On the road early after a nice chat with Eileen at the B&B and a nice silence with her husband John as he drove us back to the main road. Tim's dad, a true hero, dropped by in time to join us for a serious breakfast and took our gear on to Grennan's gaff near Cross, where barring a massive balls-up (which is not beyond the bounds of our ingenuity) we are spending the night of Day 9. Bagless walking and Eileen's cooking made for good pace up through Clarinbridge toward Oranmore. McKeating had done a pretty poor job as Morale Officer the previous day (indiscretions such as "Isn't this the shittest thing you've ever done?" spring to mind) but renewed his duties with gusto, although a hearty rendition of "100 bottles of beer on the wall" may not have been what his fellow walkers had in mind. He finished it, too.
After a brief pit-stop in Oranmore, we took the coast road into Galway city, which afforded us a glimpse of the Atlantic for the first time since Bantry and caught an almighty gale roaring in off the sea. The view and continuing sunshine more than made up for it, though. We made it into our hostel at 4pm and immediately rushed out again to get the street collection out of the way so that we could go and gorge ourselves. Aoife and Laura met up with us and chipped in, while Smodge took time off to buy himself a ladies rain jacket for 7 euro in Dunnes before helping us shake down an unsuspecting city.
A couple of hours in, it became apparent that the apathy of the Galway citizenry and our own increasing tiredness made it unprofitable to continue, so we took the money and ran to a nice Thai restaurant recommended by Laura. Giving ourselves the luxury of a 9.30 start the next day allowed for a couple of pints on Shop Street before the inevitable exhaustion kicked in and we retired to Sleepzone to collapse in good order.
Distance Day 8: 25k approx
Theme of the Day: R&R
Word of the Day: "Orange"
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