Category: Mind & Spirit
Between the rush and the ramble: Swiss cities, Scottish hills and life’s rhythms
28th June 2025 Much has happened since I last posted something on here. After an extended and frustrating period, I am embarking on a freelance assignment with a new client. This came unexpectedly while I was pursing a search for permanent employment. It also turns out that things may be improving on the freelance market, given what I am starting to see elsewhere. Those other opportunities can go to others; when you choose one for yourself, you are implicitly rejecting all everything and everyone else, as a Capuchin priest preached on marriage on a Sunday morning near the end of last year. Sometimes, wisdom can be portable from one context to another.
From Geneva's Via Jacobi to Zurich's Hidden Woodlands
Bookending the above frenzy were trips away from home, first to a conference and then for leisure. The former took me to Geneva, where I got to explore the place in parallel. A Saturday arrival allowed for a Sunday saunter from Coppet back to Geneva that followed the Via Jacobi for much of the way, albeit with some deviations south of Versoix and near Geneva's Botanic Gardens. After getting sated by other strolling around the city, I embarked on an evening visit to Bern on the Friday before I returned to the UK, going by rail all the way home for the sake of added variety.
Zurich also got two visits. The first saw me go to Lucerne on arrival to make the best of the better day of the weekend with some lakeside strolling before venturing into a shady woodland with some ascent involved as I turned back towards the city centre again. A boat trip around Zurichsee made a lot of the mixed weather that came my way the next day, especially during an amble from Rapperswil to nearby Pfäffikon under breaking skies before returning by train. Some city strolling around Zurich followed the passing of a rain shower to round off the trip ahead of a return flight the next day.
The lack of sunny weather around Zurich drew me back later, even if temperatures were higher than what suits me. After following up a work opportunity, I caught up with the place on a sunny if sweltering evening to make some better photos. The next day, I went to Basel to potter through its Altstadt on a circuit taking in the banks of the River Rhine. That was completed in sufficient time to allow more wandering around Zurich after attending to a matter. More photos were made before my rambling among extensive woodland adjoining the city. That had me passing the city's zoo while remarking at the peace that surrounded me in the late evening, a counterpoint to what else was happening in my life.
An Ascent of Fionn Bheinn and a Section of the Great Glen Way
The action that resulted in the new freelance contract happened after all this and to celebrate the success, I made use of a trip idea that was thwarted by a previous frenzy of similar activity. Thus, I went north to Inverness when some sunny weather was on offer. After a late arrival caused by a tardy start, I went on a day trip to Achnasheen to make an ascent of Fionn Bheinn and take whatever views that gained me. An octogenarian was going the same way, but I decided to pass him and hike my own hike in the hope that the gradient would cause him to opt for a short stroll.
The route has a reputation for being boggy, and even a year with a lot of dry weather did not mean my avoiding soggy ground. That made the going more challenging on the initial stage of the ascent before gradients slackened for a while. It was only near the top that I met with better ground. By then, the views really opened out around me, as they had been doing while I gained height. Heat haze curtailed photographic hopes, albeit without taking from any scenic delights. For my descent, I went down by Sàil an Tuim Bhàin and Achnasheen Plantation to return to Achnasheen where I would have a lengthy wait for my train.
It was around five minutes before that arrived that my elderly counterpart arrived after reaching the top, further irking my conscience about having passed him on the way, even if I did need my own quiet time. The American was talkative, and I grabbed a step for getting him onto the train from the low platform, watching that he was OK after his extraordinary exertions. He seemingly ventured further up the carriage, apparently meeting some acquaintances. That was where our encounter ended.
Though myself wearied by my own actions around Fionn Bheinn, I stuck with my plan to follow the Great Glen Way from Drumnadrochit back to Inverness. The day started cloudy, and I contented myself with that as I departed from Drumnadrochit. Nevertheless, cloud cover began to break as I climbed up from the A82. Until the late afternoon, sunshine was to come and go. Before that, I deviated around by Carn na Leitire and relished some quiet road walking in advance of venturing onto trails again.
