Outdoor Odysseys

A case for division

In August 2022, I embarked on a longer break in Ireland without attending to any business matters over there. This became my annual summer getaway in the spirt of others that took me to Scotland, around Continental Europe and to North America. It also followed a longer stay centred in Galway during August 2018 that was accompanied by mixed weather as I explored parts of the counties of Clare and Galway.

Unlike the 2018 escapade, the 2022 counterpart was split between two bases because of cost consciousness. The first was Killarney, a place where I had long fancied spending more time. The day trips in April and June of the same year only whetted my appetite for such a venture. The resulting three-night stay and accompanying long days of traipsing gave much in the way of satisfaction, yet there are reasons for returning even at the time of writing these words.

The second was Cork city. Bantry, Whiddy Island, Kinsale and Cobh all featured, as did Clogheen and the Knockmealdown Mountains in County Tipperary. Temperatures were increasing all the while as I explored, reaching a crescendo at the end of the week before cooling down again. This was a contrast to the cooler weather around Killarney, with occasional wettings to remand me where I was.

These portions are so distinct that I am going to split the account of the trip in two. Since the accounts likely will be lengthy anyway, going about writing them in this way likely will make them more readable afterwards. Thus, I will bring to a close the relating of a trio of Irish excursions that set the scene for my traipsing this year.

Looking through the transport arrangements brought something home to me that I had not noticed before. My time in Killarney needed very little moving around: everything was near enough on my doorstep there. Thus, long days on foot either started from and/or ended at my accommodation; there was little need to go anywhere else. In Cork, I often left the city to visit other places. Shorelines were closer there than hills or mountains.

That contrast reminds me that my new base in Ireland needs supplementing with hotel stays in other places to make the most of what lies near them. While writing the account of a stay in Tralee, this really struck me; Dingle is not an easy day trip from Cork city when using public transport. Even West Cork is easier to savour with an accommodation base over there, and the same could be said for Galway, Mayo, Donegal and Wicklow. Much is nearby, and more is further away.

Sun, rain and Irish explorations: Journeys along the Dingle Way and more

With a few matters to address in Ireland and a wish to steer clear of the Jubilee celebrations, I found sufficient motivation for embarking on another journey to the Emerald Isle. After the success of a previous stay in Limerick, I fancied the prospect of basing myself in Killarney for a change. However, the timing included the Whit Weekend Bank Holiday in Ireland, which I blame for my encountering exorbitant accommodation costs. My trip later took me to Killarney for a day outing, when I found the real reason for the extortionate costs: Bikerfest was in town and had attracted a huge following.

Meanwhile, I had settled on Tralee as my base. While that put the Dingle Peninsula on my doorstep, there was another trip to West Limerick to check on things there. In the background, there were things to progress to which an inclement Thursday allotted some time after a morning stroll in the greyness. Friday started out grey too, so that allowed one or more phone calls to be made. This was not the full mix of weather, for eastward bands of rain blighted the bank holiday weekend, making decisions about where to go that bit more difficult.

Serendipity on the Kerry Camino

It took until Wednesday for any sunshine to successfully break through the cloud cover, too; this was a sojourn that needed patience and perseverance for any photographic rewards to be savoured. As the clouds broke overhead, I spent some time around Tralee’s town park, using any photographic opportunities that arose. That afternoon, I followed the trail of the Dingle Way out of the town for what, I thought, was an out and back hike.

While following the towpath of the ship canal was an option, I kept more closely to what the map showed to be the route of the long-distance trail, which ended up with my walking by the side of the N86 as far as Blennerville, with its iconic windmill in view all the while. Once through the village, I ended up leaving the trail for a circular foray into the foothills of the Slieve Mish Mountains. Unlike my time in Limerick, I was shod for the travel over rougher ground. The Berghaus boots may have been intended for lighter wear, yet they acquitted themselves well in the circumstances.

On returning to the Dingle Way, also known as the Kerry Camino between Tralee and Dingle via Annascaul, I still had intentions of circling back to Tralee. However, the splendour of the scenery in the sunshine continued to lure me along until I made a spur of the moment decision to continue to Camp; the availability of a decent bus service between Tralee and Dingle was what decided me as much as what was delighting me.

