Wicklow

September 3rd to 6th

In the afternoon I arrived at Dublin airport and took the transfer in to Dublin just to prepare for the next day. Nothing much happen, so let's just skip to the next day right away.

Day 2, September the 4th, was unfortunately a Sunday which means that the bus drivers of Dublin was out last night and need a couple of hours to organize their heads. When they all found the proper head and connected it to the nervous system without causing to much ache the buses start of and I ended up in Enniskerry at 10:30. On the way i was chatting with this amazing 83 year old bloke I met at the bus station, who also was about to take a walk in the wild. Amazing fella, with so much energy to share. He told me I was brave to take the trip I proposed.

I started of walking from Enniskerry in the northern Wicklow and headed southwest on the small country roads. Appropriately the song Take me home, Country road popped in to my head and we took a stroll on the wild side together.

The roads were sided with blackberries and beautiful thorned leafs. The view was just amazing as I passed Glaskenny and Knockree on my right side at about 11:15 and stayed there for a break with horses playing in the foreground. I reached the foot of Maulin at about 12:00 and sat on the parking for my first food break. There where a lot of fellow walkers at this parking, but most of them had left earlier and where now returning to their cars. The sun that had blessed me all morning had now gone hiding behind a soft rain but i was certain it would end soon enough. Also i was somewhat after my schedule but this didn't worry me right now. The view was just to beautiful.

Now I entered the forest and started climbing Maulin. I took the paths that took me the steepest up and soon enough I reached the end of the forest. The fog had increased all the way up, and now the sight was only to the closest summit on the other side of the valley. I still passed some wanderers who, as I, where amazed about the purple hillsides covered in Calluna.

There is something special about reaching a summit in Wicklow, maybe anywhere, but as I took the last step and could see the hilltops all around me there was very few other things that could reside in my mind. Not that I was 50 minutes after my schedule, not that it was raining and not that the wind made it hard to stand, even for me and my leaded walking boots. How can i justify this emotion in a picture?

I took the next bearing towards Tonduff North in the west and headed on. To this point I had regularly take pictures and written comments in a notepad, but the increasing wind and rain made this impossible for a couple of hours. After just some 10 minutes the sight range was below 50 meters which made the compass all the more important. By now I had even hidden the map away from the rain. Halfway to Tonduff North, in my calculations, had the water gone through the so called raincoat. The cottonpants had been soaked even before I climbed Maulin, so by now I was pretty cold. No time to stop and rest, just to push on! By Tonduff North I had planned to take a break but that didn't happen. It was impossible to find even the slightest of shelter from the wind and rain, besides in the eroded valleys that where around one and a half meters deep, filled with mud. This was no place to stay on, so I took a risk and picked up the map for a new course, this time I wanted to head for lower ground. The original plan was to hill jump, therefor avoiding the extra time and energy consumed by walking down a hill and then up the next, but the next hill side was further west, and I needed to get to Roundwood in the south by nightfall.

The next course was the between Djource and Laggula, which hopefully would get me beneath the clouds and the wind. Also this might get me to a road that hopefully could, with some spectacular view on the way, take me to Roundwood. Unfortunately I was still at the summit of Tonduff North, and this direction was straight against the wind. The sight range was below 20 meters now because of the fog, and with so much rain covering the sunglasses I put on it was almost impossible to locate myself with the map. So for about an hour I climbed down the mountain, solely looking at the compass for direction. It wasn't rare to be walking almost 90 degrees wrong suddenly, but when I got a bit lower the fog slowly faded away. Before me was about two hours of Calluna swamp.

The flatter it got, also the harder strangely enough. These beautiful colorful tussocks of purple or pink Calluna had grown strong, but in between it was half a meter down to mud. Therefor the easiest way to walk was to jump from bush to bush, and just hope you didn't fall through. The hill to the west I skipped is called Kippure, which I found myself yelling each time I fell in to the mud.

It had almost stopped rain when I got in height of Djource and in the distance I could see Laggula before what looked like blue sky. At this time water had been pouring from my body for almost two hours, so a bit of sun was were welcome. Before me I could see a pack of deer. They where skipping forth, as calmly but also as stately and nonchalant as the antelopes on the savanna. It looked so peaceful with their easy skips, always with a proud straight neck and big wondering eyes, almost seductive. It was like a ballet of nature. Much unlike them I was almost crawling from tussock to the tussock, trying to avoid the deep mud in between which by now almost had turn to streams because of the massive amounts of water coming down the hills.

I can now understand from where child stories could be born, especially those about fairies in the wood, those who lured you in before you was forever lost. As these majestic deer where dancing before me they seemed more and more to be fairies, seducing me and making me watch them, calling for me to follow. As I tried to watch for big Calluna tussocks to walk on, I couldn't keep my eyes from the fairies when suddenly I couldn't find the ground. I fell through and just barely got my hands on some Calluna. Below me I could hear a big stream, unseen from above. The bushes of Calluna had grown over it, covering it entirely, while the stream it self had eroded further down in the ground. I would say it was almost two meters deep, but I can't be sure. I pulled myself up due to the strong growing purple Calluna who covered this entire valley, as well as the next. The deer were stroppily looking at me from the next crest. This occurred in the similar fashion a couple of times more before I figured that this stream most likely had the same course as I and I took a new route, now towards the top of Laggula.

