Every time I go out on the bike I see something new, or rather something old that I see for the first time! There is no other mode of transport that opens the mind and the eyes to little gems of history that otherwise are passed unnoticed. Yesterday I had a great spin out through Ballylinan and Barrowhouse, I stopped in Ballylinan and noticed an inscription on the side of the entrance stone to Grace Avenue. The inscription paid tribute to to one William Russell Grace, formerly of Ballylinan, who left Ireland in the 1840s, travelled to Peru to establish an Irish agricultural community, returned home and then went to the States where he became the first Irish American Catholic Mayor of New York! He held office, lost it at the next election but regained it at the following election and in his second term received the Statue of Liberty as a gift from France! Isn’t that an amazing little snippet of history. I had no idea about until I happened by chance to stop and read the feint inscription on the entrance stone! The weather was incredibly mild and I got a lovely 48kms done on the quietest of back roads.
Today took me in the opposite direction; while out in my sisters’ house on Christmas night, someone mentioned the Alpaca Farm at Augha. In all my cycles around the Nurney plateau, I hadn’t come across this Alpaca Farm, which I see on Google Maps is the ‘ Tinryland Alpaca Farm! I found it easy enough and could see them well in off the road but was disappointed they weren’t wearing hooped jerseys!
It was another lovely mild morning, even if a little misty at times and I headed on down to Dunleckney Graveyard, where I could see that TC Clarke, who lives beside it was having a gathering of the clan! A great footballing family. Into Muinebheag and out to Royal Oak, where I swung a left for Wells graveyard. One of the best kept old graveyards in the county – it wasn’t always so as the story board recounts the deterioration in the graveyard with ‘pigs, sheep and goats all using the headstones as scratching posts! Records show a church here as far back as 1262 AD and there is a well maintained Church ruin still standing. There are headstones dating back to the 1700s and it is still an active graveyard. It’s a very tranquil picturesque setting and you could hardly be buried in a better place!
I then crossed the old Kilkenny road and headed up a bóithrín in the direction of Milebush. Now that was a steep steep climb, with gradient reaching 15% at one point; no wonder Michael Meaney was always so fit! Mind you looking at the Ordnance Survey Map, I think he could have played for Kilkenny too! As I climbed up out of the Barrow Valley, I entered what appeared to be Carlow’s ‘Land of the Long White Cloud’ and visibility became quite poor as I made it to Baunreagh, subject of a possible new wind farm, which does not appear to be welcome in the area; there are a lot of houses dotted around here and it’s easy understand the concerns.
I was again glad I was on the bike as I finally saw the sign for the 1798 Camp Field, where Father Murphy and the Wexford Rebels were camped out during the rising. What an epic march they made from Vinegar Hill, were badly beaten at the Battle of Kilcumney, got up as far as Castlecomer and forced back down country before he met his dreadful end at the hands of the Yeomen in Tullow, where he was stripped, flogged, hanged, decapitated, his corpse burnt in a barrel of tar and his head impaled on a spike in the Main Square. Hard to forget or forgive those terrible deeds.
Visibility was getting poorer and I headed for home along the Ridge Drive, turning back towards Clogrenanne and then sharp left for the Cruachán and back through Graiguecullen. 54 kms in total, with 700 metres of climbing. Another great day in the saddle!
This morning, I set out on what I thought would be an ordinary Sunday morning cycle, but it turned into a journey through time—a living story that spanned thousands of years and wove together history, legend, and even a touch of rock ‘n’ roll!! My route today started at Rathgall Hillfort, one of Ireland’s most remarkable Bronze Age sites, and ended at Kilquiggan, where the ancestors of none other than Elvis Presley are said to be buried.
The Bronze Age Legacy of Rathgall
I parked up at the small car park in front of Rathgall; a handy place to reach a lot of interesting sights in this part of east Carlow and west Wicklow. The day began atop the windswept Rathgall Hillfort. Standing among the ancient stone ramparts, I couldn’t help but marvel at how 3,000 years ago, this site was bustling with life. The panoramic views stretched across the patchwork fields of Counties Carlow and Wicklow, and I imagined the people who once gathered here for trade, ritual, or defense. It was a humbling start to the journey, and as I pedalled away, I carried a sense of connection to those long-ago lives. Not far away is Moylisha Hill, with its own ancient Wedge Tomb, looking down on Rathgall.