Views across Tralee Bay and inland towards Stack’s Mountains and Glanaruddery Mountains drew my eyes away from where I was. Even so, it was looking back along the slopes of the Slieve Mish Mountains that really held my attention. However, any peering into the dramatic setting of Baurtregaum was curtailed by the need to reach Camp. In the end, there was no hefty time constraint, so I could have lingered and gazed for a while. Even with the emotional recollection of hurrying by, I still ended up with more images than the sense of rush would have suggested. That has calmed things for me.

Thus, any regrets regarding a rude rapidity of my passage have faded; advancing clouds were calling time on any dawdling anyway. The sunshine was receding and I on the most rugged stretch of the path. There was height gain too to go with any western views that made one wonder about the possibility of glimpsing Brandon and its neighbouring hills.

Any ascent came before a gradual descent on a trail disinclined to show me my eventual destination; having to go up while knowing that you need to go down needs some forbearance. That was not all, for patience under grey skies was the order of the moment before I reached the N86 again. Wearying limbs carried me into Camp, where refreshments were obtained in advance of awaiting the bus back to Tralee. While there had been some serendipity regarding the hike that I had completed, much felt magnificent on what was my deepest incursion into Irish hill country at that time.

An Impromptu Ventry Circuit

In advance of an onslaught of rain on Thursday, I pottered around Tralee and went out along its ship canal, an entity that had been unknown to me. The skies were overcast yet dry, so I went as far as I could go before the shoreline halted me. Then, I made my way back to Tralee via lanes to reach cover before any inclement weather arrived. During the stroll, I spotted signs for the North Kerry Way, a trail that had its uses only days later.

With all obligations met, I had Friday afternoon to myself. Even with overcast skies, I still went to Dingle. Once there, I had the gift of well broken cloud cover that allowed long spells of sunshine. Making use of that situation, I followed the Dingle Way westward. Traffic on the R559 was such that I was happy to leave it for a far quieter minor road. As I followed that, views towards an unclouded Brandon were a feast for one’s eyes, even if an uncooperative foreground and occasionality of the sunshine made for challenging photographic composition.

Tarmac was left after me for a time on the way to the route of Siúlóid Cholmáin, a looped walk that passes Cill Cholmáin and Rathinane Castle. The former is the ruins of an Early Christian Monastery founded by Saint Colmán, and the latter is a fifteenth-century castle built by the Fitzgerald family, perched in a ring fort. As with many of these things, I have little recollection of the monastic ruins and the castle was on private, so I only could view it from a distance.

All this took me back on tarmac again yet in pleasing surroundings on quiet back roads. Others were out in the sunshine too, so there was at least one cheery greeting coming in my direction. Leaving the true route of the circuit, I ventured onto Ventry beach. Looking ahead brought me eyes to a gap where I might have been seeing Brandon or one of its neighbours. Looking right brought my gaze across Dingle towards the northern shore of the Iveragh peninsula and smaller landmasses lay further west. My contention is that I was seeing the distant Skelligs on a clear day.

Once off the large expanse of sand with its own lifeguard on duty, I was hailed by cheeky youngsters as “Bandito” because of the hat that I was wearing to keep off the sun. All that could be done was to laugh at their impetuousness and carry on; little harm was being done. Returning inland involved an ascent with ever expanding views before I returned to the Dingle Way to reprise the way back to Dingle.

A piece of cartographic fiction caused me to vary the route while on a false errand. That also brought me past barking dogs, an ever intrusive experience in the Irish countryside. On attempting to find it on private land and coming to an impassable obstruction, I had to give up on Cosán na Naomh and traipse tarmac all the way back to Dingle after adding more distance to my return route. Nevertheless, the exercise offered me more views of a by now clouded Brandon. The cost was something of a dash to make the penultimate bus of the day from Dingle to Tralee. Cloudier skies meant that I could do so without distraction.

