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Everyday since day 3 I think I’ll struggle to make it to the next town. When I arrive in the next town, completely worn out, I think that is the most I’ve suffered so far and that I couldn’t possible suffer anymore. Of course, I did make it to Kenmare today and I did suffer more than of the previous days (remember that in life, we are always operating well below maximum, we can always cope with more).
I am however getting dangerously close to the edge but maybe just in time with 1-day remaining.
It was a slow start to the day in Sneem. My body was slow, the pack up was slow and it was as though the mind went on strike in solidarity with the body. As is so often the case on this trip, the solution is to pack one thing at a time, take one step at a time (another life lesson).
The day began with a limp to the local pharmacy to try to do a patch up job on my feet. It took two attempts before I got going. Between attempt 1 and 2, the mind had a chance to make you doubt your completion or at least your completion on time (the mind is always trying to dissuade you from more suffering). I got going and found a rhythm with only mild symptoms. Kenmare river looked stunning in the sunshine.
All was going well until the sun became very intense and my feet were sore about 8-km from the town. I had to use every kind of mental trick I knew. I picked a point on the road and worked toward that. I kept promising myself a stop in the shade at the next inlet. There I would check the time and check how far away I was. Ultimately I knew that stopping, checking the time or distance remaining wasn’t going to help me so I just kept going one step at a time. I would say I resembled someone staggering in the road rather than walking. The weight of back-pack was really starting to weigh on my neck and shoulders. Mercifully, I eventually found a centra stop on the edge of the town and I couldn’t bring myself to walk the remaining 600-m into town, so I sat in their seating area with an ice-cream and a drink, looking out the window for nearly an hour.
I’m in Kenmare now with around another 3-km to do to reach wilderness for camping. The trek to Killarney seems impossible right now but no doubt there is always more…
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p.s. a french crowd just asked a Kenmare bar man for an Americano with oat milk but he had only normal milk (LOL!)
Peter Francis 