Day 7 – A bit of culture

After a week of really warm humid weather I awoke to a cool overcast morning- I’d say the temperature dropped by 10 degrees overnight. Bit of a shock to the system.

Spent a bit of time exploring Regensburg, described as one of Europe’s best-preserved medieval cities. It’s narrow cobbled alleyways and open squares of the old town with beautifully maintained traditional buildings makes the city special. The Steinerne Brücke, built in the 12th Centaury, is the oldest bridge crossing the Danube in this section. It is a massively constructed stone bridge, currently being fully restored. I just had to cycly across that.

The Danube is at it’s most northly point at Regensburg, and from here it flows in a south easterly direction towards the Black Sea. Regensburg also signals the start of the heavy navigational use of the Danube, for the first large river barges that are used to transport goods can be seen on the river.

Today’s route took me through Straubing and to Deggendort, other towns that had large and beautifully maintained old squares, evidence that this part of Bavaria is not only wealthy today, but there has been wealth here for a very long time. Along here you also pass Walhalla, a huge marble temple built in 1842 and reproducing the Athenian Parthenon. A crazy folly that appears in your sights towering over you as you make your way down the valley. King Ludwig I who commissioned the building obviously had plenty of spare cash hanging around the place.

During the morning I visited Stöcklwörth Nature Reserve, a large flat grassland area that is being managed primarily for breeding waders. Breeding Curlew is one of the target species, so not only are Curlew doing poorly in Ireland and Britain, but here too in Bavaria. The meadows seem to be managed in a patchwork fashion, with a mixture of grassland of different heights available to the brreding birds. As I cycled along the path through the reserve, up rose a Curlew calling and flying overhead- obviously I had gotten too close to her nest or chick, so she was not happy. I moved on quickly not to disturb her any more. Hearing the alarm call of the Curlew took me right back to the 1970s, when I remember lying in bed in my aunt’s house near Abbeyfeale and hearing calling Curlew outside; how much the landscape has changed as the hills around Abbeyfeale have long since fallen silent – a silent spring indeed. Strange what experiences trigger a response from your past.

The remainder of the route followed the Danube dyke to the south and the Bayerischer Wald to the north, with a strip of very good quality farmland in between. At one point there is a steep southeast facing escarpment with some small vineyards. Apparently this is Germany’s smallest wine growing region- from what I could see there were only a handful of vineyards. Would have been nice to stop and try some of this wine, but it was too early in the day for an Irishman to drink alcohol- as everyone knows the Irish only drink after 5pm!

I was cycling out of some village and passed this very elderly man on a Zimmer frame. I remarked to myself that this is a fairly active man of such age to be out on his own, away from houses. Seemed to have a ring of ‘The Hundred Year Old Man who Climbed Out a Window and Disappeared’ about it. And sure enough, about a half a mile further on I met two very flustered nurses, half walking half running, asking if I had seen a man with a walking frame. I said I had, just down to the left. For a fleeting second, in honour of Allan Karlsson, I thought about saying ‘yes, just up to your right’.

The last 30km or so took me through very sparsely populated farmland, where the Danube formed a massive natural barrier to movement. Hemmed in by the dyke to the south, the only people moving here were local farmers and cyclists. I know this is good farmland; miles upon miles of mostly maize and corn, but it is boring. Nothing much here to disturb my ruminations.

Another thing that played on my mind was just how goddam perfect this part of the world is. Everything is in order (ganz ordentlich); the cycle routes are wide and well maintained and the villages are immaculately neat and tidy.There is hardly anything out of place. I can’t but wonder does anyone in this part of the world wake up in the morning and say ‘today I couldn’t be arsed to pull that little weed out of the crack in the pavement’ or ‘maybe I’ll argue with the wife today rather than rake the driveway’? No, I guess not- Bavarians are made of sterner stuff apparently!

