Contact — Penelope Janu

On the Road Again

After an excellent sleep (more on that later) we started our journey bright of eye and bushy of tail, walking along country lanes and through farm fields reminiscent of our 2016 hike from the west to the east coast of England. The clouds were grey but high as we started our journey - by midday the rain had set in. A mist. A drizzle. A sprinkle.

Until it wasn’t.

We’re all familiar with the expression, ‘the rain fell gently like pinpricks on my skin’ (or words to that effect) - the rain on Day 3 was nothing like this. Initially, the rain came from behind, and the push of the breeze at our backs wasn’t at all unwelcome (much as the moisture accompanying the breeze dripped down our legs to puddle in our boots). Later, we were walking face first into the rain (if I wasn’t being so particular about where my feet should go - cow dung, bog, stream, rock, mud - I would have put my sunglasses on). Pinpricks? No! Darts? Yes!

The Highs

The scenery was beautiful. Green green fields, grey stone walls, mountainous hills dressed in red, peach and purple hues. We walked across grassy fields, climbing over numerous styles (some at peculiar angles) as we traversed Sugarloaf Mountain and other hills and dales, to finally walk down a long straight road to the pretty town of Dingle. There are many of seabirds here, and a bay and busy harbour to explore tomorrow.

You don’t give me flowers anymore … Mr Darcy did give me flowers, pointing them out as, wet and weary, I trudged past them in a muddy field. Given I’d recently snapped his head off for smiling at the beauty all around us, this was no doubt a peace-keeping gesture worthy of a UN acknowledgment. And it also made me think - how lovely that I’ve been presented with these flowers, yet others can continue to enjoy them too.

We found shelter from the rain at lunch time in a disused petrol station which we were extremely thankful for. What do we eat for lunch? After a Full Irish Breakfast (or some variation on that) we’re not too hungry, so generally cheese, biscuits, dried fruit and (as Mr Darcy - affectionately known by hiking companions as ‘the camel’ - carries multitude stores of water including a thermos or two) I also enjoy a cup of tea.

Mid journey, we came across Minard Castle which overlooks the ocean and a backdrop of mountains - quite spectacular. The now ruined castle was built in the 15th Century but destroyed by Cromwell’s forces in 1650. It’s situated on a beach of rocky pebbles and (before Cromwell …) would have been extremely happily situated.

The Lows

Well, it rained. Mr Collins quite annoyingly declared that he was thoroughly enjoying the change of scene the rain presented. ‘Bracing!’ ‘A challenge!’ ‘Look at that wet sheep!’ Mr Bingley and Mary heroically went in search of two of our missing party (surprisingly not Wickham and Lydia but our fleet-of-foot duo, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Kitty) after a group of Canadian hikers told Bingley and Mary that our companions had taken a wrong turn. All ended well, but we were disappointed with the Canadians. On the bright side, we’ve spent quite a lot of time pondering whether this bum steer was accidental or deliberate …

The In-betweens

My boots are sodden, but everyone else’s boots are sodden too, and misery does like company. How to dry said boots? Stuffing them with newspaper and paper towel was like mopping up a lake with a cotton ball, so today, our day in Dingle Town, we have taken to waving boots and other items of clothing out of the window and making judicious use of the hairdryer.

Dinner and accomodation

One positive aspect of walking all day is that you get to find a dinner venue at 6pm and can take advantage of the ‘early bird’ specials. We went to a very posh pub and had a delicious meal. Our B & B is very nice too - cosy yet comfortable (and it has a window ledge for the drying of boots)

Thoughts on Sleep

Darcy and I generally wake up at least once a night and ponder the worries of:

the world
our family
our careers
whether we’ve remembered to put the dishwasher on.

Hiking all day puts such worries to the back of our minds. Our bodies are weary and it’s nice to feel the weight of our limbs without having to require them to actually do anything (like walk). Even if we do need to get up to go to the loo, there’s no complaint about prostates or giving birth to six children, our nighttime thoughts are of the schooners of cider and pints of lager that were happily consumed over dinner.

Tomorrow we walk to Dunquin!