Advertising on the Internet...

I've made a point previously that, in my opinion, the internet is becoming worse from day to day. I recently tried to sell something on Ebay to find that there is little seller protection on the site. You can't even leave negative feedback for someone who has messed you around. As such, the only people who seem to sell on there now are big companies or independent stores. It is now very hard to get a bargain.

Facebook, Youtube and other major sites are now host to borders of adverts that systematically get as much (inaccurate) information from you as possible in order to sell you junk.

Corporations have hijacked every corner of the web, popups have been entirely replaced by whole screens that jump in front of your eyes to lock your PC, and you can't even watch a video without first having to sit through 30 seconds of advertisement.

Previously, clicking in the wrong place whilst browsing was a mild inconvenience; easily solved by pressing the 'back' button. Now, an incorrect click can result in you downloading something entirely unpleasant onto your PC. Even legitimate download sites are plastered with banners such as these that only promote confusion:

Circled are no less than three 'download' links. Of which two undoubtedly lead to bad porn.

People often think that because a guy is surfing the net, he is looking for porn and thus, any advertisement that leads to smut is going to be appreciated. I'm sorry to say that this is not true. Whilst 90% of a blokes time on the internet is undoubtedly spent looking at porn, the other 10% usually has a purpose and having the worst kind of depravity thrust in your face at every opportunity is never appreciated.

Don't believe me? Well see how you like it the next time this appears on your screen whilst you're trying to show your nan how to set up an email account:

And believe me, that is not the worst there is. For those of you who have not heard of 'Rule 34', it is a widely accepted internet rule that states "if it exists, there is porn of it." I have no doubt that it is true and you will undoubtedly see evidence for yourself if you surf the net for long enough.

I understand that hosting advertisements is sometimes necessary for a website in order for the maker to get a steady cash flow. It pays for the upkeep of the site and in some circumstances, it may even be welcomed by the person browsing if they are actually looking to buy something. But, I ask a simple question:

Has anyone EVER bought anything that was sold to them through an invasive pop-up or browser diversion?

I expect that few people have. The reason is simply because in this day and age, nobody trusts something that is thrust into their face. It's the same feeling when visiting an Egyptian market. If a person comes up to you with their wares and shoves it in your face and announces that you should buy it because it is what you like then you are immediately going to walk away. Even if you actually liked what was being sold, you would not buy it because it stinks of 'seller desperation' and human nature is to disagree when someone tells you what you should like.

The worst culprits are the advertisements which prey on sad, lonely or vulnerable people. Whilst browsing (on non-porn related) websites and forums, I have seen the following popups in the corner of my screen:

Now, it's not the 'look' of the models that I'm calling into question, nor the fact that the model that claims to be 30 looks younger than the one claiming to be 18; it's the fact that not a single one of them has got any reference to anything remotely 'Stokey' in their usernames. Much like similar advertisements for 'dating sites', I would expect real Stokies to have usernames such as 'Oatcakelass69', 'Pottersforever1' or at least some reference to the magnificent museum we have. I've even seen a picture of a girl posing in front of palm trees with a note underneath claiming she is from Stoke.

If you've never visited Stoke, I will ruin the fantasy for you now. There are no palm trees.

One day, I would really like to be able to use the internet without getting sidetracked by an advert, tricked by a banner, or accidentally downloading 'Interracial Granny Midget Trannies 5' instead of the finale of Breaking Bad.

... and guys, if you are looking for porn I'm sure there are far safer sources on the internet than the suspicious pop-up in the corner of the screen. 

Meet Interesting People at Your Local KFC!

Nowerdays, social networking is a big business. There's Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Myspace and countless other sites whose primary goal is making money off people socialising. Then you have dating websites that use the same premise in order to bring people together. Some people call it a social revolution. Other people call it social isolation. This post is for those who fall into the latter category.

Sometimes, it is nice to get out of the house and meet other people face to face. The problem with social networking is you just don't get the same level as crazy as you do in person. Online it is quite easy for someone to hide their mannerisms and, in the case of this particular subject, their eating habits. So, for anyone who wants to meet new people, I say: visit KFC on a week day.

Firstly, lets start with KFC. It is not the usual fast food place of my choice. I have nothing against it, but I have found the food to be a little overpriced in the past and there is only so many ways you can dress up chicken. At the end of the day, if you don't feel like chicken, you aren't going to visit KFC. The other thing that puts me off is the fact that it always feels like KFC are hiding something.

