The Getaway
I’ve had to stop saying ‘day 1’ or ‘day 10’ etc as I have no idea what number we are on as both Mel and I have lost track of the days. The only thing we do know is that going home is creeping ever closer and we don’t want to leave Ireland.
I do know that it was Sunday, and it was raining. So we settled in for the evening and slept soundly through the night.
The following day, we decided to hike up one of the local mountains – Cruachan. We have played around with the pronunciation and the choices are cru-achan or crackon. We believe it is the latter but don’t have any proof.
Anyway, the local map said it was a 3 hour round trip and that seemed a good fit for us as we haven’t done much serious hiking recently. The weather was lovely and for once I thought we had prepared appropriately. We packed waterproof trousers, waterproof ponchos, some money, power bank, crisps, chocolate, water, and fruit and we had appropriate footwear on. We also took our walking poles.
I in particular was feeling quite smug about our preparedness until about 10 minutes after we left when I realised I hadn’t put my knee support on. Nor had I remembered the ibuprofen gel. Mel suggested we go back to collect them but there was no way I was going to add another 20 minutes (10 there and 10 back) to the journey.
We did notice that the first part of the walk on the lane was downhill which meant the last bit of the walk, when we are exhausted will be uphill. We tried to ignore this.
Before long, we left the lane and start walking uphill along a track and the going was good. Mel was unhappy about the poor quality of the local blackberry crop, but we forged on. The track narrowed and we had to walk single file. When we walk the person in front has to announce warnings of any danger which faced us. These include warnings about brambles, gorse, rocks, and special branches. Any branches which could flick into the person behind are high up the list for danger. However, in Mel’s hunt for blackberries, she seemed to forget to warn me very often which meant I faced great peril and came home with serious gashes (ok, they were small scratches) which hurt. Part of me wonders if Mel was secretly smiling.
The path then turned in to a raging river (take that as stream) as the water was coming off the mountains and we spent a lot of time balancing on rocks, jumping rapids, climbing along the banks, and praying our feet didn’t get wet.
Although I was using an app to guide us, I hadn’t been sensible and downloaded the route and typically, at the time we needed guidance most, we didn’t have a signal. Therefore, we went wrong and ended up in the middle of a forest in even more water. We turned around and managed to get ourselves on the correct route by chance. Once we were out in the open again, the signal returned.
Just going off track a bit – the signal in Ireland seems to be better than in Surrey and I will now feel like a second-class citizen when back at home as most areas here have 5g. Even at the top of the mountain, there was 5g. At work, my phone predominately says ‘E’. The only place where signal was bad on this thrip was on this site and I don’t know why as it had 4g.
Back to the walk. We continued up the mountain and the path widened, and we got slower. We realised that we have never hiked for 3 miles solely uphill without any respite downhill slopes to help with breathing. We were overtaken by a young family (in trainers – hee hee hee) and felt old.
Eventually, we could see the summit and after trying to take a shorter route – and failing, we took a gentler route to the top. The views were amazing. A complete 360 degrees of mountains and sea. As with so many high points here, there was a cross at the top and we showed due reverence before we left. The wind was so intense that we only managed a couple of photos before we had to descend as it was hard to stand up.
By now we had been walking for 2 ¾ hours and the map had said 3 hour round trip. Who did they time? Mo Farrah? Rory? Either way, the map clearly lied.
Once out of the wind, we found a log to perch on and quickly ate some grub. By now my knee was really complaining and the thought of a long downhill traipse was not impressing me. But downhill we went. Mel warned me about the alligators and bears as they must be around as there was so much animal poo on the ground. It was impossible not to walk in it but fortunately, we knew we had the running stream to get through and so our boots would be washed clean.
We made it back to the lane safely other than me acquiring more scratches thanks to Mel and remembered that the last half mile was uphill. I always struggle with the final mile of a walk and Mel was subjected to my constant moaning but still managed to smile sweetly at me. We succeeded to make it back to Ethel safely and felt a bit pleased with ourselves.
After a lovely cuppa, Mel headed to the showers and seemed to be gone for such a long time that I wondered if I should check if she was ok. But she appeared safely and announced that the showers were the best ever. Better than any other we have used on a site. I felt she must be over tired as no shower is that good and went off to investigate. I didn’t want to get out. They were amazing. They had one of those rain head things and all of you got wet at the same time – not just your little toe. And they were hot. And they were free. Lots of sites in Ireland make you pay extra for showers which explains why Mel and I smelled a bit ripe on some days.
The next day, I headed for a shower early and with excitement. Whilst the shower was once again fantastic, there was a slight problem – although not due to the specific workings of the shower itself. Along with the rain head, the shower also had a normal head on a pipe (technical term) which could be removed for rinsing purposes I presume. I switched this bit on and water shot out at high speed and drenched my clothes. The person before me had left it at a stupid angle. Although not impressed, it didn’t detract from the amazingness of the showering experience.
We called a taxi to take us into Dungarvan which was the local town and after a longer than promised wait, it duly arrived. He wasn’t as chatty as the driver we had last week but he made up for it by driving as fast as he possibly could down the tight lanes and around hair pin corners. Mel hung on for her life and I made a commitment to only look out of the side window as this ensured I wouldn’t see my impending death. Stupidly, we used him for the trip home and the formula 1 drive was accompanied by him singing an Annie Lennox song ‘walking on breaking glass’ out of tune happily. It certainly wasn’t soothing!
Dungarvan was lovely and we had a good meal in a pub which clearly thought we needed fattening up. We also had a communication issue where the waiter apparently asked what drinks we wanted but he could have been saying ‘what colour socks do you have on’. This then made me wonder if they find it hard to understand us. I quickly realised this was a silly question as we speak the queens/kings English (not sure what the correct wording is now that Charlie boy is on the throne now).
Once back in Ethel, we hunkered down in preparation for Storm Agnes. She was due to hit Ireland in the night and we needed to be ready.
And storm Agnes did hit – like a sledgehammer. Mel’s daughter Lou had been scaremongering at us all week by basically telling us Ireland was going to sink but we didn’t take much notice really – maybe we should have!
Rain fell heavily, threatening to drown us and the wind rocked us back and forth. We were due to travel to our next (and final ☹) site today but it wasn’t safe to drive so we opted to stay put for another night – and another 30 euros. But there wasn’t a choice as the wind was insane. Mel had to lie down as she was feeling seasick – this is true – I am not making it up. It was so much like a boat; she started feeling ill.
By late afternoon, it was moving away to the UK, and we could finally relax. Tomorrow – a day late – we are moving on.
2LadiesTravelling 