An earlier departure from Tralee might have allowed for a longer circuit or a visit to Dunquin, familiar to many an Irish student of the life of Peig Sayers. A lower level circuit of Sliabh an Iolair (Eagle Mountain, in English) would have its appeal. Saying that, what I sampled gave plenty of satisfaction, so I do not feel short-changed in any way at all. Given the weather prospects of the weekend to come, it was best to snatch any opportunity with both hands.

A Morning’s Meander

In the words of a local shopworker, Saturday evening turned out nasty. Heavy rain had arrived, not from the west as most would expect, but from the east. If I had known that it take until around 18:00 to do this, I might have made more of the day. Going on a day trip to Killarney would have been a possibility.

Thinking that I only had the morning, I made use of the Greenway to see how far I would get to Fenit. The answer was: not very far. Curiosity led me onto the R551 to see how things looked and works to convert the old railway remained in progress. Given how busy the road was, that possibly was a case when inquisitiveness was best left aside, especially when I inadvertently walked in front of an oncoming car, making it stop, yet without any harm being caused to anyone. The Greenway has been opened since then, and surely must be a boon for off-road recreation, and bus services have been enhanced too.

Suitably chastened and disabused of the idea of going to Fenit, I made my way on to the North Kerry Way near Spa, using lanes that were busier than was ideal. Thankfully, things were quieter after I had passed the entrance to the golf club. Once off the road at Spa, things were better again. This was following up on an idea that came my way on Thursday morning.

The morning was bright with some hazy sunshine too, which was more than could be expected. Westward views along the Dingle peninsula were there to be savoured on a trail that shadowed a stone shoreline. Eventually, I would follow the towpath of the ship canal, where an unexpected inconvenience intruded on my day: the local rowing club’s training session. One of their number was using a bike to follow their progress, stopping rather too often for my liking. Constant leap-frogging is not the most restful.

When I got to Tralee’s town park, the heat of the day was there to be felt. The sunshine was strong, and I attended to some shopping needs that I had. It felt rude to go indoors when it was not inclement outside, yet I possibly felt the need to do just that after a morning of walking. This was a period when it looked as if Met Éireann was struggling to predict what was coming to a greater level of precision.

Between Crowds and Clouds

Figuring out what to do on Sunday became a challenge because of the lack of apparent certainty. Seeing that Killarney could be drier was enough for me to give the place a go. Until the previous encounter in April, expectations were not high. The weather information did no better than that.

If I had known that Bikerfest was there, Killarney may not have been an option at all. All too often, I arrive somewhere not knowing that an event is happening there. Fort William, Dolgellau and Bath all fall into this category, though there were ample workarounds in those cases. Visiting a crowded location soon after the zenith of a global pandemic was not my intention, not that the timing bothered many around there. Those attending Bikerfest simply behaved as if there were never a pandemic at all, not a situation that I found comfortable.

On the way back to Muckross, vehicles were parked everywhere. The impression was that Killarney was overwhelmed and any management of roadside verges for wildlife went by the wayside. Motorcycle engines sounded everywhere, with many going towards Moll’s Gap and powering up throaty engines on the way. It is an utterly alien situation for a quietude seeker to meet.

Thankfully, Muckross was blissful in comparison, The racket and the crowds were distant there, gifting the much-needed respite. The day remained overcast with low clouds on the hills. Even so, I continued to the top of Torc Mountain, passing Torc Waterfall on the way. Even with poor visibility at the top, the well-made path made it straightforward to get there. It was best not to move around too much on the summit, so I made my descent again with ideas planted in my mind for later. One was revisiting Torc Mountain in clearer conditions, and another was following the Kerry Way from Kenmare back to Killarney. An August incursion would make use of those prospects.

The way back to Killarney again tried me until I escaped through Maurice O’Donoghue Memorial Park to less crowded surroundings. From there, I made my way into Knockreer Park in the ever dampening air. The attendant lack of people was a balm to the soul, regardless. Passing the cathedral, I made for the train station, where a wetting accompanied a wait for the next train to a much wetter Tralee.