For example, their adverts are as follows:

Hand prepared, fresh chicken. High-standard training. "Cooks". The advert certainly seems to suggest that each KFC has a massive, open, bustling kitchen in the back with chefs and high standards of cleanliness and food quality. I'm not suggesting that they are lying, but it just doesn't feel like that is the atmosphere when you glean a look into the staff areas of the restaurants. In addition to this, they seem to forget that it is a fast food place. I just can't imagine fast food being produced with quite the same calmness as on the above advert.

Instead, I imagine a rushed kitchen with people swearing at each other and an oven that vomits out chicken faster than they can put it in buckets to serve to people. It's the kind of place where chicken that looks suspiciously like brains occasionally finds itself the menu.

But I digress, KFC is not my first place of choice for food but as I was awaiting my bike to be fixed, I sat in there and I decided to get something to eat and take in my surroundings. Whilst there, I met the following people:

Spherical Man:

I first spotted this man when I was half way through my chicken wrap. In fairness, he was not hard to miss. He was a very large gentleman -- definitely morbidly obese -- and he was dressed in a massive dark t-shirt and baggy tracksuit bottoms. At first glance, he was just a generic fat guy. But then, when he briefly got up to get some napkins, I realised something spectacular.

He was a perfect sphere. Even his back was somehow rounded. If he had fallen over, he almost certainly would've rolled and would've struggled to get back onto his feet. If he wore a t-shirt with a world map on it, you could easily plan your next holiday on him. I text a friend at the time and stated that I would've happily gone up to him and told him that he was, for all intents and purposes, geometrically perfect. I am a thorough believer that everyone should be happy in their own skin and I thought it would be a nice sentiment to share with him.

Then he ate the bones.

He made his way back to his seat -- as geometrically perfect from the back as he was from the front -- and sat down. He had a little bit of his family banquet left so I thought he was going to wrap the chicken bones he had left in the napkins but instead he wiped his face and ate the goddamn bones. He chewed the cartilage from the end of the leg joints and there was a distinctive splitting sound as he took massive bites from the bones themselves. Like a hyena. I guess such geometry comes at a price.

Even he wouldn't eat at KFC

Straw Women:

This lady was a fleeting 'customer'. After watching spherical man munch his way through his family banquet like something from Animal Planet, a thin, middle-aged lady walked into the restaurant wearing clothes that looked suspiciously like ones she may have worn on a night out. She didn't join the queue at the counter to order food, she simply walked straight to the straw dispenser and took literally about 50 plastic straws out, crammed them into her handbag and then walked straight out of the building. Not exactly normal. Unless she does catering, I can only assume she is constructing something massive from the straws she grabbed. The fact that she went straight to the dispenser, despite it being out of the view of the door, also implies she has done that particular act at least once before.

Staring Kid:

This child made me uncomfortable. Children like to stare, it is an unfortunate side effect of a young persons curiosity. They want to look at unusual things, unusual people and unusual clothes and then usually go on to ask unusual questions that make their parents feel uncomfortable. This child was not like that. I don't consider myself to look particularly unique and I wasn't dressed particularly strange on the day I visited KFC. I certainly was not the most unusual person in the building at the time. Despite that, this young boy insisted on sitting there staring. The whole time, he just sat there and stared at me from the table directly to my right. He didn't even stop to look at his food, he just sat there and stared.

I actually thought for a while that he may have been blind because his gaze never left me but he walked unaided and gave no other signs of blindness. His mother didn't even seem to think it was unusual. She looked at him, briefly looked to me and then looked indifferent to the whole affair. I managed to spill ice down my front during my boredom and I thought that perhaps the child might laugh or break his gaze for a moment to whisper to his sister, but no. No emotions. No movement. No conversation. Just the staring.

He will either become a Christian missionary or a serial killer. Or both. Fact.

Chicken Decimator:

This was a young guy who came in and looked like a college student. I thought he was going to sit with some other students who had made their way in earlier and were chatting on the table in front of me. Instead, he ordered a box of chicken and sat on his own. There was nothing immediately unusual about him, but the reason he caught my eye was because of the way he ate.

I realise watching people eat probably qualifies me to be in this list of strangeness but I must add that boredom does bad things to me and I would not usually take such notice in the way people act, let alone eat. This was different. When he sat down and started, I realised that he was doing it wrong. I don't know how you can fail to eat, but he was managing it just fine. He would dissect the chicken; pull the skin from the flesh, pull the flesh into bits and then take the bones out. He then put the bones and the skin (with all the breadcrumb batter) back into the box and pushed the meat aside. I was convinced at this point that he would eat the meat and he was just a health nut but instead he seemed to pull the meat apart and systematically drop it back into the box. I swear, I saw him eat about five tiny pieces and then put the rest away.