Then, I got word of some property that I had lost without my realising it and arranged a meet up with the finders to get it back before leaving Inverness for home. The kindness of others never fails to surprise me, leaving me to wonder at my own helpfulness or my perceived lack of it. A friendly chat ensued with passing fellow walkers after those phone calls; they were local and shared with me some knowledge about drove roads before we parted. They also said about travel being downhill from where we were, and they were not at all wrong about that. Being back in Inverness at an appropriate hour meant that I could attend to yet another matter before resting a while in advance of some gentler river bank wandering on a balmy summer's evening. It attempted to belie the forecast of rain for the next day, a failed ruse if ever there was one.
On being reunited with my lost property, I caught the next train to Edinburgh. Travelling meant that I was indoors from any rain. Even a delay due to overrunning engineering works around Pitlochry failed to scupper my progress, despite it meaning that a later departure from Edinburgh was my lot. The mixture of satisfaction and being humbled by the actions of others brought no cause for complaint.
In Reflection
For me, these recent months have been a reminder that life rarely unfolds as we expect it; we never know enough to plan everything; that is an ongoing life lesson for me. Here are some prompts: a freelance opportunity that emerged after a long wait, the kindness of strangers who returned lost property and chance encounters on hill country paths. Then, you can get a contrast between the frenetic pace of a search for work and the measured rhythm of walking at the same time as a juxtaposition of paths trampled and life experienced: sometimes boggy and challenging underfoot, otherwise offering clearer paths and broader views. It all exhibits how mysterious we are and how life is likewise.
There has been much closure to complement all of this mix of parallels and contrasts, too. There may be the prospect of following the South Loch Ness Trail, but that can wait for a weekday when bus times work better for such a venture. Having considered possibilities while I was up north, I am decided on that awaiting another time. With so much satisfaction otherwise gained, there can be no cause for complaint. Other things matter now as life proceeds into a new chapter.
Emerging from a rut
30th December 2024 The last word in the title for this piece nearly became "funk". That would have reflected the absence of any longer hikes since the end of August and the dominance of any other preoccupations like experimenting with Generative AI or various changes that I have been making to my business affairs, especially in Ireland.
When I went about checking out the meaning of funk, I was directed to the concept of an emotional funk, with one of the proposed remedies being the taking of simple steps as part of progressing one's emergence. While in the UK before Christmas, a day trip to Edinburgh along with sorting out other matters and generating ideas for the start of 2025 was part of the process. In some ways, getting out and about in Macclesfield is simpler than doing the same in Cork.
While stationed in Cork, it has meant finding ways to get places for shorter outdoor outings that cannot be frustrated by a sense of inertia. One trick was to get to Blarney to use some public trails that AllTrails brought to my attention; it also helped with ideas for around Kinsale too. These gain various names from the likes of Ardmadane, River Martin, Knocknasubh and Clogheenmilcon Fen. Putting them all together in some sort of fashion easily wiled away an otherwise dry afternoon when sunshine was coming and going. Going with the flow to an extent was the cause of my starting in Blarney and finishing up in Killeens. Varying the routes to add variety could mean having these on a proverbial shelf for ideas in advance of being able to make a short getaway.
Ballincollig Regional Park was another option that became useful, especially when I was not equipped for muddy trails. Though the place was busy with families while I was there, there were some quieter interludes along its network of trails. Some are part of a network called the Ballincollig Gunpowder Trails, reflecting the fact that there was a gunpowder mill in the place once upon a time. Many of these shadow the River Lee too, and that especially applies to the Otter Trail; the area apparently is a stronghold for otters, though their nocturnal or near-nocturnal habits make it less likely that you will see one. A city centre change of bus makes this one work for me, and connections are far off being seamless with nearby of shared stops and frequent running. That might help to extinguish any excuses in the future.
