Finishing the Dingle Way

I finished the Dingle Way on Thursday afternoon after a very long walk along Ireland's longest stretch of beach, from Cloghane to Castlegregory, which was just under 20 miles. My feet happily welcomed the cushy sand surface after all of the road walking and I did a bit of it barefoot, trying to avoid getting my shoes wet and to let my feet breathe (they ended up developing rather painful blisters and were almost feeling bruised from the pavement pounding and the weight of my backpack).

The day before I walked from Ballydavid to Cloghane, a walk which turned out to be by far the most difficult. This was a very mountainous walk with steep ascents and descents, traversing around Mount Brandon. The most difficult part was the descent which was quite muddy and with my backpack any wrong step threw me off balance causing me to slip many times. Eventually I just slid down the slippery parts on my butt and became covered in mud.

All the while a stray dog was with me, started following me in Ballydavid and stayed with me for over ten miles. It was a small dog about the size of a fox, very friendly, except when I kept falling and there were no sheep to chase it started to nip at my ankles and bark at me. This of course completely freaked me out and seeing that there was no one around I imagined how this dog could completely maul me if it wanted to. Of course it was harmless but it's amazing how quickly cute little dogs can turn into threatening predators! I began singing Sound of Music songs at the top of my lungs to give the impression to the dog that I was not weak prey and to keep my spirits up during what seemed like an endless downward trail into nothing. I could see no towns, no people, no roads, nothing.

I did have amazing views on top of the cliffs and the sea all around of what looked like an enchanted land. Anyway, I made it to Brandon and began looking for a B&B to rest my weary self and discovered that there was no accomodation until the next town, Cloghane, which was only a mile away. (It was here that the little dog and I parted ways--I walked into a pub to ask a question and when I came back out it was gone. I was a little relieved but also a bit sad because I really did enjoy it's company.) Well, five miles later (everything seems to be a mile away) in Colghane, at about 9pm, I found a B&B and the woman running the place was kind enough to phone one of the two pubs that was serving food for a few more minutes and asked them to make me something when I got there. But she said I'd have to go over straight away.

So I went in my muddy and ripped rainpants and ordered a burger. There were 2 people sitting in the pub, an American woman and a Belgian man, that invited me to sit and eat with them. As I sat down I was thinking how I hadn't stretched yet and how much pain I would be in once my body cooled down and settled in. My pants had ripped in the knees from falling on rocks. I find it rather amazing that after all of that, all I got were some minor bruises and scrapes. I still have a couple of thorns to get out of my fingertips. Anyway, these two had met in Dingle and were walking the way together. She was getting her luggage carted from one place to the next in a van, something that most people walking the way do. They were both going back to their respective homes the next day. It was nice getting to chat with people after such a crazy day and found it a bit odd that this was the first American I had come across the entire time I'd been in Ireland. It was comforting to hear an American accent but at the same time I found her a bit strange--I think I had gotten used to speaking to people with accents and broken English. She offered to drop off her extra Odwalla bars in the morning before she left.

The next day I took a rest, almost fearful of how my body was going to take the day before. A rest was just what I needed because the next day I felt almost as good as new--the only thing bothering me were my blisters--that and I was beginning to worry that I was getting too much sun. It wasn't exactly sunny but I guess the salt air and wind and all that it can be like being under a magnifying glass. My lips were beginning to burn when I drank tea.

When I finally got to Castlegregory (and I admit I cheated a bit, I got a ride the last 5 miles from a Belgian kite-surfing instructor that probably felt sorry for me as I walked along the busy road with rain and wind whipping me around), I again decided to treat myself to a B&B and found that a Dutch student and an older Dutch couple that had started the way the same day as I had and who I'd seen off and on walking almost the entire time were staying at the B&B as well. An American couple from NY that I hadn't met had just finished too. They were all planning to go out to eat and celebrate finishing the walk and invited me along. (And actually, according to my book, the walk takes you back to Tralee, the town where the walk officially begins, but for the most part everyone seemed done at Castlegregory, 17 miles from Tralee.) We had a marvelous time and I learned of many other great walks from the American couple, in their late 50s, who do a two-week walk every summer for their vacation. They recommended a walk in the Dolomites that takes you to Venice that sounded awesome. I told everyone about the dog that followed me and the NY couple said that the same dog followed them for a while and they named it Fritz. The older Dutch couple was very lively, friendly, and energetic company and the man took pictures of the whole evening, getting up on benches at the pub for some great shots. Perhaps I can post some when he emails them to me.

Luckily enough on Fridays there is a bus from Castlegregory to Tralee where I needed to catch another bus to Limerick to pick up my suitcase and then another bus to Gort where I'd be doing the pet-sitting. Getting on the bus there popped up the Dutch mother and her two daughters. We were all excited to see each other and they said they had been talking about me and wondering what had happened to me because they hadn't seen me in a while. We got all caught up on the walk and the things we did. I told them about the dog and the Dutch woman said that her friends that did the Dingle Way two years ago had the same experience, that the dog followed them the entire way! I showed her a picture of the dog on my camera and she said it was the same dog. It is the Dingle Dog.

We all parted at the bus station, the Dutch student headed to Cork for his flight home, I to Limerick and the rest were staying in Tralee for the night before returning home. It was a bit sad for everyone to think that the walk was over and we had to go back to civilization. There is such simplicity in walking day to day from place to place. It brings your life down to the essentials, to what is true and real. And the people you meet are in the same mindset, surrounded by nature day in day out and are stripped to what is essentially human. No distractions, for the most part, just living truly human. You really start to feel like your best self, your most alive self doing this. It can be addicting. You can be in total isolation with never having felt more connected to people. It's odd. But I'm sure anyone that has spent time in nature and the wilderness knows what I'm talking about. It is very peaceful and you have very little fear of what is to come or what has come before. You are very much in the present. This has been quite a contrast to my little urban encounters that I had before arriving in Ireland.

Well, now I'm beginning my first pet-sitting operation and will give a more detailed post perhaps tomorrow. Need to round the chickens up and make sure the rabbits and guinea pigs are safe and sound....