And he did that with all of his chicken.

Either he was an android, or a medical student, or he had just come into the building for the atmosphere.

The Food Critics:

When I first arrived at KFC, there was about 4 people in the queue ahead of me. The two directly in front were in their 60's and did look somewhat out of place in a KFC. They were quite well dressed (compared to everyone else) and they spoke the queens English. That is to say, they were posh. Posh people need food too, so it's not all that unusual that they were in the restaurant. It was their mannerisms that were unusual.

For example, when they were queuing they were surveying the menu, talking about each dish and stating what they did or didn't like about it. "Oh Gerald, you don't like the fiery wings, they gave you a bad stomach last time". "Shall we have one of the burgers?" "They're not real burgers Cheryl, they only sell chicken here." After talking about the dish, they commented on the prices and when they finally got round to ordering they asked for an ingredients form. I half expected them to ask to meet the 'chef'.

They then sat down at a table and looked a little disappointed that there were no knives and forks available. The most surprising thing was that when they finished their meals, they actually looked rather happy and before leaving they walked to the counter (whilst other people were ordering) and thanked the staff for the lovely meal. I consider myself a nice person, but they made me feel pretty mean.

Still, I bet they wrote a scathing review of the place.

This is Colonel Sanders.

So, if you ever feel the need to meet new, interesting (and probably single) people then simply visit your nearest KFC and bask in the awesomeness of battered chicken of questionable quality.

Some of the Most Random Photos I've Found on my own Facebook Wall...

The other day I was pretty bored. So bored, in fact, that I thought a trip down memory lane was in order and as I am terrible at keeping hard copies of pictures, I started to look through my old Facebook photos. I started as far back as it would allow and as I flicked through the photos, I realised that there are a number of  photos in there that, without context, look somewhat odd.

There are even some that I truly cannot explain. Moments that only a camera can capture. Fleeting, beautiful moments like:


The time my friend and I turned a museum display into an obscenity:

I am so sorry, Imperial War Museum of Manchester. So sorry.

This one doesn't really need much explaining. The notice said, "Make peace signs or write your initials out of the blocks below". Needless to say, we didn't.

The time I rode a multicoloured zebra through Cape Town:

Pac Man looks more interesting in South Africa

This was actually taken during the 2010 World Cup and there were a couple of colourful zebra statues in the city centre. I was fairly drunk and was determined to ride one, despite the heavily-armed Policemen patrolling the streets.

The time I made the most awkward sandcastle ever:

Yeah, it was like the scene from 'Ghost', but more emotional

This was taken in 2010 during a trip to Wales. And yes, I'm ashamed to say there were children around.

The time I wore Laderhosen to a music festival:

A true British music festival... with mud.

My friends face says it all.

The time Mario and Luigi visited a comic book store:

Mario became somewhat more 'Nazi' in his later years

There really isn't a story behind this one. Any opportunity to dress up really...

The time I rode a horse:

The horse looks disappointed in me

I suspect there are a great many photos like this out there. This was taken in Capernwray, an inland dive site in Lancashire. If you're going to ride a horse, it might as well be a huge one underwater.

The time I WAS a horse:

The red drink turned man into horse

This was taken at the Shambala folk festival in 2010. I bought a mask and it would appear that even people who liked horses were somewhat unnerved by it. I made a point of leaning close to them and shouting "DO YOU LIKE HORSES?!"

The time me and a friend hit a time warp:

Benny Hill gone very wrong

This was also taken in the Imperial War Museum in Manchester, shortly after sculpting the obscenity on the wall. I think we were truly hated that day.

The day Thor and Loki were goaded into a photo with a very drunk man:

He was so happy, I didn't want to tell him we weren't the REAL Thor and Loki

This was Halloween 2012 and a particularly ambitious costume that led to a lot of people stopping me and my friend in the street for photos. It sounds great, put the people really were quite drunk... like this guy.

The time I accidentally became a merman:

I like that I'm at a similar depth to the people using SCUBA

This was one of those awesome moments where the camera catches something that would've been missed even by human eyes at the time it was photographed. This was taken in Egypt in 2011 and it stands among one of my most favourite unintentional photos.

The time my friend photoshopped me into... this:

I don't even know what to say to this.

I can't even begin to imagine the motivation behind this, but he managed to pick an awesome photo that actually quite accurately reflects what my true facial expression would be in this situation.


The time when... I... just... what the good God?

What?

The worst thing about this photo is I can't even remember it being taken. I think I was at Warwick Castle, but I can't begin to guess who these people were; why they were dressed like that; why they had abominations for children and why I chose to have my photo taken with them.