As described in a previous trip report, Kinsale is not so far from Cork city and the changing of a bus can be made to work well, especially on the return journey when a stop is shared between the required routes. The Scilly Walk proved its worth on the way to Charles Fort and then on by Middle Cove and Lower Cove before muddy tramping on the way around by Preghane Point. Brief, light if wetting showers came and went, interspersed with any spells of sunshine, as I progressively evaded humanity the further that I continued. While the price might have been muddied clothes and momentary wettings, the rewards of solitary ambling with clifftop views cannot be underestimated.
With other things in mind and not having information from the likes of AllTrails, I eschewed the tempting footpath leading to Preghane Point when I was last around Kinsale in August 2022; information on these things is not always available from a hiking map in Ireland. A little extra is needed to overcome any risk averseness, and time can be as important as possessing the right knowledge sometimes. With access issues being prevalent in Ireland, one's curiosity needs to be curtailed to avoid the possibility of confrontation.
Building up a catalogue of getaways like this may just be enough to put a stop to any paralysis by thoughts that there is an insufficiency of time for such escapes. You do have a travel a little in Ireland to get to such nearby places because it is not as simple as finding a public footpath or other right of way and following that, as you would in England or Wales. Even so, the push need not require that amount of energy either. Anything that halts torpor has to be a good thing, particularly at this time of year.
An Impromptu Venture: Going through the Gap of Dunloe and around by the Black Valley
20th December 2024 After the energetic tramping of the preceding days, my mind was fixed on an easier day. Though the morning began with cloudy skies, I was determined to make something of the day. My choice became the Gap of Dunloe, somewhere that I only glimpsed from a passing car thirty years before. One particular vista from the narrow valley was immortalised by John Hinde in a jigsaw puzzle that I completed when I was younger. The colours may have been embellished by hand, yet the scene centred on a bridge surrounded by steep slopes, and perhaps with a jaunting car in there as well, comes to my mind's eye as I write these words.
While much of my traipsing around Killarney in 2022 linked me to family outings from thirty years before, the day around the Gap of Dunloe and beyond was where this meme particularly took hold. It echoed a similar meme that took me back twenty years in Scotland. In the main, the latter linked solitary experiences, while the former supplanted communal ones with solitary counterparts. There are times when it is easier to imbibe your surroundings with no one else to distract you. At least, that is how it appears to work for me, anyway.
Again, being a year too early for improved bus services again comes to mind. The last bus of the day between Beaufort Bridge and Killarney did not leave so much of the day for being around the Gap of Dunloe given the time of my outbound journey. Services between Killorglin and Killarney cover more of the day these times, especially since route 279 complements Expressway route 40 by going via Killorglin between Tralee and Killarney. The limitation of a bus timetable played on my mind at the head of the gap, even if I could have made the return leg of my walk in the available time.
Between all that, I gained much from clouds breaking in the sky over my head. Quiet lanes led me from the bus stop past Beaufort and some ogham stones to reach Kate Kearney's Cottage, where horse and carriage tour providers had a terminus. My rambling involved sharing with others using various forms of transport: walking, cycling, motoring and equine. Even so, the unpeopled scenes that you see above were as they came out of the camera, something worth saying in an era when distraction removal has been made so much easier by the advent of Generative AI.
Such is the list of lakes passed on my way that the words "Pater Noster" come to mind in their geographical sense; the string of lakes are akin to beads on the string of a set of rosary beads, thus gaining the Latin words for Our Father, a pivotal prayer in Christianity. Going south, the list builds like this: Coosaun Lough, Cushnavally Lake, Augur Lake and Black Lough, each a "bead" on the "string" of the River Loe. All added interest as I went on my way, as much as the steep slopes rising around me.
Some were walls of rock, offering a sound mirror for passing tourists and their guides. While the delight of hearing echoes may marvel some, the pursuit runs counter to my desire for quietude. Thankfully, I only witnessed this happening lower down the valley and relinquished that experience to encounter the actual delights that sated me.