A Walk in Manannan’s Mist

After being a little unnerved around Killarney, I fancied a quieter day in the Kerry countryside. Prompted either a perhaps overoptimistic forecast or an overly hopeful self, I set off for Dingle for a hike to Annascaul. While going from Camp to Annascaul was a possibility too, I scotched that in light of the likely conditions. The sights from the bus ride along the N86, which shadows the route of the Dingle way, validated my reasoning: the cloud base was too low.

On that Bank Holiday Monday, Dingle was blissfully quiet as I set to attend to a few needs in advance of setting off in the direction of the Connor Pass. It was another section of the Dingle Way that I was using as I did this. A little route was needed to get going, and the air grew damper as I gained height. Visibility was another matter; even with being near the aforementioned pass, I could not see it. Even so, I ventured off the long distance trail in its direction, only for the wetting from damp vegetation to send me back. Some things are best left for days with better weather.

In time, the air was to get drier. That was not before whimsical thoughts emerged regarding Manannan’s mythical nightly shower in the Dingle mountains and his leisurely morning routine. Losing some height on the way to Lispole helped with the dryness, though care was needed with navigation. At one point, I nearly followed a mucky farm roadway before seeing sense and turning back to find the correct route. Any spatters would need attention later.

If it were not for boreens, there would have been less pleasure on this day of walking; it appears to me that they are an Irish speciality for long distance walking, a unique feature that I have not met elsewhere. All was quiet as I peered towards the southern shore of the peninsula. It even looked as if there might be some brightness, though any that came only was fleeting. Kilmurry Castle beckoned to me as a landmark, and I was to tarry around there for a while. Then, gazing west showed that my decision to go east was not ideal for enjoying sunshine. Going to Ventry or Dunquin might have made a better option if bus times facilitated such designs.

On the way from Kilmurry to Annascaul, views of the hilly spine of the Dingle peninsula were vastly more plentiful than the amount of sunshine that I was getting, though there was some. Some of the houses that I passed were unoccupied and falling into nature’s embrace, making me wonder if anyone might use them as a starting point for a restoration project. The present cost of living clearly limits that kind of thing, though.

Road travel took me into Annascaul where I was greeted by the sight of the South Pole, the pub operated by Tom Crean after his Antarctic adventuring came to an end. Finding the bus stop was the next task before topping up on refreshments. Before the vigil for the next bus could commence in the rain, various signs were perused to learn some history of the place, such as the fate of its Church of Ireland place of worship. If my memory is not confabulating again, others highlighted walking possibilities in the area, some featuring nearby Lough Anscaul. There is more than the Dingle Way around here.

An Underestimated Gateway to Kerry’s Hills

In summary, Tralee has much to offer as a hill wandering base. While it may be overshadowed by the delights of nearby Killarney and is a working county town, the proximity of the Dingle peninsula is in its favour. Public transport options are workable too if you do not want to use a car. For section walking of the Dingle Way, using your transport becomes much more awkward anyway.

As in my case, the weather may be unpredictable, yet it is possible to work around that. When the sun shines, all looks all the more magnificent when you realise what a gift that is. While some may be focussed on climbing Brandon, a challenge that commands competence with navigation to avoid steep ground in low visibility, there is much else that is more accessible. Even with much gained, there are sufficient excuses that prompt my return. Sometimes, anywhere that is overshadowed can be more valuable than what is overshadowing it.

Travel Arrangements

This multi-city journey through Ireland commenced with a Ryanair flight from Manchester Airport to Dublin, an opportunity to see how restrictions had been eased even further, albeit with added trepidation. Any chaos that affected outbound flights from Dublin the previous weekend did not impact me at all, though they were a sign that service restoration was not keeping pace with increasing demand. Thus, I could board Dublin Express service 782 to get to Dublin’s Heuston station, where I boarded an Iarnród Éireann train service to Tralee, transferring at Mallow station, as planned.

Regional transportation was facilitated by Bus Éireann, using their service 275 for connections between Camp, Tralee, and Dingle. For the Killarney day trip, I employed Bus Éireann’s Expressway service 40, returning via rail transport. The return from Tralee comprised a combination of Iarnród Éireann and Bus Éireann services from Limerick to Cork Airport, where I continued the journey with a Ryanair flight back to Manchester, followed by a train journey to Macclesfield, reversing my outbound mode of travel.