And finally, a moment of pure excitement:

I don't think I have ever been this happy in my life.

This was taken in Wales, and it is a picture of me touching a donkey. Needless to say, I am rather fond of donkeys.

I guess the point I am trying to make from this post is that it is sometimes worth looking through old photos because not only will you get to relive some of your fond memories; you might also get to find some you didn't even know you had.

Ireland: A Guide to the Country as Instructed by a Chinese Sat Nav.

I recently went to Ireland for 8 days.

Rather than fly, I decided that it would be a good idea to take my motorbike as it would give me the opportunity to see as much of the country as possible in the shortest amount of time. Before I could go, I faced two major problems: The first was luggage, as everyone knows motorbikes cannot carry a particularly large amount. The second problem was navigation.

Whilst I've never struggled to memorize routes in the past, I figured that for a trip to an unfamiliar country it would be far better to buy a sat nav as it would guide me exactly where I needed to go in the timescales I had set myself. So, with that in mind I muttered, "To the internet!" and set about searching for the best sat nav to use on a bike.

This task was not as easy as I had thought. Motorbike sat navs need to be knock-resistant, waterproof and have large enough logos to push with a gloved hand. In addition to this, they need to be mounted onto the bike and have to be easy enough to couple up (or have an alternate power source). As a result of these factors, motorbike navigation systems tend to be quite expensive. So, after viewing £400 Garmin devices and £200 car sat navs (with £70 waterproof bike cases) I was drawn to an unusual candidate:

I still wonder why -- aside from the price -- I was drawn to this particular device...

...it's a mystery to me.

I couldn't quite believe that this 'Peaklife' sat nav would be any good. It was water proof, knock-resistant, it had mountings, easy to fit and cheap-to-buy batteries, an easy to use Windows interface and it also allowed users to put films and video clips onto the device as well as listen to music and read ebooks. In addition to all these features, it had Bluetooth support and a clear screen. All of this, in a £115 package.

Sp, I checked the reviews on Amazon and they were all positive but what really sold the device to me was the fact that it was loved on all the biker forums I visited. When I saw that it also came pre-loaded with maps of the UK and the Republic of Ireland, I decided to buy it. It took a while to get to me (about 20 days) which initially confused me but when it arrived I realised why it had taken so long.

It was a Chinese made sat nav... from China.

Now, I have nothing against the industrious Chinese; indeed I own many electrical products that I use on a day-to-day basis that were made there, but I was concerned. I had timescales to keep to and if this went wrong, it could ruin the trip. I didn't even know if it would be programmed in English and when I looked at the instruction manual it contained little gems such as the following:

"Operation of our device is very easy, simply you press the button or touch the screen"

"when the user connected the power,please consider the right position,it is the best if the ralevant technicist can help you, because of you personal fault,you should take the responsibility for yourself"

"When you initially orient, you had better go tto a open place without upper shelter and wait for patiently."

The 'Engrish' instruction manual did not fill me with confidence. I was further dubious when I turned the device on and it immediately located me as being in the centre of Paris... about as far away both culturally and geographically from Stoke-on-Trent as it is possible to get on a European sat nav map. Thankfully, my concerns were unfounded. When I fixed the device to my bike (which was very easy to do), I drove no more than half a mile down the road when the device relocated me to exactly the right coordinates. I was set for Ireland.

Following the success with its set up, I loaded a few Big Bang Theory episodes onto the device and  pre-programmed the co-ordinates of the locations I was visiting in Ireland. I then set about solving the luggage issue by buying some panniers and racks for my bike. In the end, it looked like this:

But my problems were solved.

So, I set off to Belfast in Northern Ireland and this marked the starting point of my trip. I must add that I got across to Belfast on a ferry which was very comfortable but insanely slow. It took 8 hours to travel about 170 miles and if it wasn't for the bike, I genuinely think it would've been quicker just to swim across.

As the ferry ramp lowered and I set to disembark HMS 'Limping Like a Wounded Deer' the true moment of truth was about to occur for my Chinese sat nav. There was a tense few seconds when I made it out of the cargo hold and the device did not immediately register me as being in Ireland but thankfully it soon sprang into life. And so, with a heart of joy, I started my road trip.

From Belfast, I initially drove south to Newcastle to pick up my girlfriend who was accompanying me on the trip. It was a brisk April morning, but the sky was clear and I could immediately tell that Ireland was going to be a beautiful country to drive around. There were mountains nearby, the sea was glistening and there was a lot of wildlife to see. I made it safely to Newcastle (and was disappointed to hear that the locals did not have an accent that was a mixture of Geordie and Irish) and saddled up for the long drive ahead.