Inasmuch as it appeared that the sunshine would carry on for the rest of the day, that was not to be. It was as I neared the head of the gap that a passing rain shower caught me; it was as if it were trying to steer me into sticking with my original plan. However, the sight of a sign welcoming visitors to the Black Valley sunk my adhesion to that idea. Though Killarney was around twenty kilometres away on foot and I had only trail shoes rather than hiking boots, the prospect was one that I was not to surrender. Travelling under one's own power adds a certain amount of security anyway; all is under your control as far as your physical condition allows.
As the shower faded, I descended into a valley where I had not passed for around thirty years. This time, I was on foot and could soak in my surroundings, scenery, ambience and all else while following another section of the Kerry Way. It is challenging to do that so completely while travelling in a motor vehicle, as I was on the previous occasion in the area. The locality's church got a visit when I stopped a while on the way to Lord Brandon's Cottage. Cars were about as well horse and carriage tours, and I marvelled at where the former came from, especially when surprised by one that was behind me. It was not as if I expected a small convoy to pass me.
Though the boreen was not without its attendant delights, I was happy to leave all encounters with other traffic after me, at least for a while. Sadly, the sun ducked behind clouds around Lord Brandon's Cottage to foil attempts at photographic capture of the bridge across the Gearhameen River. In time, amends were made as I approached and passed Upper Lake on the way to Derrycunihy and Galway's Bridge. Though others were about, much was quiet too, and all was relished.
Crossing the N72 got me onto a track leading towards where I had been the previous day. Going straight ahead instead of turning left for Esknamucky Glen would have landed me back in Kenmare again. Since Killarney was where I was headed, turning left and retracing eastbound steps was my lot. If I had wondered about my trail shoes dealing with a rough path, I need not have worried. Merrell build their wares well, as I had plenty of cause to discover during 2022.
That small cascade where I could not linger the previous day became a lunching stop for me. Humanity and civilisation felt very far away in the blissful spot. Though overcast skies lay over me, that did nothing to take from the respite offered by this uncelebrated and unpeopled spot. Once I got going again, I was not minded to once more climb Torc Mountain after what the previous evening brought me while I was up there. Sticking to the trail sufficed, and I descended by a busy Torc Waterfall. If I was hoping for the place to be quiet and unfrequented at the time of day that I was passing, it was not to be.
Another crossing of the N72 ensued, this time for a passage by Muckross House and Muckross Friary that had me being more present with the exercise. It offered a chance to make amends for any self-perceived slight at how I passed through the place the previous evening. There was a chance to pause at the ruined friary too, so there was no rushing. Savouring the delights of a summer evening was what it was all about, particularly when the clouds again parted to release more invigorating sunshine.
That approach pervaded the rest of the way, too. Going via Maurice O'Donoghue Park adjusted my course, so I ventured through Knockreer for what I though might be the last time. As I was moving with less fatigue than 24 hours previously, I wondered if impromptu long distance walking with lighter footwear was paying its dividends. An impulsive decision had granted me more than I would have dared to seek; the length of the route seemed overly ambitious during a spell of planning. This was a day that was memorable in so many good ways.
Kerry Way and Torc Mountain: A Highland Trek from Kenmare to Killarney
19th December 2024 In one respect, my longer stay in Killarney was a year too early. 2023 brought an enhanced bus service between Killarney and Kenmare. That would have made for an earlier start along the main hike of my second full day in Kerry: the section of the Kerry Way between Kenmare and Killarney. The later start may have meant that I had longer around Killarney before setting off, yet the long Irish summer evenings meant that there was no major impact in the end.
If I was too early for making use of better bus services, I was optimally timed for avoiding overtourism. A stroll through Knockreer this past July brought that home to me. While it might have been a later arrival from Cork that put me in the time slot for hotel guests being conveyed on horse and carriage tours by jarveys, I was left with the impression that jarveys owed nothing to passing walkers and cyclists. Convoys of them were going my way, and it did not feel very comfortable at all. The 2022 forays avoided all that in a world only slowly emerging from the pandemic tourism nadir.