A stay In Limerick city that yielded more hill wandering than could have been foreseen

After all the reports of walking in English moorland, it is not before time that some variety was added. In the spring of 2022, there was a hiking project around Marsden, but I will leave that until after a brace of accounts from Irish hill wandering episodes. The year can be summarised as being one with returns to the South Pennines, the Lake District, Scotland and, of course, Ireland.

The first of those Irish incursions took the form of a day trip in March. This was another confidence building measure following the pandemic’s arrival. First, there was a return to air travel. Things had not fully opened up at that stage, so airports were quiet, and face coverings were mandatory. Though low staffing in security meant a run to the outbound plane, things otherwise were pleasant. It was the gentler reintroduction that I needed.

Once in Dublin, airport ground public transportation was not at full strength and very busy. While mask wearing was suboptimal, there were no lasting after effects. Some personal business got done in Dublin’s city centre, freeing me up for a saunter around the city. That took in Phoenix Park, Stoneybatter and Stephen’s Green before I caught a coach back to the airport from the Custom House. That felt a bit tight, yet everything went smoothly. This day trip really moved things along for me and allowed me to contemplate a longer trip to Limerick.

Limerick Bound

After a two-year absence from Ireland during 2020 and 2021, my business affairs there needed attention. While I might have made the trip in 2021, I had remained fixed on the old pattern of staying at my usual place. This was no longer viable: the house’s hot water system had failed, and arranging lifts from pandemic-wary locals as a non-resident non-driver seemed unwise. The solution presented itself: a hotel stay in Limerick city with public transport access. Conveniently, a Local Link bus route passed near the old house anyway.

This was the scene that led to a week-long stay in Limerick city that included a weekend too, with some traipsing here and there around the place. My accommodation was on the banks of the River Shannon, so I got in a few circuits taking in both side of the river. It helped that there were landmarks like King John’s Castle and St. Mary’s Cathedral to make some ventures all the more interesting. Much of what you find by the side of Ireland’s longest river has been gentrified, making it more pleasant than was the case only decades ago. This now is a not unpretty place, though the old milk powder factory remains undeveloped and is due for civic regeneration.

Business affairs took me beyond the city limits to West Limerick. Along with property visits and another meeting, there was an opportunity to explore Adare as well as sample the part of the Limerick Greenway between Newcastle West and Ardagh. Otherwise, there was an impromptu sortie from the city centre along the Lough Derg Way that shadowed the banks of the River Shannon until I left that trail to traipse alongside the canal conveying water to Ardnacrusha power station. Seeing that staggered me on realising that this was a project completed in the first decade of the then newly independent Irish Free State. From there, I wound my way back to the city again during an enjoyable afternoon while other business was completed on my behalf further west.

Going East for a Day

Local wandering around the city and county of Limerick more likely whetted my appetite for long explorations instead of sating it. The initial prompt had been what I could see glistening in the sunshine from my hotel room once Tuesday’s drenching downpours had abated. Those sights had me checking out what was there on any maps. By Saturday, a design including a visit to the Clare Glens and an associated incursion into the Slieve Felim Hills had come together in my mind.

Handily, there was a bus service for getting me to Newport in Co. Tipperary and back again, though its infrequency timeboxed the outing. Traipsing along roads in the direction of Murroe, a place in Co. Limerick, got me to the Clare Glens, somewhere that I had not been for decades. Though compact, this is a pleasant spot and, if my recollection is sound, I had the place to myself too. The draw of the Slieve Felim Way and the Glenstal Looped Walk was too strong on a fine sunny day, so I did not dally.

Though much of the walking was on roads and good tracks, the footwear that I was using would not have been my first choice for this kind of thing. These Merrell trail shoes were meant for better wear than longer distance traipsing, yet they were well-made too and more than coped with what I was putting their way. However, the sight of a forestry firebreak may have made me wonder about getting to a summit while going around the Glenstal Loop, only for the choice of footwear to allow me to shelve the idea, even if forestry had been curtailing the views until then.