From Newcastle, I drove through Belfast again and headed towards the first location of interest: the famous Giant's Causeway. Whilst I was excited about seeing this geological phenomenon, the ride there was also something I was looking forward to. I had programmed the route to take me along the County Antrim coast road. A route that hugged the fantastic north-east coast and left me with wonderful views such as these:

Click to enlarge

I also immediately became aware of the abundance of history in Ireland. I passed no less than five castles on the drive to the northern coast. Some of them were ruined, others were fairly complete and I had to fight the urge to stop at every single one. The other buildings I noticed an abundance of was pubs. I know it is cliched, but Ireland really does have a lot of pubs. Unlike England however, they are all really nice. Even if the town is bland and boring, the local pub was a cacophony of colour and culture. Each was uniquely decorated which must have been a challenge in itself, what with every single village having multiple drinking spots.

After driving for an hour I stopped at one of the pubs in a small village. I wish I could say that my first taste of Irish hospitality was good but when we settled down for a drink, the place went a quiet and the locals did not look overly happy that we were there. As a result, we drank up and moved on. It wasn't a hostile atmosphere, but it certainly wasn't as warm and friendly as we would come to experience later in the trip.

From this village, I drove to the northernmost point of Ireland along not only the coast, but also (due to a road diversion) across some of the higher points of Ireland. In fact, the roads were so high up, there was still snow on a lot of the ridges. Finally, after another hour or so of driving, I was led by my trusty sat nav to the town of Portrush where the first hotel was located. We dropped our luggage at the hotel and headed out to the Giant's Causeway. I'm happy to say the 'Causeway Coast' did not disappoint:

I also managed to see another couple of locations that I had been looking forward to seeing during my stay. Dunluce Castle and the port of Ballintoy are featured (albeit highly 'dressed up') in HBO's Game of Thrones as the island of 'Pyke'. Needless to say, I made it my mission to visit the places where this was shot. If you're a fan of the show, you may recognise:

Ballintoy Harbour:

You remember the place right? Where Theon Greyjoy fingered his sister.

Dunluce Castle:

Its amazing what a bit of green screen can do for a place...

A Random Beach:

I hope that's water...

Needless to say, I was having a bit of a nerdgasm at this point, so I figured it would be best to get back to the hotel for a good nights sleep in preparation for a long drive the following day.

On the second day, I was up bright and early to begin the drive down to the second hotel which was near the town of Tulsk. The drive was a dry, pleasant, but slightly boring trip to the first stop of the day which was the Marble Arch Caves near Enniskillen. The caves usually have a 20 minute tour around the top portion of the caves followed by a further 70 minute boat tour. Unfortunately, the day we arrived had been preceded by a night of heavy rainfall and as such, the lower portion of the caves were flooded. We got a heap of money knocked off, but only got to see the upper part of the caves:

This is what a flooded cave looks like.

From the caves, it was a long, wet drive to the hotel. We passed into the Republic of Ireland and I had to switch my bikes dashboard over to 'km/h' rather than miles per hour. Driving in km/h was strange, primarily because speeds that you would usually do on roads in the United Kingdom suddenly seem obsolete. There appear to be only two types of driving in the Republic of Ireland; dangerously quick or painfully slow. Some towns implemented a speed limit of 30 km/h which is about 19 miles an hour and I found myself riding my clutch just to keep from stalling, it was that slow. The unusual thing was that the speed limits outside of the towns were around 100-120 km/h. This is between 60 and 70 mph; far too quick for most of the narrow, bendy lanes that lay outside the towns.

After getting drenched, I set my stuff to dry in the hotel, got changed and headed out to see the burial mounds of Tulsk. I would include the pictures of them here but as my girlfriend helpfully reminded me, "they just look like mounds of dirt." Even though some these mounds of dirt are older than the pyramids, I can't help but feel that pictures don't quite do them justice. The other reason I had headed to Tulsk was to see the 'cave of cats'. Pictures of this online show that is is a tiny opening in the middle of a field which opens out into a truly remarkable and interesting cave complete with inscriptions and an etching by the first president of Ireland.