Aghowle Church: Echoes of Early Christian Ireland
The next stop is one of my all time favourite places, Aghowle Church, nestled in serene isolation, at the bottom of a newly tarmaced lane. Take care to close the gates on arriving and leaving. Built around the 6th century, its crumbling walls stand as a testament to Ireland’s early Christian heritage. The heritage sign tells that it was founded by the great St Finnian of Clonard – but of course to us Carlovians, he is Finnian of Myshall – his birthplace. Clonard is where he founded his huge monastery and where he educated the ‘Twelve Apostles of Ireland’ – which included the great Brendan, the Navigator and Colmcille. At one point there were 3,000 students in Clonard – a University campus! The Romanesque doorway seemed to whisper stories of pilgrims and monks who prayed here over a thousand years ago. I had a short wander among the gravestones and spent some time admiring the unusual plain High Cross, with no carvings or markings on it. Most unusual. It was time to hop back onto my bike!The rolling hills of the Wicklow Way awaited, offering spectacular views as I made my way down towards the river.
Park Bridge and the Dying Cow Pub: A Step into the 18th Century
Soon I reached Park Bridge and the lovely Egans pub, which I admired from the saddle as I continued past heading onwards on my loop. The terrain was quite hilly and I was following road sections of the Wicklow Way over towards the famed Dying Cow Pub, 15 kms away its name as quirky as its charm. Legend has it that the pub’s name originated from the quick-witted landlady’s excuse to the authorities when caught serving after hours. She claimed the customers were tending to a dying cow and needed refreshments! It’s well worth a visit – it’s a tiny pub, full of memorabilia; the pub has been here for over 300 years and in the ownership of the Tallon family.
Kilquiggan: The Presley Connection
The final leg of the journey took me in the direction of Clonmore but I skirted left and headed along the side of Seskin Hill and on to Kilquiggan, where I paused by a quiet graveyard said to hold the remains of Elvis Presley’s Irish ancestors. It’s hard to reconcile the glitzy image of the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll with this peaceful corner of Wicklow, but perhaps that’s the magic of it. As I stood there, the connection between past and present felt palpable. From the Bronze Age inhabitants of Rathgall to the early Christians at Aghowle, the 18th-century revellers at the Dying Cow, and finally, the 20th-century legacy of Elvis, it felt as though history was a living, breathing thing. There’s a QR code on a sign at the entrance to the graveyard, which gives a detailed account of the Presley connection. Nearby Hacketstown also claims to be the birthplace of the Presley ancestors and there is also a connection with Stranakelly, where the Dying Cow is located. There are court reports from the 1870s of a savage beating William Presley received on land he rented in Hacketstown, possibly by the ‘Whiteboys’, a secret agrarian society which defended tenant farmers land rights… I don’t think Elvis was singing the ‘Green Green Grass of Home’ in honour of the old sod!
A Journey Through Time
The cycle home was mostly downhill, a welcome relief after the stiff enough climbs that had taken me across this historic route. As the sun peeped out fleetingly in the sky, I replayed the day in my mind, grateful for the stories embedded in the landscape. Who would have thought that a simple cycle could take me from 3000 BCE to the roots of one of the most iconic figures of modern music? There’s some iconic pubs on this route – Byrnes of Crablane, Egans of Park Bridge and The Dying Cow, all lovely places to visit if you are in the area!
Did I tell you the one about Elvis Presley? Turns out, his story isn’t just in Memphis; it’s written into the hills and valleys of Wicklow and Carlow, too.
Storm Darragh brought a shuddering halt to weekend rides and thoughts turned to warm memories of epic bike tours completed in years gone by – fuelling a thirst for future adventures in the summer to come. Plotting and planning. Part of the fun of bike touring is the planning of routes; the picking of interesting locations to visit, the researching the history of the routes and possible deviations to take in other attractions. Another is looking back at previous adventures to fuel the passion to go again!