They later opened out for me on leaving the Slieve Felim Way, in any event. Though suffering from some haze, the sights of the surrounding rolling hills was what brought me, and I was not short-changed. While hiking along forestry tracks may be limiting in some ways, this was a good extension to what, before then, was limited exposure to Irish hill country. The heat of the day was on my mind as I followed track and roadway to return to Newport for the bus back to Limerick, the last of the day and one that I certainly did not want to miss. As often happens, I had time to spare before it came. Even so, it was better to end the outing that way.

A Day Around Killarney

After the preceding day’s perambulations around the Slieve Felim Hills, I embarked on a day outing to Killarney, one of Ireland’s iconic spots and a place that is well known to me from many family outings. However, there is something to be said to encountering a place in your own time without the constraints of group timing or others’ preferences. For example, I went for a stroll while there with my parents before a change of job, conscious of increasing impatience the longer I was away from them.

As familiar as anywhere is, you nearly always can find a corner that is new to you. Knockreer Park was one of those that I happened upon through serendipity, only in this case because I made a beeline for Killarney’s cathedral before going anywhere else. My route through the place took me to Ross Castle while savouring any sights in the morning sunshine along the way.

Since Ross Castle is one of Ireland’s iconic antiquities, I just had to make some photos of a place that I last encountered nearly two decades before. Luckily, it stayed sunny for this because the weather forecast was for cloudy skies during the afternoon. While I was hoping that the sun would stay, the forecast sadly held true. Thus, dullness took over on the way to and through Muckross. Even so, the prospect of circling Muckross Lake was too good to leave, putting to rights a partial encounter from years before. The sights appealed to me, adding to the sadness of having clouded skies. A return would be in order; there have been a few since then.

The way to Killarney involved a ride on an express coach, yet a sense of disappointment sent me back by train, with changes in Mallow and Limerick Junction. More hill country was there to be glimpsed and checked out using a mobile mapping app. More sun was on offer, too, as I built up ideas for future escapades.

Wandering Near Lough Derg

Some might see it as an act of mockery to experience sunshine after a day that clouded over to dent emotional steadiness. However, it also offered an opportunity to put any sense of disappointment behind me. Thus, I ventured north to Killaloe to make use of what had come my way. This was a chance to earn some recompense.

Thus, I left Killaloe by following the East Clare Way after attending to a matter. The early morning quietude applied balm to the soul as I trod along rural roads; this was much appreciated. Tarmac was left after me near Feenlea only to find some soft ground and wet patches that were not ideal for the footwear that I had. Careful footwork got around this, and I began to gain some height.

Looking left sent my gaze towards Moylussa, Clare’s county top. That information was not in my mind on the day, so I left that top behind me to stand on Feenlea Mountain instead. That act was serendipitous; curiosity sent me following a trail that I saw a runner use. Below me lay the astonishing expanse of Lough Derg. That is what I recall above all else, for I never realised how large Irish lakes could be.

By now on the route of the Crag Wood Walk, I began my descent to the lakeside, all the while taking in the views as I went. On the Tipperary side of the lake lay the Arra Mountains and a tempting hiking prospect that would make more use of the Lough Derg Way. The skies were again filling with clouds as I went to and tarried around Rinnaman Point. However, these were not to bring any dulling of the spirit, for much satisfaction was coming my way.

Road walking was my lot on the way back to Killaloe. On the way, I encountered Béal Ború, another serendipitous discovery. More dallying resulted around this earthwork from times of antiquity; the naming connects to the Celtic king and champion against Scandinavian invaders, Brian Ború. Bus timings lured me across the Shannon from Killaloe and Clare to Ballina and Tipperary under skies that occasionally released sunshine. It struck me that many of the bridges across Ireland’s longest rivers are single track affairs, needing traffic lights in some places; a few had been encountered on my travels that day.