To ensure that I found this cave, I inputted some co-ordinates into my trusty Chinese sat nav and set off to find them. Unfortunately, the only coordinates I could find were from some hippy website where 'druids' were banging on about the spiritualism of the place. They also stated that the cave of cats could be seen from the nearest burial mound and was 'impossible to miss'. I daresay that I should've considered the possibility that 'druids' probably don't know what coordinates are and as such, trusting people who believe that stones  have energy and stars talk to them was foolish on my part. Needless to say, I did not find the cave of cats despite searching high and low. One set of coordinates wanted to lead me 50 km in another direction whilst the other set wanted me to climb a barb wire fence, trespass through a farm and then head into a field of angry-looking cows 200 metres beyond. Fuck you, hippies. Fuck you very much.

At least my disappointment was drowned at a nearby pub where we experienced our first taste of the wonderful hospitality of the Irish.

On the third day, I set off for a part of the trip that I had very much been looking forward to. The village of Doolin and the Cliffs of Moher. The weather was dry and sunny and the ride was wonderful. I set off from the hotel and took the road down towards Galway before stopping at a petrol station for some 'Emo oil'. I don't want to be accused of a hate crime, but this petrol was cheaper than the stuff in the UK so I can only assume it comes from the grease squeezed from the hair of emos. Regardless, it powered my bike quite well:

The man at the petrol station was incredibly friendly and helpful. Not only did he talk to me about my trip so far but he also recommended a different route to Doolin that would take me on one of the best roads I have ever driven along. I took his advice and reprogrammed my sat nav to take us along the west coast. This drive was stunning and took us through 'The Burren', a unique karst (limestone) landscape and past plenty of  ruins:

The drive also took us to where the Burren met the coast and there were some truly wonderful cliffs to be seen. One of the more surprising things about the whole of my trip around Ireland was how good the roads were. Here in the UK, our road tax simply pays for politicians to go on holiday and buy hookers but in Ireland, it seems that they actually surface the roads correctly. Even on the country roads, there were few potholes and generally they were smooth and safe to ride on.

After making it to Doolin, we went to visit the magnificent Cliffs of Moher. The coast near Doolin is battered by the Atlantic and this has resulted in spectacular 70 metre high vertical cliffs called the cliffs of Moher. It was a little sad to see 'Samaritans' signs up all along the coast, indicating that not everyone comes to the cliffs for the view... a view that was truly stunning:

After visiting the cliffs and the visitors centre (which looked like a futuristic Bag End), we headed into Lahinch for my first Irish Guinness and a wonderful seafood meal. I hate to sound like one of those people who try to appear more cultured because they've tried something from outside the UK, but Guinness really does taste nicer (on the whole) in Ireland. Rather than that bitter aftertaste you get here in England, their version is smoother and doesn't taste quite so much like you've been gargling on a cows testicles.

After quite a terrifying night of strong winds that seemed to threaten me with the prospect of being torn from this Earth and sent on an adventure with scarecrows and lions of a questionable sexuality, I set off on the fourth leg of my trip. It was a truly glorious day of sunshine and low winds so I took a detour to the nearby Paulnabrone Dolmen for a photo:

Devil horns scare off hippies

From here I had a truly stunning drive to the city of Cork along the first stretch of motorway I had encountered in Ireland. This was where I realised that my trust sat nav might not be entirely up-to-date as it proceeded to freak out whilst I zipped across the landscape like a bird, following no road that was known to it. It spazzed out and tried to fix my position to somewhere it understood but could find no luck, especially as I went through a tunnel that took me under a large river. As I had not bought a set of earphones nor successfully linked the device through Bluetooth, I did not have the audio turned on but I would like to believe that at this time, the device was saying (In a Chinese accent), "Oh no, you are not on a road! How are you flying? Please stop! You are now underwater and are probably dead."

During my drive south, I realised something that I couldn't quite put my finger on earlier in the trip. There was 'something' about the trip that made it far more enjoyable than driving around the UK and I finally understood what it was. Irish drivers seem to like bikers. Every time I was behind a car they would pull over slightly to let me past, even though I was not making any attempt to overtake them. The roads were far more empty than English roads anyway, but this just made the driving even more special.

Near Cork, there were some beautiful ruins of a Priory that were just sitting in a nearby field so I had to stop for some pictures. It turned out to be called Ballybeg Priory and it had one of the best examples of a medieval dovecot in Europe. A dovecot is simply a place where priests kept pigeons. I guess not everyone would be excited by this, but it was remarkable to see an old building in such good condition:

The Priory, dovecot, and inside the dovecot

After the short stop, I drove on to Cork and was immediately concerned. Everyone was running. I thought it might have been the start of the zombie apocalypse, but the people were all in running gear, indicating that they were running for fun. I really liked Cork and it seemed like there was lots to do so I still don't understand why there were lots of runners out that day but it was not boredom that was driving them to such madness.