On the 4th September 2010 Ronan and myself set out from Canterbury Cathedral in England, along one of the great European pilgrimage routes, the Via Francigena, from Canterbury to Rome.The route we were following was the route recorded by Archbishop Sigeric in the year 990 on his return journey from the Eternal City; there is renewed interest in the old pilgrim routes, attracting a growing number of pilgrims, though nothing like the level of interest in the Camino Santiago.
Entering the grounds of Canterbury Cathedral! (I’ve used AI to create a series of nice images to give a flavour of the journey).
We cycled the Camino Francés when Ronan completed ranga sé in Gaelscoil Eoghain Uí Thuairisc and he was always up for another big adventure. This was on a different scale; starting in the UK, crossing France, into Switzerland, over the 8,114 feet high, St Bernard Pass in the Alps and down into the Aosta Valley and on to Rome!
We had our paper maps and each day we would pour over them; It was disheartening to see how little ground we had covered on the large scale road map! France is huge!
One of the things we hadn’t factored in when planning the trip was that the route passed through parts of France where much of the fighting in WW1 took place and we frequently came upon immaculately maintained cemeteries containing hundreds of white crosses, with so many of them teenage soldiers. The futility of war.
It isn’t all plain sailing while bike touring and the road presents so many challenges, one of them being the weather. The wind always feels like it’s a head wind and parts of eastern France were very exposed so progress was slow enough. Add in a drop of rain and days can be challenging but rewarding when the kilometres clock up!
Map reading in the rain!
Fight with the chain…
But the great memories far outweigh the few hiccups that inevitably happen on a long bike tour. Passing from France into Switzerland was another major milestone and then climbing out of Switzerland up the St. Bernard Pass, to say the night in the monastery there at over 8,000 feet. Incredible feeling to cycle over the Alps!
The famous St Bernard dogs are housed here at the monastery and are used for search and rescue of lost hikers in the surrounding Alps!
Ronan at the border between Switzerland and France in the St Bernard Pass
Italy is one of my favourite countries to cycle in. The scenery, the off road routes, the food, the climate, the history and the people are just amazing. Every village has something special worth seeing or visiting.
Typical Tuscany scene!
Another great milestone was reaching the Mediterranean on our bikes from Canterbury! An incredible feeling to come down out from the rain along the Via D’egli Abati and into the sunshine of the coast. Dipping our front wheels in the sea… unforgettable memories.
Reaching the Mediterranean Sea by bike
So many towns, Bobbio, Lucca, Siena… worthy of a lengthy stop over…
An AI generated of the Guningi Tower in Lucca… not quite right but it conveys the beauty!
Cycling into Piazza del Campo, Siena, where the famous Palio takes place each July..
The Towers of San Gimignano…
Ronan cycling towards the Coliseum
The journey ended when we cycled into St Peters Square in the Vatican. It’s hard to believe it was fourteen years ago now! The memories are as strong as ever and it’s definitely a journey I would like to do again, with more time to do it. My intention then was to continue cycling at some stage in the future and continue to Bari in the south of Italy and cross over into Albania, heading for Jerusalem. That won’t happen now!
It is by riding a bicycle that you learn the contours of a country best, since you have to sweat up the hills and coast down them. Thus you remember them as they actually are, while in a motor car only a high hill impresses you, and you have no such accurate remembrance of country you have driven through as you gain by riding a bicycle.
Ernest Hemingway
The Camino del Cid Route certainly proves the truth of Hemingway’s words as it meanders across Spain, retracing the steps of the famous Spanish Knight, Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar, better know as ‘El Cid’. Unlike the mythical Don Quixote and Don Juan, El Cid was the real deal, a swashbuckling Knight who fought for, and against, Christian and Muslim rulers. The name ‘El Cid’ derives from an Arabic word, meaning ‘The Lord’.