Unless I have some business to do, I tend not to loiter around Irish towns if I can avoid doing so. That was how it went for me in Kenmare, so I set to finding the route of the Kerry Way and ascending a back road leading unyieldingly uphill from the town. As it did so, I was treated to ever expanding views of Kenmare River and nearby Beara Peninsula on any rest breaks that were needed. The quietude of my surroundings was a marked counterpoint to extensive commercial business ongoing in the town that I left behind me.
Not many others passed me in the opposite direction as I ventured further into the hills. As I did so, it was what surrounded me took up my attention in place of what lay behind me. Gradients also eased to make for less demanding progress along the boreen. It was as if I were passing through such an emerald idyll past which it was rude to rush. Many photography stops ensued as I closed in on Peakeen Mountain and Knockanaguish.
Leaving tarmacked boreens behind me, I took to the gravelled track leading me between Peakeen Mountain and Knockanaguish. It was hereabouts that the skies clouded to limit photography, and a rain shower overtook me to provide the only wetting of the day. Nevertheless, it soon passed to let me imbibe the delights of the bucolic surroundings. It really was special to have such a place deserted and to allot me one of the best lunching stops that I have ever enjoyed. That Windy Gap was not living up to its name made the experience even better.
After that elevated lunching spot, a descent was in order on a track leading to Galway's Bridge and Derrycunihy. However, that was not the direction to be following for Killarney, so I turned right to ascend to Esknamucky Glen; the name of the glen means place of the pigs in Irish (Eisc na Muicí). Before getting, someone going the other way asked for directions to Lady's View, an inquiry that surprised me. A consultation of the map revealed that they were not so misplaced, though a walk along the N72 did not strike me as anyone's idea of pleasure.
If I was expecting a gravel track all the way through Esknamucky Glen, disappointment would have been my lot. Since the surface of the trail is at times uneven along the lower slopes of Cromaglan Mountain, I was glad to be wearing boots. The aforementioned hill might make for a pleasing outing, especially after I opted not to reach its summit, and it is far from being the highest in the area by a long shot.
Only for someone else already being there, I might have dawdled near a small lake and an attendant waterfall on an off-trail break. It would have been well-placed after all the care with foot placement that preceded it. Instead, I made for the track that brought the idea of following the Old Kenmare Road section of the Kerry Way to my notice in the first place.
That was on a claggy day trip to Killarney from Tralee the previous June. Then, I made my getaway from a human throng that centred on Muckross Road to reach the top of Torc Mountain, despite the lack of any views because of the low cloud base. My passing the same hill in better conditions meant that I could not decide against making another ascent, even after the ups and downs of coming all that way from Kenmare.
The added exertions were amply rewarded. Some Americans making their descent shared their astonishment at what they saw; the word "awesome" got used. As overused as that term might be, the panoramic views that I had missed on the earlier encounter were all there to be savoured. All of Killarney's lakes lay below, from Upper Lake to Muckross Lake to Lough Leane, along with Lough Guitane near Glenflesk and nestled beneath Mangerton and its neighbouring hills. This was a spot on which to linger, yet there was a good distance to walk to get to Killarney, and I needed to get going. That would have put paid to any designs on reaching the lower west top of the hill, should they ever had existed.
Conscious of time, I made my descent over boardwalk and pitched path, hardly a great combination for scurrying downhill when one's fear of tumbling takes control. Once on the track below, I rejected the prospect of a descent by Torc Waterfall for a gentler gravelled, and later tarmacked, one following the course of the Old Kenmare Road before crossing the N72 into Muckross.
By this stage, my recollection is that things had degenerated to a sort of zombie trot. Fatigue was to blame at the time, though I now wonder if time also was of the essence. Whatever was the combination of causes, it felt rude to be scurrying past Muckross Friary in the state of mind that I had entered by then. After travelling several more kilometres, I was back at my accommodation, ready for a good night's rest after an often stunning day.
