A self-service full English breakfast at the Ramada amongst the Canadian geriatric coach tourists. The difference between an Irish and English breakfast? Not a lot really.
The sun is out, but only until lunchtime is the forecast. We set out together, Brendan is running with an empty tank as he is still not eating properly, but making a huge effort. He dips in and out of the day's ride for which I am grateful as it has been a little lonely with out him. I have heard everything that I have to say already.
The rain held off until a late lunch break at Antrim (the support van went the wrong route) then it came down in buckets. What should have been an exhilarating downhill run through Hannahstown towards Belfast was a slippery slope with bad visibility and a nearly nasty skid on a catseye turning onto the main road. But luckily no accidents.
Arriving in Downpatrick in pouring rain we loaded the bikes onto the van and set off to our B&B. Tonight this is some 18miles away in the Mountains of Mourne. Of course the rain stopped the moment we drove off.
The B&B is a rather splendid walkers' hostel. Very friendly and comfortable and our hostess Maraid is lovely. She has washed and dried our cycling gear, left the kitchen unlocked so we can make some breakfast tomorrow and given us a donation.
Found a great pub in Kilkeel, about 5 miles away, with draft Guniness and a good menu. The service is very slow though and we are waiting forever for food to arrive. We watch a march go past as we wait. Bowler hats, drums, pipes, the full works. It of course then transpires that the chefs are out in the march.
Early start tomorrow as we need to drive back to where we got off the bikes. Then it is down to Dublin for a well earned rest day with our women folk before the last leg back to Rosslare.
Oh yes, the difference between North and South Ireland in my view? In the north the road lines are white, in the south they are yellow.
Oh, and sorry Mary Beth. The gift shop was shut