Stopped for the night at Deggendorf, having covered 110km. Austria tomorrow…

Day 6 – Back to nature

Just downstream from Neuburg there is a large nature reserve- mostly woodland, but with open heath areas too. I spent the morning here, aimlessly cycling along paths deep inside the nature reserve. At one stage the track narrowed to just a dirt track along a river channel, so I definitely got off the beaten track. Met a photographer here who looked like quiteness and seclusion were what he was most seeking, but while he did tell me kindly that he was trying to photograph wildlfe, I suspect my trundling through his demesne at that time disturbed hours of precious set up time.

In one open area, called the Jeckl-Brenne biotope, I spent some time searching out butterflies. There were plenty of marble whites, map and dark-green fritillary, as well as the usual whites, blues and peacock. Was delight to see (and identify) short-tailed blue butterfly, a new species for me.

I stopped for a break and while sitting there I saw both black and great-spotted woodpecker and was serenaded by a golden oriel, nightengale and cuckoo.

In the afternoon much of my route took me along the top of the flood dyke constructed often as part of the dam network. At this point much of the Danube has massive dams every so often, giving you a sense of just how important it is for electricity generation. The dykes are great for they give you a great view of the river and the surrounding landscape. The sloping banks are also well drained and full of wildflowers, so there is always something to see. A constant companion is the Banded Demoiselle – they are everywhere within flight of the river. I did have my first encounter with a snake as it slid away in front of my bike – I know I should cherish all wildlife equally, but I really would perfer not to get too up close a personal with them. I also got a bit too close to a young family of greylag goose and the parents let me know in no uncertain terms to feck off and leave them alone.

The higlight of the afternoon’s trip was a short boat trip down the Donaudurchbruch, where the river flows through a rugged gorge with no road. This provided great views of the gorge, while eating a currywurst mit pommes! And it was an effortless way to get to Kelheim.

I decided to continue to Regensburg for the evening, another 30km or so, to get to the nearest camping site. Regensburg is familiar territory for me, for I spent a week here learning German shortly after I got married, so that I could understand my new in-laws. Actually, so that I could speak to my in-laws; as anyone will tell you, you need to be equipped with more than a common language to understand in-laws!

Had covered 119km by the time I rolled into Camping-AZUR that evening.

Day 5 – Mr Bonjour!

I feel there is a bit of false advertising going on with the Donauradweg – the Danube Cycle Trail. You’d expect the trail to, well follow the Danube, right? Well those Fränkische Alb tourist people have managed to get the cycle trail to meander not along the river, but up dell and down dale so unsuspecting cyclists can see their offerings, whether they want to or not. Not that the region isn’t picturesque, it’s just it was a bit of a surprise, that’s all. If I wanted hills I might have opted for the Wicklow 200 instead.

Cycling the Danube Trail is a different experience; although it is mostly you and your thoughts, you do meet fellow cyclists along the way. You recognise people from campsites and no matter what your pace, with stops and detours, you tend to rendezvous with the same cyclists each day. Today I passed a skinny little Frenchman who I recognised from our camp site the evening before. So we greeted each other with a cheery (and heartfelt) Bonjour! Later that morning the same Frechman was stopped at the side of the track – I stopped too for a snack, with the idea of striking up a bit of a conversation- kindred spirits and all that. Unwrapping my snickers I greeted him with another Bonjour! But that was where the conversation began and ended, for I have no French and he had neither English or German. For a minute or two we tried to communicate through babble and hand gestures but soon gave up. We eat in silence, somewhat uncomfortably, until a discrete period of time passed so I could head off on my way.

Well, that was not the end of our encounters; however we managed it we passed at least four more time during the day’s cycle- each time we shared a Bonjour! but it was getting a bit ridiculous.

The afternoon cycle took me through farmland; cropland, mostly wheat and barley, but also alot of maize, potatoes and spinach. There were also strips of sunflowers planted around the edges of some fields so the landscape should look even prettier next month. Interesting that outdoors, there was not an animal to be seen. For a naturalist, the landscape offered meagre pickings; a couple of roe deer, red kites overhead and singing yellowhammers, plenty of yellowhammers.