Lakes and Legacies: A Circuit via Knockreer Park and Meetings of the Waters
18th December 2024 The great thing about being based somewhere is that you never need to worry about making the last bus, coach or train back when your base is elsewhere. In Killarney's case, this matters if you are coming from Cork or Limerick, and less so if Tralee is where you are returning. It also is how I got so much out of my Scottish escapades, so repurposing that approach in Ireland was sure to pay dividends. It was as if I were in the Irish counterpart to Aviemore, though things differ substantially in Killarney.
My first full day in the area began cloudy, yet I was more than happy to let the day develop in its own time and add some editing to the photos that I would make. When you seek sunlit visits, you make it possible for the conditions to do just that. Patience is what is needed then, particularly when a midday rain shower comes your way.
It was in that spirit that I continued from my accommodation into Knockreer Park. Along the way there, I passed through Killarney House and Gardens, which offered an escape from street-side strolling. My objective at this stage was to get to the shore of Lough Leane and follow that on the way towards Ross Castle. In some ways, this was a reprise of the route taken during the day trip from Limerick the preceding April, albeit with numerous variations.
One of these was not to linger around historic Ross Castle but to potter around adjoining Ross Island, a lakeside peninsula despite the name. Along the way, I visited such spots as its disused copper mine, the Governor's Rock and O'Donoghue's Library. On the way back towards the castle, I shadowed Ross Bay. The strolling took me into quieter recesses away from the castle, which I was again to pass on the way to Muckross.
While the horse-racing fraternity may not agree with me on this, I reckon that it would add a lot to be able to cut across the racecourse to avoid going along Muckross Road so much. Hoteliers then might have cause to complain if I suggested a footbridge across the River Flesk to go through their grounds. My day trip to Killarney from Tralee at the start of the preceding June would have benefitted greatly from such a diversion that avoided most if not all of the throng that descended on the town that bank holiday weekend.
However, there is a partial concession to this thoroughfare avoidance in the form of a cut-through from Ross Road to Muckross Road near where the latter crosses the aforementioned river. This goes through a residential area before skirting the racecourse stabling area and crossing Maurice O'Donoghue Memorial Park. Anything is better than nothing, I suppose.
Muckross is a significant distance from Killarney at around five kilometres. On the way there, it is mostly downhill, yet going uphill on the way back to meet a transport connection is not the best. Nevertheless, Muckross Road does have places for refreshing oneself if time is available for attending to such needs. The outbound distance and the dallying around other places meant my arrival in Muckross was tardy, all the more so given how much time I spent around Muckross Friary awaiting some sun to allow photos to be made. Thus, I found myself around Muckross House around 16:30, and I was having plans to round Muckross Lake. The length of an Irish summer evening meant that such designs were not as daft as they might have appeared.
The amount of available sunlight justified my persistence; this was to be an advance on the overcast outing that I weathered the preceding April. Much was put to rights during this circuit, and I lingered hopefully near Dinis Cottage and Meetings of the Waters in wait for sunshine to return after any cloudy spells. The waters in question were in good flow with currents flowing strongly from Upper Lake, Muckross Lake and Lough Leane at this well known confluence.
On the way back from Meetings of the Waters to Muckross, I got more than my share of recompense for what I missed during the previous encounter. Despite occasional pauses while the sun played peek-a-boo with the clouds, its appearances brought moments worth savouring. Thus, there was no cause for complaint as I crossed the N72 to pick up a path taking me destined for Torc Waterfall, only for my deciding to peel off for Muckross instead. That spared me some uphill travel and postponed any encounter with a busy spot for later in my stay in the area.
Though Muckross was sun blessed, there was a sign that not everywhere was dry. Dark rain clouds lent a dramatic atmosphere to any sightings of Muckross House. Looking towards the lake allowed a glimpse of a very different world. The juxtaposition of rain and sun in places only kilometres apart was striking.
My return to Killarney was to earn me a soaking as the rain clouds headed west. They soon left me to dry, and I arrived at my lodgings, not displeased with my day on foot. When so much was set to rights, it is impossible to grumble about passing occasional wettings. There was equally much that was peaceful and scenic, too. The tranquillity and lushness of my surroundings was more than amenable to my spirit.