The route begins in the sleepy village of Vivar del Cid, about 20kms north of Burgos and ends in bustling Valencia on the Mediterranean coast. I covered a total of 955kms and climbed for a total of 10,474 metres over 13 days. I used a series of terrific PDF guides of the route – different guides available for MTBs, road routing, gravel touring and hiking available on this website There’s also a very good App to accompany you on the route.
I followed a mixture of the MTB and road routes and threw in a few diversions of my own. The route took me into the very heart of inland Spain, a very remote and sparsely populated territory of a wide variety of breathtaking landscapes and vast natural areas, devoid of people, dotted with small towns and villages that seem to have changed little over the centuries and are remarkably well preserved or restored. It’s a country that values its traditions and heritage, a people that are friendly and welcoming and very similar to the Irish.
Most people associate the word ‘Camino’ with the various pilgrimage routes to Santiago de Compostela but ‘Camino’ in Spanish merely means ‘Path’ and there are literally hundreds of Caminos in Spain, long and short. This route has no connection with Santiago, though it does intersect with many of the routes, such as Camino Frances and Camino Sagunto. Spain is a Mecca for hiking and cycling routes, with many themed routes to choose from. This route is completely different in so many ways from Camino Santiago, especially in terms of numbers doing the route, the availability of accommodation and its remoteness. I loved it.
The Story of El Cid
Most of the Iberian Peninsula had fallen under Muslim rule in the 8th century and became known as Al-Andalus. It was constantly under attack from the Christian Kingdoms to the north. After the decline of the Umayyad caliphate the area broke into a series of Taifas, smaller independent Muslim states and the attacks intensified form the Christian north. In 1081 a knight, Rodrigo Díaz del Cid from Burgos was expelled by the King and forced into exile with his followers, spending years wandering around from Kingdom to Kingdom warring against both Christian and Moorish Kingdoms. Alliances were constantly being formed and broken. El Cid acquired a huge reputation as a warrior and strategist and he eventually captured the Moorish city of Valencia where he would die as a prince in 1099. And in death he became immortalised in songs and fables. This route connects various locations associated with El Cid and this journey followed the story of El Cid as he wandered between the different Kingdoms he was identified with.
The first lines of The Song of El Cid, considered one of the finest examples of European epic literature:
He turned and looked upon them, and he wept very sore As he saw the yawning gateway and the hasps wrenched off the door, And the pegs whereon no male nor coat pf hair there hung There perched no malting goshawk and there no falcon swung. My Lord the Cid sighed deeply, such grief was in his heart and he spake well and wisely: "Oh thou, that in heaven that art, our Father and Master, I now give thanks to thee, of their wickedness my foemen have done this thing to me!" Then the shook out the bridle rein, further to ride afar, they and the Crow on their right hand, as they issued from Vivar..
The Way that I went
So many memories and so many highlights; it’s hard to sift through them all so I’ll give a flavour of what stood out for me and what makes this route so special.
I set out with the intention of completing the off road Mountain Bike route but I quickly realised that my hybrid bike would not take the hammering of the rougher parts of the trail and I had to improvise and mix it up with back road and gravel tracks. I also had the wrong rear rack which meant the panniers were hung too high and that created a lot of instability That was an early disappointment but in reality the way that I went was equally challenging and equally beautiful.
The logistics for me were to fly to Bilbao (it cost me an extra €50 luggage charge – only for Aer Lingus to not bother put the bike on the flight… hard to do a bike tour without a bike! It arrived 24 hours later but I had to return to the airport to collect it or I would have lost another day). A bus took me to the start of the route in Vivar del Cid, just north of Burgos. The bus deposited me on the side of the main road on the outskirts of the village. I carried the bike and my three other bags into the village and reassembled the bike in a bus shelter and I was ready to go! It was great to start at the very beginning of the route,
First ‘sello’ or stamp was obtained from the elderly owner of Molino del Cid who gave me a sword to pose with for the official start!
