News from London, part I

The last couple of weeks or so have been quite a mixed bag. I was waiting to write something in Ireland until I had done some things worth writing about, but then the internet connection went down and stayed down the rest of my stay, not that it was that eventful, still.

In Kinvarra:
After getting up my nerve to walk the busy road, I went to a pub in town to listen to a music session, something that western Ireland is quite famous for, and ended up talking to some of the locals until 2am, one of whom claimed to be the best fiddler in Ireland (and his friends affirmed this). Needless to say, I may've also gotten a snippet of what I later learned was quite common in town, alcoholism that runs rampant. The fiddler said he'd been drunk for three days. Yikes! I don't think I'd ever been out this late in Ireland before and experienced firsthand a lockdown--at 12:30, the legal closing time, they lock the doors and pull the curtains so that police think the pub is closed. If you want to leave, you are locked out for the rest of the night and you are unable to visit another pub (unless you have a friend at the door to let you in). Anyway, I called a taxi to take me back to the chicken ranch and as we were driving down that scary road I saw how completely pitch black it got at night and could not see anything! I did not leave any lights on and prayed that I would be able to find the house. I made a lucky guess, asked the cab driver to pull into a driveway, and it thank the lord was the right home. I will say that it was not just paranoia that kept me off that road, but gut instinct to keep me protected--that weekend, which was a very popular weekend to be out due to the Galway horse races and the fact that most people were on holiday the week before and the week after, three people were hit walking the roads. Most likely in the dark and drunk, but still, it happens. I never ended up riding the bike. Too scared.

Besides taking in my solitude and almost going completely batty by the end from the isolation, I also went to a banquet at the medieval castle in town. I wouldn't recommend it and would most likely never do it again. Although it was cool to be inside the castle and hear some poetry and harp music, I think live jousting at Medieval Times outside of Chicago might be more worth the money. The place was full with an American tour group anyway, so I might as well have been in American suburbia. The mead was nice, though. When it was through, I once again was going to take a cab, but when I found out it was going to be two hours one of the actors from the show offered to give me a ride. This time I had left lots of lights on and was able to find it. Those country roads....

So I think I waited out the rest of the week, oh, had lunch with the neighbors which was a little bit awkward. I felt the need to prove to them that I was completely fine at the house so that they would stop coming over to check up on me (they were literally coming into the house calling for me and at one point I hid in the bathroom--it was just getting too weird--and I started locking the door if I was inside). So either I was talking rather loudly and nervously or the mother was talking and most everyone else was silent. One of the sons sat on the couch when he was done eating and started listening to his iPod.

Later that week when the husband and wife (I'm almost tempted to call them the Piggys since that is what they call each other) returned they were truly stunned at their neighbors' behavior because they probably see them once a year! Anyway, I was very happy to see them--they were concerned wondering if I had cabin fever and I almost wanted to cry as I said, a little bit. The next day, the wife took me to the Shannon airport where I flew to Glasgow, Scotland (I thought it was best to depart from Ireland at this point). I was going to walk the West Highland Way, a 95-mile walk in the Scottish Highlands, from Glasgow to Fort William, before setting out for London. The wife was very sweet and sent me off with fruit and egg salad sandwiches, made with freshly-laid eggs, of course. I was a bit sad to leave the Irish couple and still hear the husband calling their dog Barney a spastic and window-licker and the wife telling me to pay no attention to her husband and would I like anything more to eat?

In Scotland:
So after a very rough start trying to get set up in Milngavie (6 miles north of Glasgow), the point of departure for this walk, where there was absolutely no place to stay and I found myself in a pub asking to use a phonebook with a bunch of drunkards telling me I am completely insane to try and walk the West Highland Way with no accomodations booked and no tent and no proper shoes, etc., that in some places the closest hospital is 50 miles away! Had I ever heard of midges? You're going to walk ALONE? What? You were in Ireland on an archaelogical dig? (The Dingle Way.) I will admit though that I was starting to doubt myself. I had no place to stay, had no information on the West Highland Way yet than what I had read on the undiscoveredscotland website. A quiet man at the bar gave me the name of a hotel to call, that I could get a taxi, it was close. Sure enough, they had vacancies at this hotel. And when I got there, I found out an Indian restaurant and a club that stays open and bumping until 3am that I could have free entry into if I so chose. So I had an awful night's sleep and found the whole place rather creepy (men with shaved eyebrows?) but the best part of it was the taxi ride over. I was telling the taxi driver my plans, but that I may need to change them and told him what the men at the pub were saying (one of them did own and run the shop across the street that outifts walkers and prepares people for the WHW, so they weren't all completely clueless morons). He said, what? Are you going to let a bunch of drunks at a pub disway you from doing what you set out to do? And then went on to tell me about his son's experience walking the WHW and how he plans to do it someday himself. It was all very reassuring and kind. But it also made me think, yeah, since when did I start taking advice from drunks in pubs? Listen to your gut!

So, I set out the next day on the West Highland Way. It was to be 7 days of walking, from one little Scottish village to the next. This time I had some new socks, however, and found that old socks were most likely the reason for my horrible blisters in Ireland. This time the only blister problems occurred at the end of the walk and were the same old blisters from before that hadn't gone away yet. There was a great group of people from all over that were on the same schedule as I and at the end of the day there was always a pub where everyone gathered to eat a good meal and have a pint. The scenery was fantastic. The walking was great, challenging only in a few places, but very well laid out and maintained and not much road-walking at all, my main complaint of the Dingle Way. There was a point near Glencoe (more Chicago suburbs) that was comparable I'd say to some places in Glacier National Park, the mountains are majestic, dramatic, heavenly. They truly can take your breath away. To feel like just a speck in the whole of things is such an awesome feeling. The one thing I'd recommend, if anyone is considering this walk, is to not go in August. The midges (insects that are like flying fleas that leave bites that swell up and ooze and itch like crazy) were horrendous in some places, you have to use skin-so-soft and wear a face net--both of which I did not have on me when they first descended and thus have about thirty itchy bites on my legs and arms and cheeks (luckily the bites on my face have not itched or oozed). Anyway, the midges are to be taken seriously and this was the worst time to be around them. There were warnings on windows and doors to not let the midges in--they would travel around in swarms. And some walkers that were camping had the worst of it--they would go into their tents to find them lined with midges, a black film covering the entire interior. Another reason to not go in August is that this is vacation time for the entire continent and hostels were packed (snoring!!!) and sometimes it was hard to get a bed for a decent price. Again, a lot of people were having their bags taken from village to village for a small fee, which would've made things easier, but some of us trucked it along--including a 50+ Danish priest who'd walked the Camino to Santiago in Spain 4 times. Anyway, I greatly enjoyed my time in Scotland, I'd love to spend more time there, there is so much to see! And there are many more walks to do. But it was time to head to the bustling city of London to begin my next pet-sit.