Sometimes bike touring can be absolutely magical, when you roll through stunningly beautiful places with the wind at your back, meet friendly locals and simply delight in being alive and out exploring the world.

But first, breakfast: I try the Full Irish and to my surprise the black pudding (sausage made of pork blood, pork fat, oatmeal and spices) is delicious. Paired with brown soda bread, a fried egg and a pot of Irish breakfast tea, it hits the spot.

Our ride begins with a loop around the westernmost edge of the Dingle Peninsula, a road called Slea Head Drive recommended to us by a friendly and bright-eyed gentleman we met it Cahersiveen. The road is a winding ribbon perched precipitously above the North Atlantic, waves crashing below and seagulls flying overhead. Few roads can compare, with each curve revealing ever more beautiful views.

We make our way back to Dingle and begin a long and steady ascent towards Conor Pass. We stop along the way for one of our favorite roadside lunches: fresh brown bread, hummus, carrots, fruit, nuts and chocolate.

The climb continues and the views get better and better. Slowly we grind our way up and up. At the top, a cold and invigorating wind quickly cools us down. We hike up to a lookout and fill our lungs with cold, clean ocean air. A friendly man who has driven to the top smiles, nods at our bikes. “Electric bikes?” I shake my head no and he smiles. “Ahh, electric legs then.”

We zip down the other side of the pass. The narrow one lane road is perfect, as it slows the occasional car down to a crawl, allowing us to sail by with a wave and a smile. It’s a fast few hours into Tralee, past sheep pastures, long beaches and through small towns each with at least one small pub flying a banner supporting the County Kerry rugby team and a ubiquitous Guinness sign. By late afternoon, we arrive at our hotel in Tralee. It’s more of a business hotel than we typically end up in and they couldn’t be friendlier, offering to store our dirty bikes in one of the meeting rooms.

We clean up and head out to eat, famished as usual. We find a friendly fish and chips bar and sit next to a father and his three kids enjoying a Friday night meal out. They are a friendly and talkative bunch. The fish and chips are delicious and come with small cups of tarter sauce and mashed peas. I ask the father if you use the mashed peas as a dip for the chips, as you would the tarter sauce. He laughs. “Those are the vegetable, so it’s healthy-like. Nobody eats that shit.”