A Bequest of Inspiration

As I went back and forth between these different destinations, I began to note other possibilities for exploration, some of which have been used since then. While the Galtee Mountains remain unlisted, the same cannot be said for the Ballyhoura Mountains, the Knockmealdown Mountains or the Comeragh Mountains. Kerry has seen multiple visits, as has West Cork, a place well outside the range of all this freestyle Eastertide wandering.

That brought me a sense of liberation that I had not experienced in my own home country. There was something special about immersing myself in nature, surrounded by the beauty of the Irish countryside. As I savoured the hills and valleys, I felt grateful for the opportunity to experience this part of the world, and I could look forward to many more adventures exploring its secrets.

Travel Arrangements and Observations

The Dublin trip involved a return flight from Manchester with Aer Lingus and the use of Dublin Express route 782 for getting between the airport and the city centre. Train travel got me between Macclesfield and Manchester Airport.

Airports were still quiet at that stage, especially compared to today. Cork Airport felt like a ghost town, and I did not dally at Shannon Airport. The latter was used on the arrival from Manchester, while the former was used on the return. Both flights were with Ryanair, with train travel getting me to and from Manchester Airport.

Bus Éireann Expressway route 51 got me from Shannon Airport to Limerick city, while Bus Éireann Expressway routes 13 and 14, and Dublin Coach route 300, got between the city and West Limerick when needed. The latter also got me to Killarney; while the services of Iarnród Éireann got me back again. Local Link bus route 391 got me to and from Newport. Bus Éireann route 345 got me from Limerick to Killaloe while Bus Éireann route 323 got me from Ballina to Limerick. Both Iarnród Éireann and Bus Éireann conveyed me from Limerick to Cork Airport.

Filling in gaps and reorganising what became unwieldy

The travelogue has seen quite an amount of attention in the last few weeks. Firstly, a lot of content has been added or refreshed. Destination directories have become more informative articles, giving rise to new sections for Canada and the U.S.A. The former Alpine and Pyrenean article for Europe has been split up into its own section. Other sections have been renamed and many articles retitled.

The enabler for all this flurry of changes has been the advent of GenAI; it is now possible to automate a lot of the effort. It still needs human oversight and can be heavy work from time to time. As with human help, not every tool is as effective as one might like it to be. Getting to know such foibles is becoming essential for the world of work.

The gap filling also happened around here as well. Wherever there was a collation of websites, descriptions were added. In one case, a more narrative form was made from what was there; it is the outdoor pursuits inspiration piece that was progressed like that. In time, that may be the way that things go in other places, too. If you want to check what has happened, all the activity was in the resources section. The collations of long-distance trails and online retailers are among the beneficiaries.

While changes may have been dramatic thanks to new text processing technology, much remains unaltered. While the appearance may get attention sometime, that is not a priority for now. Trips remain human written anyway; the technology does not do all for us anyhow. You may have notes, but a machine can only do so much with them; it cannot carry over your personal touch that well or easily.

It all takes my back to university days, when a lecturer found regurgitated errors in someone else’s work. Then, the advice was to use the efforts of others for inspiration, not transcription. That remains ever more relevant in the times in which we now live. We need to learn how to use the new machines to help us, and that will be a longer process with its share of slips and trips before everything gets consolidated again.

Required: energy plus inspiration; unshackling that enables relocation

While every year of our lives can be unique, 2024 has been more unusual for me than others. The main cause has been the reorganisation of what I have in Ireland, selling some of what I hold while getting a new family base there. All this takes time, of course, and has meant that I spent more time in Ireland than has been the case for a long time. Some of that was used for the painful work of clearing out an old family home for sale. Now that effort is complete, my mind can turn to other things.

Spending more time in Ireland meant that I got to explore the place more than I ever did. There were numerous visits to parts of Kerry and West Cork, while Waterford, Limerick and Tipperary. Clare looked like being omitted until I journeyed through the county while on a day trip to Galway. All that rambling now means that I am a little short of ideas for Munster explorations, a situation in which I never thought I would find myself.

The location in Cork city also is a limitation. While the area is quiet, it also means that there is a thirty-minute bus journey to reach bus and train stations for onward travel beyond the city. In some ways, this takes me back to when I was living in Edinburgh. In those days, youth and novelty were sufficient to overcome some of the inertia that being outside a city centre can bring. It also reminds of how fortunate that ten to fifteen walk from my house to Macclesfield’s train station has been for various getaways.

