With two cups of tea and six pieces of buttered toast and jam in our bellies, it was time to leave our hostel and bid farewell to Cork. Before we left the city centre, we had a few errands to run. I mailed home the tarp we brought because it was taking up space and not providing any useful application. I picked up our second butane cook canister because our first one was getting low. Carrie popped into the tourist information office and came out with an armful of guides, maps, and leaflets describing what we just discovered was a coastal route around most of Ireland called the Wild Atlantic Way.
Although the WAW was designed for the motor touring set, it should work just fine for the pedal powered set too. Most of the route follows back roads and joins the busier national routes when necessary. That’s my kind of route.
We got our first taste of the WAW in the town of Timoleague, which had the wavy WAW logo on road signs pointing to an old abbey. The abbey was definitely worth a look. Built in the 14th century, it’s one of Ireland’s important religious sites.
On to the caravan park du jour, this one ticks all the boxes for camping luxury:
wash basin for laundry
showers with temperature adjustment
open, flattish grassy field for tent pitching
The most important of those items is the shower. Most showers we’ve used so far have a button you press to get maybe twenty seconds of water before it shuts off. The problem is you have no control over the temperature. The last two places we’ve stayed only spouted scalding water. Maybe the Irish are immune to first degree burns. I’m more inclined to keep my skin less melty.