At about 16:00 the sun had finally broken through and I could have my first break for a long time. I took of almost everything I had besides the pants and tried to dry everything in the sun while I made myself some lunch. A pack of freeze-dried curry rice, cooked by the almost warm water I brought from the hostel in a thermos. Hunger is the best spice there is. I had tried to take a couple of pictures of those self important deer strolling before me, but my hand had been so cold I couldn't operate the camera. First now I had some good shots on them in the distant.

This wasn't the place to stay for too long, so I kept on going, telling me that the body heat, the wind and the sun would work together and dry my cloths faster. I pushed on and passed a road by refused to take the easy way to Roundwood. I was going to Laggula first. By now had the flies bravely crawled out again and swarmed me as I went further down towards a river. At this river I shot some of the best photos during the trip. A sparkling vivid river sided with leaf trees and big randomly placed rocks with a Loch in the end before even more hills, like it's been made for a studio. I passed the river by jumping on these random rocks, almost falling in. The flies followed me up the hillside until the wind caught up with me. At the top I took an half hour break photographing the lake, dangling with my feet from the hills edge.

The view was exceptional, hilltop after hilltop, continuing all the way around me. Of course I tried to capture it in photos, but this was just impossible. But the best feeling most be that I got there by my self.

By now I got pretty tired and thought about the fastest way to Roundwood. Unfortunately had the map didn't quite made it through the rain, at least not the part surrounding Roundwood, but I had an idea of where to go. I somewhat fell down the southeastern hillside of Laggula and crossed an other hedge full of sheep. I once again tried to make a shortcut, there are no shortcuts, and went across someones front lawn. It was covered in even more deer, maybe 40-50 of them, who all scattered when they saw me coming. Half of them went to the left, to the east, and was now spread out all over the vegetation, mostly fern. As I once again refused the easy way following the road I tried to go up this hill through the massive amounts of fern, but once again I wasn't as agile as the deer-like fairies. As I reached the road passing over the crest I swore to always take the planned way, no more shortcuts. Besides this, I'm very good at keeping my promises.

By now it was getting dark. It was past 20:00 and I was walking down a road I just prayed would take me to Roundwood, but it was heading further east, I needed to go south. The map was no use, but with my calculations from earlier today when the map was still solid i had estimated the distance to be about an hour walk, if you where going straight there. This wasn't the time to be proud, my feet hurt from being constantly soaked since the last seven hours with plenty of walking on top of this. This was a time to hitch for a ride.

Luckily I was in Ireland, to me one of the most helpful countries I've been to. The first person passing by, after about 20 minutes, responded to my high held thumb and pulled over. He gave me a lift back to Dublin, by now I didn't want to knock doors to search for a warm bed for the night. I new a good place in Dublin, Abigail's at the Quay.

Second day, or third

This time I cheated and it felt amazing. I took the bus down to Glendalough which meant that I couldn't start walking before 13:00. Still, I got there rested and was in the heart of what was supposed to be the most beautiful part of Wicklow. It wasn't, just endless woods on a hillside, with a tiny lake at the bottom. Sure, the town was pretty, with some old forgotten houses, but that's it. I've got that at home.

However, this was just a pass through which meant putting one foot before the other and head on in to the forest. This time I wasn't gonna take any shortcuts, I was gonna keep to the Wicklow Way and make good distance in no time. Then I got lost in the woods. In my sincerest attempt to bargain with the thick forest I found a way who should take me to the top and beyond. This was when it started raining, like the day before. It rained a lot. As the previous day I tried to save the map which only lead to me getting more lost. In some miraculous wonder I ended up on the right way, in retrospect I've got no idea how I got there, but I made it to the other side of this hill.

Here I was forced to walk over a swamp on to thin planks of wood, and with a wind who could fell even the strongest of walkers with leaded walking boots. I made a halfhearted attempt to take some photos but the wind and rain didn't do their part to help.

On the way down I started to take some shortcuts. Later this would make the start of my motto; "There are no shortcuts...". It took forever and I got incredibly soaked, more then the day before when i crawled in mud and fell in to rivers. It was a thick undergrowth all the way down, but at least I got down somewhat where I wanted to, just some hours later then expected.

At this point I decided it was more fun to reach the summit of Lugnaquilia then to be at the close by town at time for the last train. I'd seen a route going up this hillside from the other side, so I took a shortcut to find it. As my motto would state, this was a bad idea.

Much much later I found that route, which I'd now had a lot of bad names for, and headed for the top. I passed some sheep and headed on. Towards the top. That was supposed to be here somewhere. Maybe at the next crown.