In the late afternoon I was planning my stop for the evening and decided I would stay in a campsite at Neuburg, about 20km further on. I rounded a corner and who should be on the track ahead of me again but Mr Bonjour. Ah jaysus! Well I slowed thinking I could amble on behind him, but as I slowed, so did he. And he slowed…. I have no idea what kind of a game he was playing but I’d never get to Neuburg at this rate. As the track rose a bit, I saw my opportunity. A short gentle incline of about 50m lay ahead. I powered on, passing him with our by now customary Bonjour! making a break for it. I was pulling away, delighted to see the back of my French friend. And just as I was beginning to feel the exertions of my spurt, what happened but as I rounded a corner what did I see but feckin’ Alp D’Huez rising up ahead of me! Well I don’t know about the French man, but I nearly killed myself on that climb. But as I crested the summit, I achieved one thing, it was Au revoir! to Le Frenchman.

Explored a bit of Neuburg before finding the campsite for the night- it is a walled town with beautiful cobbled streets. Treated myself to a massive iced coffee from an Italian ice cream outlet- felt I deserved it.Then off to the campsite. I registered and was allocated my pitch- as I turned into where I was directed, who was sitting there beside his tent but Mr Bonjour!

Managed 100km for the day.

Day 4- The Blue Danube

Well my visit to Blautopf didn’t disappoint. In the side of a hill, water flows forth from an underground karst spring, welling up with microparticles of limestone, giving it a turquoise blue colour. This is the source of the Blau River that joins the Danube downstream. It is hard to describe how blue the water is in this 21m deep spring without seeing it at first hand; it is certainly worth travelling to see. Geologically this feature is similiar to the spring at Cong, Co. Mayo, but without the colour.

I was fortunate that I visited the site just before it began to rain, for the thunder showers arrived. I sheltered for a short while but decided to move on. Cycling in the rain is not a novelty for an Irish cyclist- and at least it was warm rain.

The spin to Ulm,a city about the size of Limerick, the first large city on the Danube was uneventful- I put the head down and just got into a rhythm to cover the distance. Managed to get hopelessly lost in Ulm – managed this a couple of times! Ulm is the first place you get the sense that the Danube is growing into a mighty river. Getting wide here, and plenty of people out using the river – boating and paddling on it.

The rain stopped in the afternoon, but it never really dried- it was one of the most humid days I experienced for a long time. As I cycled I noticed the drying soil gave the air a metallic, pungent small- very unlike the sweeter, organic small you get from soil at home.

In a mixed beech and oak wood that I cycled through, I noticed quite a bit of butterfly actiivity so I stopped for a while. Large fritillaries (they probably were Silver-washed, but like everything else in Germany, they looked bigger) and white admiral were flying around in sun spots. I tried to photograph some but I was eaten alive by mosquitoes. Clearly exotic pasty white flesh was too much of a treat for them to pass up. Lasted here no more than half an hour before I fled to safety on my bike.

In the afternoon downstream from Ulm I passed into Bavaria, giving me a sense of progress. Stopped for the night in Dillingen having covered 112km.

Day 3 – Losing my way

Now the navigation challenge set by cycling down the Danube is not that great, particularly for a Geographer. Find the river- it helps that it is generally the biggest around – then find the path that runs along the river, and head off in the direction of the flow of water. Simple, any old eejit can do it. Yet get lost I did- headed off to a nearby town. But evidence that there is a God out there, for had I not got lost I would never have experienced the Mengen Street Festival. The town was crammed with revellers, stuffing their faces with all kind of food from a multitude of stalls. There was music from stage and street, and all sorts of family events. A favourite was the cow milking competition right in the middle of main street, where teams took turns to see who could milk the cow the fastest. I should add it was a life-sized plastic cow that was being milked, not a real one (don’t know if that makes it better or worse!). This was serious business. Being a keen observer of such matters, I saw there were two approaches used to different effect; there were the teat pullers and the teat strokers. And it seems the teat pullers won the day. I wonder, if the cow was asked would she have agreed?

