We Close in October, by Georg Grote
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What sparked the adventure of three German friends riding motorbikes through Ireland in 1985?
Does anyone remember that dreadful summer of nineteen eighty five? When bands of persistent rain were replaced by storms and more rain. When the roads in the west were flooded. And Ireland was close to drowning completely. It was exactly that year that I finally succeeded in convincing two of my German friends to spend their summer holidays in Ireland. Adventurous nineteen year olds as we were We brought our motorbikes and embarked on a three week camping trip along the west coast. Rain in northern France didn't deter us. Rain through England only whetted her appetites for lush green Irish landscapes.
How did the rainy arrival in Cork and the hospitality of the Carroll family shape the early trip?
After all, adventure travel spelled adverse conditions of sorts. A first set of complaints was raised when we reached Cork. I had arranged a stay in the garden of some scouting friends of mine near Dylan's Cross. But Sheila, mother to the wonderful Carroll family, took pity on us and ordered her four boys to make a bit of space for three drenched motorcyclists and their gear. Complaints comprised a broken photographic tellens due to rain Faulty reindeer? Leather gloves that had spread their dye on drivers' hands, and rain sodden traveller's checks that fell apart under the touch of a hand and had to be rescued most carefully. However Two nights by the warm glow of a cozy fireside, biscuits and sweet tea galore, and everyone's sense of adventure was revived.
We headed south west, West Cork and Carey direction. The rain stayed off until we reached Bandon.
Why did the sunny day in Bantry change the mood and highlight the beauty of Southwest Ireland?
A local chippy provided our staple diet of curry chips and we changed into our reindeer once again. But by now it was all jokes. Here we go another soft day. Bantry then changed everything. The sun broke through, the road glistened black, and the beauty of the southwest unfolded in all its majesty. The blue Atlantic Ocean, the green fields, towering hedges of fuchsia and palm trees, curvy roads which are every motorcyclist's dream completed the picture. Our bikes, chrome spokes and exhaust pipes shone in the June sunshine, and my friends soon joined in my praise of the countryside, its people and the mild and salty air. It wasn't to last. The sunshine, I mean. Pitching our tents behind a dry stone walled near Alleyhys was a challenge.
We used our motorcycles to stabilize our drafty little cotton huts, and decided not to go to the local pop for fear of losing our tents to the wind. One of us was sent to the local supermarket to buy some tins of precooked food that we could heat on our propane gas burners.
What challenges did the campers face while tenting at Alleyhys and what was the surprise about the “dog food” meal?
Another evening of baked beans with garlic. and a meaty main course in a flat, saucer like metal dish. Which had been on special offer, and which tasted somewhat strange, but nutritious. Some days later, when it was my turn to shop for the hungry bikers in their rain drenched tents, I was somewhat perturbed to discover that this dish had actually been dog food. But I never revealed the truth of the purchase. Nobody had fallen ill, so there was no need. The two days and nights in Alley were memorable, as we couldn't leave our tents because of the rain and the storm. When it abated on day three, we grabbed our gear, wet as it all was, got the motorbike started and headed on from Berra to the Ivara Peninsula and the Ring of Carrie.
I had waxed lyrical to my friends about the beauty of Darinan. Which we reached in the evening. We found a sheltered spot in the dunes, pitched the tents, and had a glorious swim in the bay. All of us got sunburnt in no time.
How did the pub’s “we close in October” answer influence the night’s atmosphere and activities?
But that didn't take away from the experience of being in one of the most beautiful spots in Ireland. And in the evening it was finally time to head to the Pope. Not far from Daniel O'Connell's house. A big fire was warming the room. We stretched our legs out and ordered pints. At about ten o'clock that night we got worried about closing time. We were in no rush to get back to our damp tents and clammy sleeping bags. So I asked the barman when the pub would close, and he responded we close in October. Which settled the issue nicely. The pub had filled up at this stage, pines were flowing, a fiddle, a tin whistle, and a baron were produced, and a great sing along ensued.
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Chapters
6 chapters
1
What sparked the adventure of three German friends riding motorbikes through Ireland in 1985?
0:00–0:40
2
How did the rainy arrival in Cork and the hospitality of the Carroll family shape the early trip?
0:40–1:38
3
Why did the sunny day in Bantry change the mood and highlight the beauty of Southwest Ireland?
1:38–2:47
4
What challenges did the campers face while tenting at Alleyhys and what was the surprise about the “dog food” meal?
2:47–3:49
5
How did the pub’s “we close in October” answer influence the night’s atmosphere and activities?
3:49–5:00
6
What made the spontaneous sing‑along and the elderly lady’s song a defining moment for their friendship?
5:00–6:07