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Date:
June 20, 2002
Hello,
I hope this email finds you all well.
I am writing from inside St. Patrick's Cathedral in
Dublin, Ireland. I am awed by the intricate stained
glass windows that depict stories from the bible. The
aroma from the burning candles mingles with the sharp
oder of the oil used to preserve the wooden pews.
There are only a few worshipers present. The dim
lighting of the church is a sharp contrast to the
bright sunny day outside.
I have spent the last ten days cycling through the
United Kingdom from Gatwick Airport south of London to
Holyhead, Whales where I boarded a ferry to Dublin. I
arrived in Dublin last night. The United Kingdom
includes ( depending who I talk to ) England,
Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. Dublin is the
capital of The Republic of Ireland which is
independent of the UK.
This is my second time both in the UK and Ireland. I
find myself viewing similar surrounding from a
different perspective. I have gained a greater command
of the political posturing and religious differences
that exist now and in the Uk's past. Knowing the
history of a region greatly enhances my travels.
I made a grand entrance during my first day in
England. I arrived in the town of Midhurst during a
downpour of cold rain. (Now I know why the English
complain about their weather ) The tourist information
center directed me towards a local pub for shelter.
The hotels in the area were far too expensive. I
located the pub while the downpour continued and
entered the bar. Everyone gawked in my direction.
There I stood soaking wet with matted hair wearing a
florescent yellow rain jacket. ( very un-English )
A puddle of rainwater quickly formed around my feet.
Feeling uncomfortable I unzipped my jacket revealing
the Argentine soccer jersey I forgot I was wearing.
England and Argentina are bitter soccer rivals. From
somewhere in the darkness I heard, " Nice shirt ! ".
The only thing that kept me from being tarred and
feathered was England's recent victory over Argentina
in the World Cup.
As planned Scott and I reunited in Bath, England.
Scott had stayed with a friend in London while I was
in the States. Bath is a stunning town. The city's
name originates from the Roman baths that were
accidentally discovered during the excavation for a
new building. The Romans occupied southern England
during the centuries prior the The Dark Ages.
initially bike touring in England was Dis-orienting.
Instead of traffic lights the English use the
organized mayhem of a roundabout. ( rotary ) All
traffic converges into a circle where they continue in
a counter clockwise direction on the left ( wrong )
side of the road. In the midst of the confusion I kept
repeating, " Keep left and look right. " While I
did this I sometimes rode past my desired turn. I
would have ridden past Gatwick Airport for the 3rd
time if not for the assistance of a local cyclist. He
escorted me in the correct direction..
Cycling through Wales was a highlight. The roads were
refreshingly free of traffic. I passed through
picturesque Welsh villages where the sheep outnumbered
the inhabitants. The locals allowed me to camp in the
meadow next to the church or the field next to the
pub. When I asked for directions I was given far more
information than I could possibly remember. The vistas
form Snowdonia National Park in north Wales were
amazing. Gone were the steel mills and coal mines of
the past. Replacing them is a well developed tourist
industry.
The World Cup has been a wonderful addition to my
travels. The passion the world has for soccer is
evident only outside the United States. I made a habit
of viewing the major games. In a pub I watched the
English crush Denmark. The noise level of the English
faithful was unbelievable. The Irish lost a heart
wrenching game to Spain the following day. For two
hours the normal daily routine of life came to a halt
and all the hopes and dreams rested on the outcome of
the game. Tomorrow England plays again. I love this
stuff !
From Dublin I intend to ride north towards Belfast
where I will take a ferry to Scotland. I look forward
to the ride through the Scottish Highland between the
towns of Oban, Fort Williams and Inverness. Then I
turn south to Glasgow.
I miss you all,
Dennis
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