Once back on track the route took me through rich farmland overlooked by charming towns and villages of wooden framed houses with red slate roofs, each village more picturesque than the last. It really was picture postcard stuff. But you couldn’t help notice everything was tidy and nothing was out of place. I’d say its not an easy place to live, specially if you are a messer.

The route followed small hard-surfaced roads and well maintained farm tracks, beautiful for cycling on. This is stork country, a delight to see their huge nests in farmyards; at one spot there were 10 white storks feeding in a field within 50m of the track. I also got close-up views of a green woodpecker and a red-backed shrike. It is always nice to see birds that don’t occur in Ireland, but generally this is a heavily managed landscape.

Close to Ehingen there were a series of lakes by the river. They mostly seem to be used for fishing, but some were left as nature reserves from what I could make out. They must be good birdwatching here during migration.

The last bit of today’s route was a dogleg upstream along the Schmiech valley to see as the guidebook says the ‘spectacular Blautopf blue lagoon, source of the Blau River’. We’ll see tomorrow if it is as spectacular as the guide book says ( ince bitten twice shy and all that). I stopped in Schmiech for the evening a few kilometres from the Blautopf. Schmiech itself is a lovely quiet village nestled into a small intimate wooded valley.

When I stopped I had cycled 97km for the day.

Day 2- In search of beavers

Awoke to a rumbling in my stomach that I felt potentially could erupt at any stage. So much for drinking my cup of contentment at the source of the Danube- cup of contaminant more like it. Nothing too bad but I couldn’t contemplate eating anything; not a good way to start a day’s cycling.

Headed off downstream following the Danube proper now, crossing the first of many bridges just outside town. The early part of the day took me along the open floodplain of the upper Danube.

I was looking forward to seeing the Karst area called Donauversickerung, an area where some of the water of the Danube is lost undergroud to the Rhine through a series of sink holes. They calculate that with time, all the flow from this part of the upper Danube will eventually link directly to the Rhien. The guide book wrote of being able to cross the river bed during dry spells without getting your feet wet. There is even a special viewing point to see this spectacle! Well the view that awaited me was brown standing water: a bit like the Barrow downsteam of Goresbridge, only the Barrow is prettier. So much for the guide books.

Further downstream the river began flowing through the limestone of the Schwäbische Alb. The valley narrowed and soon the river was hemmed in by tall wooded limestone cliffs on either side – a very different landscape from earlier in the day. The first part took me through the spectacular Mühlheim Nature Reserves, a narrow valley with beautiful species rich grassland on limestone and slopes of scattered scrub and sheer cliffs. There are lynx here, but the area is perhaps best known for the beavers that were reintroduced here. And there is evidence of them everywhere. The rivers are strewn with dead trees, cut by the beavers to create dams. Consequently the river has a really wild feel to it; I was expecting at anytime to see Davy Crockett sail past in his canoe.

From here it was into the steep limestone ravines for many kilometers- a really spectacular landscape.

By mid afternoon I began to struggle on the bike, and I realised that hidden by the rumbling in my stomach were pangs of hunger- my body was running on empty. I had quite a distance before I came to the next village, by which time I really needed some food; I was thinking of perhaps a healthy salad or a ham and cheese roll- nothing too heavy. But as luck would have it, the only shop in the place was closed. So cycling out of the village, cursing myself that I didn’t have some stash of supplies, I spied a fast food trailer parked up at the side of the road. Great, a portion of chips would do the job. But Slavic’s Giros was all out of chips; he was all out of everything apparently except Doner Kebabs. Well I didn’t hesitate, ‘Ein Doner bitte- mit alles’! Well what was served up was the largest offering of greasy meat in a pitta bread I ever saw. But coveting my kabab much in the way that Gollum did his preciouss, I headed to the nearby bench to devour my prize. Half an hour later I realised that was not the smartest thing I’ve ever done; now pushing not only my bike and dodgy stomach but half a tonne of doner kebab too. Suppose it did make going downhill a bit quicker!

