The ground was soft and comfy. There wasn’t any rain. Two beers was too much to handle for my bladder. (Anyone notice the proper grammar regarding two, to, too?) I got up the first time around midnight. When I got back in the tent, I felt something biting my temple (not THE Temple, my foreheadish one). I kept smacking it until it stopped. I must have gone too close to the building and walked into a spider web, but I eventually killed whatever was biting me.
The second time I got up was at 5:30. It was light. The second I stuck my feet out of the tent, I felt pricks on my legs. (Get your minds out of the gutter, I’m being serious here.) I did my business as quickly as possible and jumped back in the tent. This time I felt biting all over me. I hadn’t bothered to put on my glasses when I got up thinking that clear vision wakes me up. I put on my glasses.
Looking up at the top of the tent was like looking at a negative of the Milky Way. Every star was a black dot with the voids now being white. There was more dark than white. We were under a full scale midge attack and thousands of the little bitches (only the females bite, so i am using a proper expletive as well) had followed me back in.
I started clapping my hands to kill as many as possible. Bunny was protected during our first encounter in Scotland when I had nearly bled to death from all the bites. She had no idea what was happening or what to expect. I was having a full blown PTSD midge flashback. She told me to quit moving around so much and to go back to sleep, “they won’t kill you.” Oh, sweet blissful, ignorant Bunny.
She finally stuck her head out from under the blanket to belittle me for being a baby. They swarmed her head and face. She joined me in the applause of “death to midges”, but it was too little too late. She said we need to go inside and have breakfast. I disagreed. We’ve killed enough of them to be able to pack up everything in the tent first and then head inside. We were a precision team of packers.
Inside, we had a few moments to formulate an escape plan while we ate. Bunny’s first response was “is it always like this here?” Shit, this is going to cost me another night inside. I told her to go ahead and find a place in Waterville for tonight, then we’ll go grab everything and bring it up to the blacktop to pack up. While she was making the reservations for a B&B in Waterville, she also checked the weather. The rain is supposed to start between 7 &8.
We had eaten, packed, put on rain gear, and started hiking before 7:30. The packing was miserable. Even in the parking lot, the midges swarmed us. Bunny started to have a meltdown. I couldn’t resist. I told her to calm down “they won’t kill you” thinking her own words might calm her. My swollen lip said differently.
The rain started at 7:31 before we made our first turn off of the road onto a track. Bunny just kept repeating “is it always like this here?” I said we’ve already got a place for tonight. Maybe we can get a place for a night or two in Kenmare in a couple of days. This gave her the freedom to realize we were going fast uphill so she could switch into granny-slow, uphill, Everest drive.
Now we had to endure wet grass filled with spider webs. I’m sure the webs have been there all along, but the mist was sticking to the silk showing just how outnumbered we were. We have already suffered midges, rain, wet grass, and spiders. Bunny was ready to quit until we were saved by an unexpected trio.
Three donkeys were in the far edge of the field. As soon as they saw us, they started heading our way. They obviously liked people and attention. I got them all to come up to me and let me pet them. Bunny filmed it for our grandson to add to her barnyard animal series. When she was done filming, she wanted to pet them. All of her misery was temporarily forgotten. If only a bunny rabbit had hopped up to her at this moment, Ireland would become the greatest spot on earth once again.
It didn’t take long for the misery to return. We started climbing again and were swarmed by black flies. These were of Amityville proportion. It could mean one of two things: 1) something dead was nearby, or 2) cows were in the area. Black flies love cows and their output. The misery their crap causes me on the trail makes me taunt them when I see them. “I’m looking forward to having you ground up on my plate, soon.” They are the most disgusting of all barnyard animals and I hate them in all forms except for steaks and hamburgers.
We were able to outrun the flies by climbing above them. Or maybe it was the rain starting again that knocked them out of the air. I didn’t care as long as they were gone. By the time we gained the ridge, the wind was blowing strong enough that flies were no longer a bother. The waist high ferns and grass were soaked which, in turn, soaked our pants and filled our shoes with water. This was turning into a pretty miserable walk.
The rain started breaking up and the sun even came out. Things were looking better. We decided to have a break and a snack. We could see Waterville ahead and below us. There was less than 3 miles between us and rescue. We would make it, get our laundry done, and sleep in a bed tonight. Just a few more miles and we were saved.
Whack a mole! Everyone knows the game. We had to endure about a mile long version of the game in reverse. In the standard game, you have 8 holes and a mole will pop up out of one hole and you have to hit it to get it to go back down. In our version, which was through another series of cow fields, we had 7 cow pies out of 8 spots and you tried to find the one spot to step without sinking up to your ankle. The odds were against us.
We made it to the other side with only minor slippage. It looked like we were going to make it. All this, and it wasn’t even noon yet. We dropped down off the mountain for a mile and a half road walk into town. The sun allowed us to dry out as we walked on dry pavement vs the wet plants from the “don’t whack a pie” game. We saw civilization in the form of an ice cream cone outside of a shop. Even I let a small tear slide down my cheek.
First thing, as always when coming into a town—lunch. Something strange for us on this trip…we had a variety of choices. I ruled out all the seafood places. Bunny ruled out nothing. After the 3rd trip up and down the strip, I made a command decision. Once we headed in, then we had a choice of seating areas: out back, on the busy side, on the quiet side, in the bar area. Too many choices. I chose the place, so Bunny chose the seat—right where we were at so we didn’t have to walk any further.
Waterside is semi-famous for an Adolf Hitler lookalike that used to vacation here. We did our shopping and bought some ice cream before heading to the Charlie Chaplin statue via the seashore.
The main reason we booked the B&B was because they had agreed to do our laundry. After 6 days, it was badly needed. While the hostess did our laundry, we cleaned up all the other smelly parts. Between nights on the trail with pub food yo supplement. We just wanted some simple, greasy food. We headed to the grocery store for a pizza. Most grocery stores have dining areas inside or at least a couple of tables outside for customers to sit at. Eating out gets quite expensive and is our single largest cost of the trip.
EFG