Before settling down for the night, I took a short drive to the town of Cobh which is on the outskirts of Cork city. It was a really nice little town with colourful houses... kind of like the kids TV show Balamory but without the pink castle. It was in Cobh that I realised that Irish hospitality is not just reserved for the bars. We visited a Cantonese restaurant and as soon we sat down, a menu was given to us along with a big jug of water, two glasses and a generous portion of prawn crackers. This was before we had even ordered. When our order was taken and it was noticed that the prawn crackers had dwindled in number, the waitress asked whether we wanted more.

I could've cried. NEVER have I been asked if I wanted more prawn crackers with a meal. I could've married that girl on the spot. She and my Chinese sat nav would've got on well.

Cobh, AKA Balamory

After a lovely meal and a walk along the promenade, it was back to the hotel for sleep.

On the next day, we were originally going to go on a whale watch but this had been cancelled due to bad seas and this should've been a warning of the day to come. Instead, I drove from Cork to the nearby Blarney Castle. Blarney Castle is famous for a stone. A stone that everyone kisses. The stone is not easily kissed either, it is right atop the caste on the apex of a ledge that overhangs a large drop. Kissing the stone is meant to give you 'the gift of the gab' (the ability to talk anyone around to your way of thinking). I really don't know who first found that out or what sick thoughts were going through their head ("I want to love this castle as only a man can"), but it has been the claim ever since. Suffice to say, I didn't kiss the stone because I talk enough as it is. It is likely the universe would explode if I kissed it... or it would take away my wit and leave me with nothing but my questionable looks to get by with.

My girlfriend kissing the Blarney stone... and yes, she has a head, I know because she loses it a lot with me.

In the grounds of the castle were many trees, a river and a poison garden which gave a really interesting insight into common poisonous plants that can be found in the UK and Ireland (for example, I never knew rhubarb was poisonous). In hindsight, we probably should've spent longer at the castle, but alas I came up with the idea of another drive to see another set of cliffs and this would prove to be problematic.

We set off from Blarney castle around midday and started a long drive towards the south west coast with our ultimate destination being a place called Mizen Head. These cliffs are said to be dramatic and geologically interesting and I very much wanted to see them. Unfortunately, an hour into the drive, it started raining very heavily and the winds really picked up. The scenery was fantastic but as I drove through a narrow pass and emerged on the other side, I faced probably the only bad road in Ireland. This was windy and covered with sharp gravel. I took my time but as I reached the bottom of the slope I had the sudden realisation that my back tyre was completely flat. It happened suddenly but because I was aware of what had happened I managed to stop safely. Before I even got off the bike I knew what the problem was.

I never lose my head in stressful circumstances so I simply sought shelter next to a nearby bush and dialled the RAC (who thankfully covered travelling in the Republic of Ireland). They were prompt and stated that someone would be with us within an hour. I was thankful for this speed because we had broken down literally in the middle of nowhere with only sheep and the driving wind and rain for company. This was my third encounter with the famous Irish hospitality as a local stopped to help us with directions and was happy to take my girlfriend to a nearby village for some food supplies whilst I waited with the bike. It was not a long wait until the RAC arrived and towed me to a nearby town to await another pick up to get us back to Cork.

I was drenched and cold so I went to nearby pub and was again surprised by how friendly the locals were. They all spoke to me about my trip so far and they started an open fire so I could hang my things up to dry in front of it. I enjoyed a few drinks and was able to relax until the tow truck arrived to take us back to Cork.

I will be forever thankful for this fire.

After a needed sleep, I woke up and had to book my bike into a nearby shop for a new tyre and what would end up being a new chain as well. I count my blessings on this as the store noticed my bike chain was loose and could not be tightened any further. It was a little dangerous considering we now faced a long drive to Dublin so the shop fitted a new chain whilst I looked around Cork.

Despite losing half a day to repairs, I was refreshed and ready for the drive to Dublin. The only problem was that I was setting off far later in the day than I had wanted and as such, the weather started to turn. I'm not going to lie when I say it was one of the most unpleasant drives of my life. My Chinese sat nav spent most of the time confused because the motorway was not on its map and there was the intermittent toll booth which meant a struggle with money before I could get through. On one occasion the bar would not lift to let me past so I had to press a button for assistance only to have a distorted Irish voice come over the speaker. From within my helmet I yelled a muffled response about the bar not lifting and I didn't hear his reply. Eventually, he got bored and simply lifted the bar for me.