The remainder of the journey continued through this spectacular gorge (excuse the pun) scenery, where many a castle and monastery were perched high above, virtually impenetrable from below.
This area is really stunning, and I couldn’t help noticing that the area was alive with wildlife- the cacophony of grasshoppers and crickets calls coming from the grasslands is a sound now all but lost from the Irish countryside. At places in the woods, there were signs telling of the value of dead timber to wildlife, the valuable role insects play in decomposition and all about nutrient cycling. I was thinking, this place has it right; why can’t Ireland have as good an attitude to nature conservation? But soon after I began noticing signs all over saying that mining wasn’t welcomed here. Apparently the foresty service has plans to quarry the limestone nearby and some of the locals aren’t happy. Ah well! My idyll shattered. Stopped for the night in Sigmaringen, having covered 96km. Not bad considering….

Day 1- Finding the source(s)

My cycling trip began in the town of Oberndorf am Necker. The Necker is a name that conjures up warm memories for many an Irish person for, in a stadium on the banks of the river a few miles downstream from here, in 1988 Ray Houghton stuck the ball in the English net; an event immortalised by Christy Moore in his wonderful ‘Jockster goes to Stuttgart’.

But for me it was turning my back on the Necker and heading deep into the rolling hills of the Schwarzwald in search of the source of the mighty Danube, about 50km to the southwest. The morning’s cycle was tough; although I was used to cycling a lightweight road bike, hauling a heavily laden trail bike up nasty little inclines meant there was not much time for sightseeing. I suppose it should not have come as any surprise to me when my route took me along places like Bergstrasse and Schoenblick, and the halfway village was a place called Hardt. Mind you, I resisted the temptation of visiting nearby Hardter!

My destination for the morning was a place called Donauquella, the source of the river Breg, the longer of the two tributaries that meet downstream at Donaueschingen,and where the Donau (Danube) proper begins. The high ground here is open undulating meadows,rich in herbs- not much evidence of fertiliser use here.The final ascent to the source of the Danube is through wooded slopes, then a few metres below the ridge that separates the Danube and Rhine catchments, two of Europes mighty rivers, is an unassuming trickle of water that flows from a hole in the ground. Mind you this unassuming trickle is adorned by a statue of some wild looking Connemara man without any clothes.

I filled my water bottle and drank from this fresh clear spring- which I found out later was the first of my mistakes.

Having loitered for a while to soak up the sense of place in this remote head water, it was a steep and rapid descent toward Donaueschingen, where I would visit the second place to claim the source of the Danube. I suppose laying claim to where the Danube rises is something worth fighting about.
40km or so later I arrived in Donaueschingen, the home to the Furstebergs and more famous in Ireland for their beer. Then just behind St. Johanna”s chuch, an imposing building in the centre of the town, is a circular well, the official source of the Danube.Tossed a coin into the well to bring me luck and tried not to look at the plaque on the wall telling me it was 2,840km to the sea. Had to go for a pint of Furstenberg after that!

Cycled 103km and climbed almost 2,000km- not a bad day’s work.

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Down the Danube

The Danube flow for almost 3,000km from source to sea.

The latest adventure is a month long cycle down the Danube River, Europe’s second longest river. From its source in the Schwarzwald (Black Forest), the river flows for almost 3,000km through 10 countries and four of Europe’s capital cities, Vienna, Bratislava, Budapest and Belgrade, before finishing its journey at the Black Sea. Cycling, so they say, is relatively straightforward as there is a well-marked Danube Cycleway. This is a fantastic amenity as it will help me to cover the distance (and avoid getting too lost), but I hope to come off this busy route quite a bit, to visit as many as I can of the nature reserves and protected areas along the way. I am particularly looking forward to visiting the ‘Danube Parks’, 15 of the most special protected areas along the river. These are the last remaining free-flowing stretches of the majestic river, magnificent riparian landscapes supporting hugely important wildlife communities. The only one of these that I have visited before is the Danube Delta, a truly remarkable area of natural (and cultural) heritage; I am looking forward revisiting this area, but I am also looking forward to exploring new sites.

