Four days without internet access. Now that was a test of strength. I don’t ever want to have to go through that again.
So now I’m here, writing my last entry in Barcelona before I fly off to Ireland in five hours. I guess I should start packing soon. What clothes do I bring?! I’ve dusted off my tent, saddle bags, and my sleeping bag; adjusted the straps on my bike helmet; printed out some road maps of the Irish countryside; grimmaced at the five-day forcast for Cork and Tralee (thunderstorms all week!); gathered together an impressive collection of plastic bags; made Jonathan promise to water all the plants on the terrace while I’m gone; and booked a hostel for my first night. That’s gonna be interesting: I arrive at Cork airport at around 11:30pm and then need to cycle to the city center. As you probably know, most airports aren’t exactly in the city center. I’d better stop off at the local sports store before I leave and pick up some bicycle lights and bungee cords. I’ll hopefully arrive at the hostel before 2am. What the hell am I doing?!
One week and 200km later, I should be home again. If I find a reasonable internet connection on my travels, I’ll try to write again before I return. That is, if I return…. (insert evil laughter here)