Finally, cold and wet, I got to Dublin and was able to settle down for the night. The next day, I headed into the city to see the sights. I'm not a fan of most cities as I prefer countryside and beautiful scenery over concrete and people but Dublin was a nice place to visit. My only gripe? There are literally about two cash machines in the whole of Dublin and getting to them is a quest in itself. After a half hour walk and multiple curses, I found a cash machine upstairs in a Debenhams store by the lift at the very back of the shop in a little hallway (obviously, where else would you keep a cash machine?). Knowing that I probably wouldn't see another cash machine until I was back in the UK, I opted to draw out 'all the money' and from here headed to the Guinness Storehouse/Museum.

The Guinness Storehouse was really interesting as well as being a place where people went with the intention of drinking as much as they possibly could. Apparently there had previously been a rule whereby you could drink as much as you wanted in 10 minutes at the end of the tour round the museum. This has since been replaced by a more intelligent/cruel rule of having a free Guinness voucher and getting to taste another half on the way around. At the end of the museum you can learn how to 'pour the perfect pint' and then enjoy said pint in either the restaurant or Gravity Bar. The restaurant sells Guinness pies and stews as well as more Guinness to drink. I did get to see the Gravity Bar which offered a full 360° view of the city but it was also packed with some very drunk people. After a crude conversation with some guys and an invitation to their stag do (which I politely did not take up) we left the museum through a bizaare hall of mirrors with the music from the Guinness commercial playing:

... and yes, there were drunken people dancing like that man in the hall, just to make it a bit more surreal to an already alcohol-dulled mind.

The rest of my time in Dublin was spent drinking in pubs so it was relaxed and well-earned after a week of driving. I didn't drink so much as to have a bad head the next day which was fortunate because I had a couple more stops before the trip was at an end.

I was glad that the weather was far more pleasant on the drive from Dublin back up toward Belfast and even more glad that I had stops to break up the journey. The first was at a place called Bru na Boinne or 'Bend of the Boyne' which is an archaeological site located in County Meath next to the River Boyne. It consists of multiple sites, but the two we visited were Newgrange and Knowth.

Newgrange is a huge mound and passage tomb with a reconstructed front. The man who led the tours had very strict rules and a unique way of describing the site but he was an excellent guide who was also surprisingly funny. Photos could not be taken within the tomb but were permitted outside. In addition to the  tomb and mound, there were multiple examples of stone age rock art which is apparently some of the finest in the world:

Every year on the Winter Solstice, light shining into the passage tomb through a small 'window' has a funky effect of illuminating the whole tomb. People can opt to see this but have to be put into a 'lottery' and only a small number are fortunate enough to win. Thankfully, the effect was demonstrated to us using a bulb.

After Newgrange, we took the tour bus to Knowth, another site in the area where there were multiple mounds and passage tombs surrounding a single huge one. There was more evidence of Megalithic stone art at this site and you were allowed to take photos inside... but the guide wasn't quite so interesting as the man at Newgrange. Although nobody knows what the stone art means at these sites, the guides said that you could find your own meaning in the art:

I found boobs

I guess its not the kind of site that would interest everybody, but it was a really nice place to visit for anyone with an interest in archaeology, mounds of dirt or stone art.

From Newgrange it was the last leg of the journey. I drove north towards Belfast and was treated to some wonderful sites of the mountains ahead as I made my way through countryside and small villages. Before going back to Newcastle to drop my girlfriend off, I wanted to make one final stop at a location where Game of Thrones is filmed: the beautiful Tollymore forest. It is easily recognisable from the series as pretty much any scene in the Northern woods and I can see why it was chosen for filming. The forest floor is thick with moss and there are numerous streams and a river that runs through the woods. It really is a lovely place and I only wished I had had more time to spend there... ideally with a BBQ and some drinks.

After Tollymore it was goodbye to Ireland and one final chance for the Chinese sat nav to prove its worth. On my way to Belfast from Newcastle, the main road I was travelling along was blocked by the Police (Garda) due to an accident. I didn't know it at the time but a bus full of wedding guests had tipped up along the road and the route had been closed all afternoon. I was running a little bit late and risked missing my ferry so I trusted the device to recalculate a route. Thankfully, it performed very admirably and I made it to my ferry in the nick of time.

I had a very enjoyable time in Ireland and I learned that the people really are as friendly as everyone says (and it doesn't feel forced either; they genuinely are nice). Also, it is a beautiful country with much history and the Guinness really does taste better. I joked on my return that every street has a pub, every village has a church, every town has a castle and every city has a harbour but that was truly my experience of Ireland. I know it's had its troubles in the past but I would recommend that everyone visit.

... and if you're going to visit, do it on a motorbike with a cheap Chinese sat nav because they really are fantastic!