3,000km is a lot of kilometers and there will be much to see; places special and not so special, but always new places. Join with me and follow my journey #DowntheDanube #DonauRunter as I follow the flow of the Danube from source to sea.

The bike is kitted out and my bags are packed, so ready to roll.

Day 6: Clashganny to St. Mullins (13km)

Clashganny on the Barrow River

Day 6 was a fairly short final section of the Barrow Towpath from Clashganny to St. Mullins, a distance of 13km. Clashganny is another lock gate in a picturesque setting, but it differs from the others as excellent facilities have been provided here for users of the river. Lifeguards are on duty for the summer months, and there is a block of newly developed changing rooms and toilets for the visitors. Consequently, the area is a popular site for day trippers, and campers over the summer weekends. When I arrived mid-afternoon of a Sunday, the area was quiet again, but a smouldering fire and way too many empty alcohol bottles strew about, suggesting that it was not so quiet into the early hours of the previous night.

A couple of kilometres south of Clashganny I saw  two freshly emerged comma butterflies basking in the coolish afternoon to capture the maximum of warmth. Comma are now well established along the towpath in the area, yet is always a delight to see them. I also was greatly entertained by watching the queue of boats using the lock gates at Fenniscourt, to navigate up the river. You wouldn’t want to be trying to get anywhere in a hurry!

The Barrow at Graiguenamanagh

A short walk brought me to the beautiful village of Graiguenamanagh – a really picturesque village which, at first sight, seems to have everything going for it. A beautiful waterfront with plenty of moored boats, impressive façade of the Riverside Guesthouse reflected on the river, a magnificent 7-arch bridge and the backdrop of Brandon Hill makes this special. However, I know this gives a somewhat misleading impression for Graiguenamanagh like other villages in the vicinity is struggling to sustain or expand the local economy.  There can be no doubt but the development of the towpath to accommodate cyclists would provide a huge injection of visitors and revenue for Graiguenamanagh. But the question remains, does this alone justify the radical altering of character of the Barrow Towpath? Or could the aggressive marketing and promotion of walking and other river-based activities also generate the same level of economic development, without destroying the character of the towpath?

Selfie with Josephine and Bella

I was delighted to be joined in Graiguenamanagh by my wife Josephine and daughter Bella, for a coffee. Bella wanted to walk with me on the final stretch of the towpath down to St. Mullins, and it was great to have her company. We chatted, stopped to photograph some damselflies and admire some of the beautiful cottages along the river, and when we finally got into our stride, walked far quicker that I was used to – arriving in St. Mullins in no time at all. The river at St. Mullins is tidal, and when we arrived the tide was exceptionally high, so high in fact that we had to wide through water along the very last section of the path getting our feet (and in my case, boots) wet. That I walked over 130km along a waterway and stayed dry, yet managed to get my feet wet in the last kilometer probably has some significance, but if it does, it was lost on me!

So I spent six wonderful days walking the Barrow Line then the Barrow Towpath, seeing the route at its best in glorious weather. In the six days I covered 133km and traversed a good cross-section of the east of Ireland, through beautiful landscapes rich in heritage, both built and natural. I experienced at first hand the wonderful amenity of the Barrow Track and had plenty of time to think about the merits of the development proposed by Waterways Ireland.

High tide at St. Mullins

There can be no doubt but the Barrow path is a wonderful amenity and one that should be cherished. Investing in it so that the experience of users can be enhanced is a good thing to do, and should be commended and supported. God knows we need more, not less, investment in Ireland’s natural amenities. But that does not mean that any development or investment is automatically a good thing. My personal view is still that the removal of the grass towpath would be a terrible mistake for it is a special amenity and would potentially lead to environmental degradation. However,  I think that a cycleway should be developed as far as Athy, but segregated from walkers by using the existing farm tracks and narrow roads rather than the grass track. The route then from Athy to St. Mullins should be developed and promoted for walking and other river-based activities that would enhance the unique experience of the amenity. Now that would make for a wonderful use of an amenity that could accommodate different interests, without any one use dominating the others.

