What a night! It will be the first one completely without sleep. As beautiful as a sunset over the sea may be—and camping with a tent and a motorcycle on the beach certainly radiates romance—but: keep your eyes open when choosing a resting spot. Never pick a spot on a rocky shore, especially not when wind force 6 to 7 is forecast, with gusts even higher. The roar of the spray sounded deafening to me despite earplugs. So while photographing the sunset and writing travel stories I didn’t notice it, but when I later spent some time in the bunk, I already started thinking about my “forethoughtful” site selection. For…

Dear experts, today there was pure nature pounding at my ears left and right, and left and right, and left and right … What a joy to be able to meander through this gem, oh what am I saying, a glory of nature. I lost myself in it. I sat on a stone and enjoyed the expanse on a high plateau, drifted aimlessly through valleys, and tried in vain to stop time. On the road to Galway I was ripped out of my dream. Too much civilization and heavy traffic. I then headed to the Burren to see some historic sights. However, as beautiful as drifting in Connemara National Park…

I have to keep this brief today. First, after three weeks I’m feeling, for the first time, a deeper fatigue that goes beyond the usual evening after a day’s tour. And second, I’m currently enjoying an indeterminate number of sunsets on a dream beach. At the end of a peninsula, on a slightly raised cliff, I sit with Laphroaig on my left and a cigar on my right, half‑in‑thought staring at the sea, grateful to be here, to enjoy this view, and to have made it this far. I’d love to share this moment, this feeling, with you, but that feeling can’t be captured with pictures alone. In cases like…

I stand on the cliff and watch the sea and the surrounding mountains for a few more minutes. It’s hard to let go. Eventually I turn around, hit the starter, and begin my day’s work. I don’t get very far. In the next little village the ice sign smiles at me and says “Come in, and get a ball, or two.” What am I supposed to do, the sun is laughing from the sky and everything is still somehow romantic … And on we go with curve slalom, it’s just a joy. At Healy Pass there’s Alpine feeling again. A solid 334 m high. Don’t think I’m trying to fool you.…

“Do you like Irish breakfast?” someone calls out to me from the side as I come back from the morning toilet. I don’t say no when the campsite neighbors invite me. Real, authentic Irish people from the middle of the country. We had checked in at the same time last night and the man of the family already had an eye on the AWO. I said, “If you do that again, you’ll go blind.” Sorry, a joke. So I accepted the invitation and we talked a bit about Ireland, the relationship with Northern Ireland, and Ukraine. I tried to steer away quickly from the last topic. Please, no such topics…

Slept well, had a good breakfast, and now we come to the not‑so‑good part. The side stand can no longer hold. Better than if I couldn’t hold it any longer, but from now on the use of this soft iron is prohibited. Mark, who happens to be the manager of the Ivybridge Guesthouse, rolls up his sleeves for me and arranges a workshop 8 km down the road. There I explain the problem to the boss, who gives the impression that he hasn’t had to work in a long time (so because of retirement, not for lack of money). I’m assigned an employee, and in a good hour the side stand…

The calm before the storm cradled me to sleep, the storm itself then bent the tent. The rain falls heavy from the sky, the steppe hardly seems to like it. I think I had a tooth pulled today. Even though there was nothing to see, I kept heading north into the Eryri National Park. Only in the afternoon, after I warmed myself up with a coffee and a soup, did the clouds slowly part. Here and there the sun blinked through, without the temperature rising even a bit. But at least I could see more of the spectacular landscape again. Somewhere in the mountains, after I’d already made the turn…

No, the title isn’t a reference to the British TV series. Rather, by circling Britain including Ireland with the AWO I made it a bit smaller than it might already seem from history. So now the last leg in left‑hand traffic, which I’ve managed pretty well despite a few small exceptions and all the worries. For example, I enter roundabouts dutifully clockwise, but perhaps I should still glance to the right now and then to see if something is coming from the side. I think I’ve caused a few wide‑eyed looks once or twice. Something I’m not used to is crossing the street as a pedestrian. It always felt odd…

The light and the announcement ripped me out of sleep. Still an hour until the ship sinks or something. I force myself up, shuffle to the toilet, splash some water on my face and get coffee. No, lie, that wasn’t coffee, maybe brown water. A look out the window, and wow, it looks great. Sunrise and beautiful light with the clouds on the horizon. Out onto the deck, and it feels mild to me. Maybe I’m not fully awake yet. But it feels like a nice morning, and maybe a nice day will follow. When leaving the ferry the passengers are greeted by a huge rainbow. And while everyone is…

… it didn’t turn into a black Friday. It also wasn’t especially great, especially in the second half of the day. First of all there’s a cozy breakfast in this beautiful country house. Before I mount up, I chat a bit with the landlady and then set off in good spirits. The landscape is criss‑crossed with more or less large hills, so I meander without haste through the area. I think I belong to the species of meanderers. The sun is almost constantly beaming into my face today, but the cold wind pulls and gnaws at the nerves. So time for a coffee and a slice of cake. Yes, two,…