The Skelligs are rocky islands off the coast of County Kerry in Ireland. The smaller one is now a bird sanctuary, where people are no longer allowed to go. The larger one is Skellig Michael, an old Celtic monastery. It was probably founded in the 7th century, and occupied for centuries by a group of probably 13 monks, seeking solitude on the remote and rocky island. They lived in beehive shaped huts built using dry-wall type building methods – the huts are very well preserved, and are still around today.

The monks eventually left to join the mainland monks, and this became a place for pilgrimage, and then just a place for a lighthouse, before becoming a tourist destination and UNESCO World Heritage site (and in general a pretty cool place).

Carrauntoohil (1038 metres) is Ireland’s highest mountain. At about half the height of Kosciusko, at least it’s a bit more of a challenge to hike up it. Well I thought so until I saw the sheep wandering round at the summit.

While in Dublin we got a tour around the wonders of Trinity College (including the Book of Kells, and the enormous library that lives with it, and the skeleton of the enormous and extinct Irish Deer, which looks suspiciously like a moose) thanks to Lil (who has excellent tour-guiding skills, thanks Lil!).

Thanks to my fingers I didn’t get much sleep last night. We’re cycling uninspiring industrial coastal road into Chitose though, so I don’t feel too bad about the fact that all I can think of is my fingers. On the way we stop at a pharmacy and mange to get a mild steroid cream for me. It doesn’t help much.

We set up in a campground in urban Chitose, then try to find some more medical help. We end up at a pharmacy with a girl who phones her English teacher, who comes to the pharmacy to try and help. They are all lovely, and I go away with a numbing cream of some sort, which also doesn’t help. Tomorrow we’ll try the hospital.

Another night of not enough sleep thanks to fingers, and I spend all morning in search of, and at, the hospital. I come away with drained blisters, a stronger steroid cream, cotton gloves, and some lovely strong pain killers. We find some food in the city, I take my first pain killer, then we set off to the airport. I start slurring my words, and concentrate very hard on cycling.

As we arrive at Chitose Airport we say goodbye to the Boy, who keeps cycling south through the rest of Japan. We sit packing away our bikes into the Tardis bags, and our panniers into our low-rent stripy plastic bags, which are rapidly disintegrating. Check-in is fine (no excess luggage hurrah – we’re flying JAL, but through the oneworld Japan tickets), mosburger for dinner is tasty (my ‘bun’ consists of a fried rice patty, oh the tastiness), and the flight goes fine, spitting us out at Tokyo Haneda airport just as it is closing for the night. We can’t get to Narita tonight, but we need to be there first thing in the morning. It’s nearly midnight, and it seems pointless to try and sleep for the night. We store our luggage in lockers at a train station, and go wandering round central Tokyo.

Distance cycled 15th: 109km
Distance cycled 16th: 26km
Trip total: 1398km
Location: Shizunai – Chitose – Tokyo

We leave the campground with a tailwind behind us. It has been blowing steadily all night, so all our things are dry, and even our bike shoes don’t saturate our socks as soon as we put them on.

The coast road out to Cape Erimo gives us a windy tailwind, which gets windier and windier – by the time we reach the Cape it’s hard to stand. After a struggle we escape with our bikes and some photos, and cycle away down the other side of the Cape, into a crosswind. We lean into it to stay upright, and as it gusts we waver around all over the place, struggling to stay upright. Cars sensibly give us a wide berth, and after a few kilometres of this, the wind starts to ease off.

We spend the rest of the day cycling through small fishing towns along the coast. Lots of gravel beds for kelp drying, and men stand in the surf with long poles with hooks on the end for grabbing kelp. Fishmermen with big square backpacks sit by the roadside waiting for the fisherman bus.

It rains on and off all day, but never sets in, so we stay dry. I see a fox trotting across the road, and he stands to stare at me as I struggle up the hill towards him. It’s around this time that my fingers start hurting again. The prickly heat on the back of my fingers, acquired about two weeks ago, never really healed – now it’s forming enormous mega-blisters and swelling up so much that my fingers won’t bend.

Our camp that night has bear caution tape, and a huge group of drunken Japanese guys who are playing ball games and yelling. One comes to talk to me – I learn the Japanese word for drunk.

Distance cycled: 100km
Trip total: 1264km
Location: Cape Erimo – Shizunai Onsen