Traveller, there is no path

Traveller, your footprints are the path
And nothing more;
Traveller, there is no path,
The path is made by walking.

- Antonio Machado

Backblip. A long day today — we set of at ten to ten from chez freespiral, and arrived in Durrus after 5 pm. It had rained in the early hours — first rain we’ve had! — and it was “a soft day”. We didn’t get rained on, but the vegetation was wet and due to a bad clothing choice on my part (long trousers, the short ones having been abandoned due to sunburn on day one), I was soon soaked from the knees down. It wasn’t cold though, in fact it was quite pleasant walking conditions, apart from the steamy humidity. Cork people always seem to be happy with the weather conditions. “Lovely day for a walk,” said the only people we met, a couple out walking their dogs, while we glowed gently. People were saying the same when it was hot enough to melt the tarmac. I like that attitude to life. And the rain seems to have put paid to the hay fever that’s been tormenting me for the last couple of days. No more sneezing!

There was quite a lot of beating about the bush, with the path wiggling and winding around, sometimes doubling back on itself. And oh, the fecking stiles, as they came to be known. There are scores of them and most are tall ladder constructions over walls or fences, reaching head height. At some points the path is, er, a bit overgrown, as you can see. If you zoom and look really closely, you may see the top of a yellow waymarker to the left of S’s left elbow. That was the only indication of where the path was. Towards the end of the day we met some stubborn cows and bullocks that wouldn’t move and had to carefully detour round them. Extra: a tiny and very pretty orchid.

Stats: 13.5 km, 210 m climbing, 7 hours 10 minutes including the now traditional post-lunch forty winks.

We are staying over the Longboat bar in Durrus. It’s the only place that hasn’t lived up to expectations. On arrival we made a cup of tea to revive ourselves, and then I headed for the shower. Several minutes’ fiddling produced only cold water and in the end, desperate to freshen up, I just accepted it, as did S. When we queried it with the landlord later, he said, “Oh, I only switch it on in the mornings because that’s when most people have a shower.” ???

Breakfast is a self-service affair, make your own toast and instant coffee and get juice, milk etc out of the fridge. If the place was dirt cheap it would be understandable, but we’re paying the same as for Bridge View in Kilcrohane, which I would recommend to anyone and where the copious breakfast is cooked for you, to order. Still, it’s quiet (no-one else staying here) and the bed is comfortable. The bar doesn’t do food so we crossed the road to the pub opposite for big plates of fish and chips. By then we were so tired we just went to bed.