Backtracking in the Wicklow Mountains

Glendalough

Our path from Dublin to Kilkenny, our next home-from-home, crossed the Wicklow Mountains. I was hoping we’d have enough time to stop at Glendalough (the glen between two lakes) for a hike. It’s considered by many to be the most beautiful stretch of the 81-mile Wicklow Way walking path. But we spent more time on Bray Head than I’d expected and had a delicious, relaxing lunch in Enniskerry. Time had gotten away from us.

And something we learned at lunch threw a monkey wrench into what was left of our afternoon: We discovered in Enniskerry that our new favorite brewery, Wicklow Wolf Brewing, is located in Bray where we had just hiked the Head. Marcus and I looked at each other. “I guess we’ll have to go back,” he said. So after lunch, we retraced our steps to Bray to visit the brewery. We had a nice chat with one of the guys who works there, bought a T-shirt, then retraced our steps to Enniskerry and on to Glendalough.

We entered the valley from the south. The lush green foothills, with their peaceful pastures of cattle and sheep sloping upward to the mountains, reminded me of the picture-perfect valleys of Switzerland. As we headed deeper into the valley, the landscape became rockier and the vegetation sparse; it called to mind the high desert south of Reno, Nevada. And then we encountered the River Glencalo rushing over boulders past the ruins of a lead mine, and I thought of the Colorado Rockies.

The changing landscape of Glendalough is worth a trip in itself, but there are also ruins to explore. St. Kevin’s 6th-century monastic settlement and all the churches and related structures built in the ensuing centuries. I needed more time.

So we went back a few days later—a day trip from Kilkenny. We packed a lunch and climbed into the hills. It was a cold and blustery day down on the valley floor, but the sun shone and the two-and-a-half hour hike was warming. The trail took us 600 feet up a mountainside for excellent views of the valley below. Wonderful hike, amazing day!

Something we’ve learned from previous extended travel: There’s never enough time to do all the things on the itinerary. Choose the thing you’d most like to do at the moment, and enjoy it fully. And if there’s something you didn’t get to that you know you’ll regret missing, don’t hesitate to backtrack if you can. We may never pass this way again.

Till the cows come home

On our drive from Bray, on the coast, inland to Kilkenny we crossed sparsely populated farm country. On one backroad, traffic, such as it was, came to a standstill. We craned our necks to see what was going on that would create a traffic jam in rural County Wicklow. Cows. It was 4:30 in the afternoon, and the cows were coming home.

I remember encountering cows around this time of day on our journey through Yorkshire in England several years ago. The sun was creeping toward the horizon and the cows were getting antsy. They stood at the gate by the side of the road, calling to the farmer who appeared to be late fetching them. They didn’t need the farmer to tell them it was time to go home; they could feel it. Their bawling started off in a deep baritone, but rose to a soprano urgency. They hadn’t been milked since morning, and they wanted to get back to the barn for some relief. Now!

Some of these Wicklow ladies were so laden they could barely walk. A few stopped along the path, their udders swaying so heavily they were thrown off balance. I couldn’t watch. I felt their pain.

Eventually the herd made it across the road and traffic resumed. I couldn’t see the barn from the road, but I hoped, for their sakes, it was just around the corner.

Happy trails!

at home on the St. Lucie River

We are home again, and it feels so good to be here. We’re looking forward to a long, beautiful Florida winter in one place, with no suitcases to pack and unpack, pack and unpack, pack and unpack.

We don’t use our elevator much, but there are a few times when it comes in extremely handy, like when you have a broken leg (Marcus 2017) or a carload of luggage, crates, tote bags, and a very heavy cooler to get up to the second and third floors (the day we got home). No sweat! We put the first load of stuff into the elevator and pushed the button. Nothing happened. After several failed attempts to get it operational–and after a long day driving–Marcus eventually had to lug everything upstairs himself. Add to to-do list: call elevator repair guy.

We spent several hours digging in to our first phase of unpacking. Lots of sweat! The AC chugged and wheezed, but only managed to push out air just slightly cooler than the ambient air. “It will catch up,” Marcus assured me. Exhausted, I showered and went to bed. I was very much looking forward to sleeping in my own bed again, but I just couldn’t get comfortable. The AC still wasn’t performing up to snuff, and I don’t sleep well in a room over 70°F. It was a fitful night. The next day, Marcus waffled over whether we should pay the premium for a weekend service call. “Do it!” I told him. “It’s either that or pay twice as much for me to stay in a hotel this weekend.” Add to to-do list: call AC repair guy.

I was looking forward to driving my Cute Little Blue Car again, to catch up on some long-delayed errands. The garage door opened easily, but wouldn’t close again. After considerable jostling with the door, the sensor, and the remotes, Marcus got it to cooperate…until the next time we tried to close it. Add to to-do list: call garage door repair guy.

Apparently our house missed us these past six weeks. I suppose, now that it’s in its teen years, it’s getting sullen and irritable when we’re away for too long. Makes me a wee bit thoughtful about planning any more extended trips. *pause* Okay, I’m over it. I’m thinking about Ireland next spring…three months traveling the whole island, north and south. What do you think?

Giant’s Causeway, Northern Ireland

So, I need to get busy reading for the trip. Any good Irish literature you’d like to recommend? Send me an email.

And so, my friends, happy trails to you until we meet again–wherever the spinning compass may take us. Thanks for coming on this adventure. It was good to have you along.

Best~ Cindy

Under construction

We are home and planning our next adventure because the compass never stops spinning. Check out my Future Adventures tab to see some of the possibilities! I’d love your feedback and ideas.