The route passes through some of Spain’s most picturesque friendliest small towns and villages. Forty of them have been declared Historic and Artistic Sites by the Spanish Government. Spanish people are very easy going and friendly, not many speak English along this route but it’s not a problem and we found easy to understand each other with our attempts at translation and gestures! It was a short first day due to the late arrival in Vivar and things only really got going the next day from beautiful Burgos. Burgos is stunningly beautiful and is one of the major destination points of the Camino Francés. It’s a small city and I was in the country side within a matter of 2 or 3 kms and onto the off road section. I was quickly cycling through a beautiful pine forest and I was suddenly aware that I was in splendid isolation, a big contrast with the bustle of Burgos!
There are more than fifty protected natural areas along the route with moorland, valleys, mountains, rivers and coastal areas. I was immediately struck by the colourful mosaic of wild flowers, the birdsong and the biodiverse habitats that I was cycling through. Not a sound of a car, or sight of another person for miles on end. Listen to the cuckoo here!:
Cuckoo!
It was hard to believe this was 21st Century Spain as I followed these ancient paths that led towards tiny villages associated with the story of El Cid. In many ways little seems to have changed in these sleepy hamlets.
Off road between Burgos and Santo Domingo de Silos.
I didn’t meet many cycling or hiking The Camino del Cid but I did meet a lovely couple and their dog whose path crossed with mine in Santo Domingo – they were heading in the opposite direction to me towards Santiago.
Leaving Santo Domingo I quickly climbed up to La Yecla Gorge, a 1km long deep gorge carved out of the karst limestone, a fabulous walk located below the road. I had it all to myself in the early morning sunshine!
Spain is the most mountainous country in Europe and I think I cycled over every mountain top on this route! Constant heavy breathing ascending and elation on epic switchback downhills Every turn in the road brought exciting new contrasting vistas – rugged mountains, dried up river beds, green valleys, pine forests, orchards, vineyards, vast open plains of wheat, but no sign of Don Quixote fighting against the huge wind farms on the mountain tops!
One of the great highlights was reaching Albarracín, one of the most picturesque villages in Spain.
But there were many other villages equally as captivating and most pf them over looked by impressively preserved hilltop fortresses.
Words can’t do the scenes justice, so I these photos give a good flavour of the real Spain.
Sunday morning cycles are one of life’s great pleasures! It’s nice to get up on the bike and head out along the traffic free by roads, listening to birdsong, admiring nature and ending up in little places that I would never see while in the car.
Ballyadams Graveyard and Holy Wells
The plan this morning was to take the train to Kildare and head for the Grand Canal to try out the Greenway but when I arrived at the station there was a huge queue of people out into the car park. I gave it a miss! Instead I took the Sleaty Road and headed out past Barrowhouse, into Athy and hooked up with the Towpath as far as Castlemitchell.
The Barrow has been very high over the past while but it has receded now and you can see the River Griese as it enters under this bridge on the towpath before Maganey.
Athy has a strong sense of identity with the Barrow Line of the Grand Canal and it had a daily connection with Dublin back in the late 1800s; a fly boat service left the Capital at 7am and arrived in Athy at 5pm! A long day for such a relatively short journey! There was a fall out between the Barrow Navigation Company and the Grand Canal Company over the high rates being charged and eventually the Barrow Navigation was taken over by the Grand Canal Company.
I continued north as far as Milltown Bridge and then took to the road past Castle Mitchell GAA Club and headed over past Ballintubbert House and on to Ballyadams. I spotted an old Church ruin and Holy Wells on my ordnance survey map and took a little laneway down to see if they were still there. The old graveyard is well maintained and there’s a small Church ruin with a memorial erected in 1631 in memory of a Robert Bowen and his wife Alice Harpole (Shrule Castle?), decorated with a coat of arms.
I wasn’t confident that there would be any sign of the Holy Wells as they were located on the map in a wooded area, long since gone. But credit to the farmer, who obviously reclaimed the land, but he didn’t plough the wells out of it! Guardians of our past. I spotted two tiny figurines on a little hillock and I got in over the gate to have a closer look. Sure enough, they mark the spot of the wells! Delighted that they were still there and the traditions maintained. There’s a metal plate over the well but it’s still there!
I was on the home leg of the morning cycle now and popped in through Ballylinan and closer to home. A nice 60kms spin on a beautiful mild morning.
