Dear Chaotic-Brain,
for my trip to Ireland, I decided that hiking for the first few days would free my mind of the somewhat confining thought patterns of daily routines that my busy schedule at home had created and that it would catapult me into the rhythm and flow of the island. It was in this chaotic state that I planned an over-ambitious three-day hiking trip and choose to get off a bus at nearly 2 in the afternoon with a 27 km hike ahead of me – on my first day. Go me!
What was I thinking? Last year, when I went on a high alpine hut-to-hut tour, 14 km was the longest and I was done by the end of the day – even on the shorter hikes. Plus, I had spent weeks training for it. Of course, my reasoning went something like, oh, I was at a high altitude then going up and down mountains, Ireland is flat. Mmh, yeah right. At kilometer 11 my feet let me know, they were ready to arrive soon.
And that is not the only way, dear chaotic brain, where I was totally off my mark. Lunch? Snacks? Who needs that for a hike like this! Also, something that was so carefully planned out on the trip last year. Food sources, along with blister band aids, a cover for my backpack in case it rains… this time, -nada- I guess I am lucky, I had my hiking boots.
The beginning of my trek led me through pastures and neighborhoods on the west coast of Ireland, no supermarkets, no bakeries, two wrong turns, adding even more distance; however, nearly everybody in their car waved at me, so friendly. Luckily the Cliffs of Moher were on my way and they are a huge tourist destination. Admiring the vistas while heading north along the coast, I finally found the tourists starting point. I found food!
With new energy and motivation, I continued on, distracted from my aching feet and tired body by nature. Soon I could see my destination in the distance, still a little hazy, Doolin, but I could see it. When I arrived, there was live music playing at a few locations, it was Doolin’s Folk Fest, who knew? Lucky me! I get my own soundtrack as I triumphantly drag myself through town, inwardly I was beaming with joy.
So where was my B&B? Another 30-minute hike. On my way, I passed a sign that said, food served until 9:30 – it was nearly nine. When I finally arrived at my B&B, exhausted, dirty and starving – my first question was about the sign, was it true for every place? As my welcoming committee confirmed this, I was crushed. There was no way, I was walking back to town now without a shower, and I was not sure I could make this new deadline.
After forcing myself to keep my wonderfully relaxing, invigorating, hot shower extremely short, I was ready in less than 10 minutes. And who should walk through the door at that moment? The lady of the house, she greeted me warmly and looked at me with pity. Her confusion of me walking and not calling to be picked up was clearly written all over her face. As I felt tiredness taking over and tears welling up out of fear I might not eat again today, I couldn’t explain that walking is the point of hiking, but managed to ask her for a ride to the pub.
Arriving with just a few minutes to spare before the kitchen closed, my tension disappeared. Live music had just started playing. The place was packed, the atmosphere good. My one goal for the rest of the evening was to stay off my feet, so I joined some locals at the table right by the door. I managed to point at what my table neighbor was eating that’s what I wanted, too – fish and chips. After a while, the nice folks left and a group of American dads took over the table. Once my hunger was satisfied by this delicious meal and after a patchwork of good conversations the feeling of gratefulness took over. I had found the rhythm. I had found the flow; on the first day. I even got a ride back to the B&B.
Hugs and kisses
Hanna
P.S. Rhythm and flow are closer than you think!