I really hope that when the merits of the proposed development are being adjudicated upon by decision-makers that the views of all the different sectors are taken seriously, and that the existing non-monetary benefits of the amenity are properly recognised. For if the wrong decision is made, there will be no turning back.

A 133km walk along the Barrow Track – I enjoyed that!

Day 5: Bagenalstown to Clashganny (25km)

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Slyduff, one of the many picturesque lock gates

Today’s walk takes me into familiar territory. I live in Gowran no more than about 6km from the Barrow, so I visit the river often. It is a fantastic amenity to have so close at hand. It is rich in wildlife and I try to make good use of it, as do the family. The walk from Bagenalstown to Clashganny, a distance of 25km, covers perhaps the most beautiful and special part of the Barrow. Along this stretch there are six lock gates in the most magical, peaceful setting, an impressive five-arch railway bridge spanning the river south of Bagenalstown, and beautiful valerian-covered stone arch road bridges at Goresbridge and Ballyteigelea. Sitting under the towering railway bridge watching grey wagtails feeding their young and listening to swifts screaming overhead was a special treat.

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The railway bridge at Bagenalstown

The main river channel is nice and broad but for much of the time the towpath follows narrow channels leading to the lock gates, giving the appearance of a sluggish canal. The still water of the canalised sections interspersed with the fast flowing rapids provide variety to the river structure which in turn supports increased biological diversity.  This is kingfisher territory, so almost every visit is rewarded with a glimpse of these magnificent birds plying the river.

As the river flows south the valley steepens and the slopes become more wooded. South of Ballyteigelea Bridge the river flows past the magnificent deciduous woodland of Borris Demesne. This is my favourite part of the river as it supports many biodiversity treasures. The beautiful scalloped-winged comma, one Ireland’s newest butterfly arrivals, is now commonly seen here. Purple Hairstreak also breed on the canopies of the oak trees along this stretch, but despite my best efforts, I have yet to find them. The garrulous Jays call from the woodland, and most recently Great-spotted Woodpecker have taken up residence here. Today they were silent, but when walking the path last weekend with my brother Seán, he picked out the harsh kik-kik call, a delightful find. I can’t wait to visit next spring to hear the woodland resonate with the sound of their drumming.

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The Barrow River at Borris is a really special place

As it was a Saturday, the river was much busier today. I met many people walking and cycling the towpath, there were fishermen (yes they were all men!) at regular intervals, and saw boats, kayaks and canoes on the river. A group of about half dozen kayakers joined me for lunch at one of the lock gates, and kindly shared their picnic with me. We kept pace with each other for the rest of the day, for although they paddled quicker than I walked, their progress was slowed by hauling out the kayaks at each set of lock gates as they did not wish to run the rapids.

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Along the river there is a great sense of community

Walking the towpath, chatting to people as you go, you get the sense of being part of a community with one thing in common – an affinity for the river. You get the sense that this is their river, and that it means a great deal to them. Unsurprisingly the topic of resurfacing the towpath comes up on even the briefest of chats. What surprised me greatly was that everyone I spoke to, without exception, thought it was a bad idea. I had expected opinion to be mixed on this, but no, everyone gave out about it. What became clear to me is that people who use the towpath are happy with the way it is, but it is those who see potential in exploiting the towpath for business benefit, that want to resurface it.

Beautiful demoiselle
Beautiful Demoiselle

It is very disappointing that this community of users don’t appear to have a voice that is listened to. They don’t ask for much, no grandiose plans, just leaving the amenity as it is. I find it sad (actually it makes me quite angry) that people who appreciate the non-monetary value of special places like the Barrow, have to aggressively fight to hold on to what they have or run the risk of losing it. The exact same issue applies to nature conservation, a topic close to my heart.  Everywhere it seems, is the move toward commodification of wild places; if it doesn’t fall on the right side of the balance sheet, it doesn’t count.