had pictures of a smiling young lassie, one Eileen O’Leary being presented with a silver cup – the first qualified female pastry chef in Ireland.

Included in the picture was Master Chef Eugene McSweeney ( with an obvious degree of pride. Perhaps he took young Eileen in hand ? )

The journalist further documented “Chef Eugene McSweeney is of the opinion that women are naturally more attracted to the pastry department than to the sauce corner……”. The sauce corner?!!

On this penultimate day, I also came off my bike I had crossed to the island of Valentia. As it was wet, windy and generally depressing, I rode from a bridge access, several kilometres to the other end where one took a ferry back to the mainland. This is not Kangaroo Island – one could swim from island to mainland 200m between the two. At the ferry loading there was what I thought was a white line on the road delineating where cars lined up for the ferry. I was at the time, (uncharacteristically) distracted by something, rode across to line up for boarding and the white line turned out to be a raised white kerb! I struck it and bingo! Base over apex! The only thing ruined was my mascara which was running already from the rain!

The highlight of the day was yet another crest and breathtaking descent on a VERY narrow road, a shear drop on the left and screaming down at great speed to Rossbeigh Beach. Today as I write this, sitting in the Manor by the fire with a glass of French champagne, that descent, in retrospect, was stupendous! On the day, however, it may have lost a bit of its appeal due to “brain fog”!

The weather is a perennial topic of discussion even amongst the locals. An elderly Irish couple explained that the summer was wet. Something about the jetstream moving a few hundred kilometers “down”.

There was a week to ten days of sunshine in March (March !!! ) and since then constant daily rain. August had ten times the usual average rainfall.

Tomorrow is my last day on the Ring of Kerry. I am leaving in style! A half bottle of French Champagne a slap up meal and definitely NO food pics on the iPhone! even though they justify it!

Today I decided to have a lay day. I was, weather permitting, going by boat to the “Michael Skellig”.
This is a barren stony rock rising out of the ocean, no human inhabitants, an abandoned monastery ( you guessed it- medieval) but teaming with wild life. The weather was not permitting! Too much swell! I was not surprised as the iPhone weather app suggested wind and rain. However the day was mostly sunny – as it turned out.

I now accept that I live each day as it unfolds when it comes to the weather. I can state categorically that each day has a stiff sea breeze ( even when nowhere near the sea), grey ominous cumulus clouds, broken sunshine and each day has the feel of a brisk Australian winter day! The contrast is all the more stark as I spent almost a month in Spain in temperatures serially exceeding 35 degrees centigrade!

All of these perceptions and remarks will give so much ammunition to my archetypal cynic in Australia (Mr Lacey) that he will be beside himself with glee!

So I decided to WALK a bit. There is a well delineated “Ring of Kerry Walk” some 270 km long. Indeed so well marked that even I would find it a challenge to become lost! The only drawback and it is a considerable one, is that one would need strong agricultural grade gumboots to safely cross every boggy field! I contemplated whether any Irish farmers have disappeared walking across these fields? One’s feet sink and stink (thanks to the cow manure)
with each step. Irish quicksand.

I discovered yet another delightful sealed, narrow access road around the cliffs. The road was, not surprisingly, called “The Cliff Road”.

During that walk from about 9.30 am to 2.30 pm , scudding grey rain clouds could be seen advancing across the sea towards me with a rainbow arching into the water. I was walking in bright sun, and then within seconds, I was drenched by a 10 minute downpour. The sun came out, the bitterly cold wind dried my trousers within half an hour. I had a rain jacket so my top half was dry!

I passed a unique circular stone “fort”. Actually it was an ancient farmer’s secure plot! This stone fortress was about 20m in diameter and had the remains of a square and circular building within. Fascinating.

As I walked the cliff road I watched as graceful soaring white sea birds circled in the updrafts of the cliffs and then plunged vertically like a dive bomber into the sea, to reappear several seconds later, presumably having speared a fish with their needle long beaks.

I was going to return to the same restaurant tonight to try the “House Platter for the Confused” but thought I should spread my tourist euro and went to one of the local
Pubs – The Fisherman’s Basket – and had the Trio of Seafood. My decision was vindicated, great food with some lobster meat, salmon,fish and a couple of crab claws! The crabs must have been on steroids!

Before I forget, my guesthouse in Waterville is clean and pleasant. Having had two amazing establishments to date, this one does tend to pale a little by comparison.

At breakfast a man, obviously a tourist, entered. I was about to try the friendly chat approach, asking him about his trip and from whence he came, when his mobile rang. His answering ring tone was ” I’ve been everywhere man”. He then spent about 20 minutes talking loudly to his mate. I remained silent and the more he talked the more I mentally calculated his roaming data costs with an inward sense of glee!

Tomorrow is my last stop with an extra day before Dublin on Thursday.