Another thing about Cork that hit me during a week or so spent in Ireland during August 2022 was that any Irish hill country is further away. For that, you need the energy to get to Kerry, Waterford or even Tipperary. For a time during this autumn that was lacking, though things are picking up now. It appears that staying put somewhere for a while helps with building motivation.

In many ways, it is its coastline that marks out the county of Cork as exceptional. There are three main peninsulas, Mizen, Sheep’s Head and Beara, and I have got to some part of all of them. Add in Kinsale and there is a building exposure. Around Cork harbour, there is a lot too, though industrialisation dulls the appeal somewhat. In East Cork, there is Youghal and Ballycotton, the latter of which I have yet to visit for its clifftop walk; an infrequent bus service means that might be a full day trip unless inland travel on country lanes is part of a hike. A need to find more of what is nearby had me looking on AllTrails, though use generated content needs care and everyone needs to hike their own hike, not someone else’s one.

With time, a stay elsewhere in Ireland might be the solution. In a good way, Limerick is somewhat spoiled by its location with access to Kerry, Clare and Tipperary hills, not to mention Shannon lakes like Lough Derg. Galway and other spots in Ireland’s west and northwest have much to offer, and there also is Northern Ireland.

Your possessions can possess you; that might not be helping me with the new base in Cork. Slowly, but surely, I am starting to move beyond the that stage for letting go often is the only way forward. Places in the U.K. continue to beckon; Inverness was another prospect this year, with its potential as a jumping point for hikes around the shore of Loch Ness or further afield for a circuit near Achnasheen comes to mind too. North America again comes to mind as a reward for unshackling myself.

Before the financial transaction went through, I was free to explore several parts of Scotland and France, and did so. There was another session of house clearing before all that: decluttering my own base in the U.K. A lot has happened this year during a break for other paying work. That too needs a return.

Though there is a danger that it could be procrastination, especially at this time of year, much has been happening on the content side with this online outpost. Trips reports have been written that got me past both 2020 and 2021 into 2022. The mention of a certain pandemic will decline to near nothing in these, probably to the relief of some. 2021 was so dull that night walking may have been undertaken for the sake of the novelty that was absent, though it might have been a respite after 2020 brought the most challenging kind of upheaval. That night walking dallying has erupted again along the shores of Lough Mahon too, which makes me wonder if there is any resonance, and 2024 has not been that dull.

In the background, there has been dabbling with what new GenAI tools can do for this place; they help and can be hard work to get anything like what you need from them. They assisted the fleshing out of destination guides for Canada, Australia, the Canary Islands, Cinque Terre and Mallorca. The first of these became a major effort that likely needs splitting apart to produce a Canada section to the travelogue instead. There is another, handwritten, candidate for that treatment too: the Alpine and Pyrenean article that I compiled a while ago. There are other destination guides that I want to add for various U.S. western states, but that will be more gradual because other things need doing in my life.

The automation also helped to build up the long-distance trails article, as well as the one for additional outdoors inspiration. Numerous empty spaces are getting filled while I get to grips with the technology tsunami that is starting to affect us all in so many ways. It is neither as good as its promoters claim nor as bad as its detractors suggest. One thing is certain: it will be a step change, much like the way personal computing became pervasive thirty years ago.

This will be something to domesticate over time, and retaining our connection to the outdoors is never more crucial. Just like the internet nearly a generation ago, there is the risk of getting lost in a technology bubble with all that is happening. Getting outside in nature can be a counterpoint to all that is happening, for nothing what is perceived using our natural senses. Online experiences may be a way of limiting overtourism, yet we are tactile creatures who need that physical connection to wilder places.

That drew me out to Curraghbinny Woods not so long ago. The day was mild and sunny, and there were sunlit sights of what lay around the place, including nearby Crosshaven and more distant Cobh. No metaverse can replace that. Unshackling oneself to get to these and other places remains more necessary than ever.