I Gained the Gift of Eloquence…Apparently

After our hiking adventure we chose to spend the rest of our holiday being traditional tourists and visiting the sights that Cork had to offer.

We were staying at Sheila’s Hostel for a couple of nights to save ourselves a little bit of moolar. It wasn’t as fancy as the brochure makes it look but it did the job. It was in a good location, close to the centre of town and the staff there were friendly and really helpful. We again had a shared room but it ended up being just us two, which was lovely. The place is great for travellers but if you’re looking for somewhere to have a good nights sleep, this isn’t the place for you. The big heavy doors need some kind of mechanism on them to stop them slamming because that is all you hear through the entire building. The only other problem was that our room was windowless, which meant that it got very very warm in there. Oh well…for £15 each, a bed is a bed and we didn’t spend that much time in there anyway.

For our first full day in Cork we decided to catch a coach to Blarney Castle. Nick’s grandparents told us about this earlier on in the year and said it was a must see. It wasn’t too far on the coach, even though my feeties were more than happy for the journey to last longer. It was a glorious sunny day so this was perfect weather to do a bit of sight-seeing. The Blarney Castle was built around 600 years ago and is situated within the most beautiful gardens that you can wander round. As you follow the path up towards the castle, its structure just seems to appear from behind the trees and looks like a scene out of a movie. The path was lined with trees that were wrapped in knitted covers, which was super cute and added a little quirky colour to the surroundings.

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This castle is a partial ruin but you are still able to visit the various rooms which gives you a good idea of how large and grand this building must have been when people were living there. Now the main thing to do when you come to visit the Blarney Castle is kiss the famous Blarney Stone. Legend has it that if you kiss this stone you will be gifted with eloquence. Now I must confess that I had to google this afterwards as I didn’t have a clue what this word meant, but I went and kissed it anyway as the word sounded pretty positive to me. Did they put this stone at the bottom of the castle at an average person’s height? Noooo don’t be silly, they aren’t going to just give this eloquence away. This stone is placed at the top of the castle, but low enough that you have to lie on your back, hold on to two bars and lean yourself back down a hole and stretch your neck out to kiss this smooth rock. Now I’m not the greatest with heights. I’m not terrible, but you know when you get a little wobbly and butterflies in your stomach. I went first whilst Nick had his GoPro rolling. A guy who works there tells you what to do and holds on to you gently as you lean yourself over the edge. I stupidly looked down towards the ground waaaayyyy below me before I kissed the stone. I didn’t realise I would have to stretch so far for it. Now Nick’s turn, he passed me the GoPro and I pointed the camera towards him as he kissed the Blarney stone. Here is where I may have made a little bit of a mistake. I assumed that when Nick passed me the camera that it was still rolling from my stint. Errrr turns out it wasn’t! DOH!

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“crap bags!”

I think I’ve done this before on our travels on one or two occasions and I felt so guilty that I decided to purchase the over priced touristy pictures that were taken. It was the least I could do for missing him in action. I’m pleased I got them though, how cool are they!!!

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For once we weren’t in a hurry to be anywhere or to reach a destination at a certain time so we decided to take advantage of the sunshine and went on a little stroll around the surrounding gardens.

I would definitely recommend a visit to the Blarney Castle if you are ever visiting Cork. I bet these grounds look breathtaking in Autumn when all the leaves have changed colours and the sky is clear.

Hope you enjoyed my little post.

-MooFace-


Links

Sheila’s Hostel – We had a 4 bed room (bunk beds) with an en suite and this cost us £15 each per night.

Blarney Castle – This cost us about £10 each for entry to the Castle and the grounds.

What’s That I Hear You Say? I’ve Been Back From Ireland For Ages and STILL Haven’t Finished These Blog Posts?! Yes I’m Rubbish!

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The Last Leg of The Wicklow Way

With our tents packed up we couldn’t quite believe that this would be our final day of hiking. By the evening we would have completed 100 miles, The Wicklow Way, in just 5 days! For two inexperienced hikers this would be a massive feat. I’m really glad we got to stay in this beautiful little town. It was so quaint with the bunting everywhere and the small local shops.

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We headed off in the direction of our final destination, Clonegal. Just 15 miles to go. The sun was shining and the path was mostly flat, which was lovely. However, even with such flat terrain, after 4 days of intense hiking our bodies were struggling. Every sign we passed we were counting down the miles and trying to predict how long we had left. After the first 5 miles we took cover from the midday sun and let our feet breathe. The thick socks and crazy heat had caused my feet to break out in heat rash. Grim! I let my feet enjoy the breeze and wriggle room for a while until the sun started its long decent. As much as I didn’t want to I had to put my poor feeties back in their boot cages ready for the next 10 miles. Just 10 miles to go!

We hit a long straight road, it was so long that we couldn’t even see where it would end. These past two road walking days were very different to the earlier days. Not only because of the terrain, but the effect that this terrain had on our motivation and our moods. The paths were easier on our bodies, but the views were not as breathtaking and distracting from the task of hiking. My feet were happy for the Tarmac below them, but my brain missed the valleys, the breeze whipping my hair across my face and the challenges of getting across to the next map marker.

About half way down this long old road a car passed us and pulled over just ahead. A very kind lady offered us a lift to the next town. We looked at each and then back at her, our heads slowly turned to the comfy empty seats that lay just behind her. It was so tempting but we had come too far to bail now. We thanked her but declined the offer. As she drove away we wondered whether we had made the right decision. I’m happy to say we did.

At the next junction we decided to have a little lunch break. Gas cooker, flavoured rice, water…done! I lay back on my bag, just listening to the sound of the world go by, staring at the sparse clouds that littered the sky. I was actually starting to enjoy this outdoor living. I kind of felt like I did when I was travelling round Asia. Nothing to worry about but getting to our next destination. I am really looking forward to planning our BIG travelling adventure. We still haven’t ironed out the details…but we will be very soon.

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After packing up our lunch things, we headed down the road and reached a cross roads. Were my eyes deceiving me?! Could it be? There was a sign for Clonegal and it actually said “1 mile to go”. If we could have sprinted there we would have. We did pick up the pace a little though…well as much as our legs would actually let us.

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Before we knew it, there it was “Welcome to Clonegal” We hugged the sign with such excitement! We’d only gone and bloody done it!! 100 miles in 5 days! We had completed The Wicklow Way!

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With no pubs open, what with it being in the middle of the afternoon in a tiny village we parked up on a bench next to this gorgeous river and admired our surroundings. Such a lovely little place to finish our hiking adventure in.

We were informed by some fellow Wicklow Way hikers that the only place where we would be able to catch a coach to Cork, was in a town 4 miles away! The thought of walking another 4 miles sent shivers through my body. The two hikers were staying over night in Clonegal and getting up early to head to Bunclody. We couldn’t face getting up super super early for another morning of walking and we just wanted to kind of get it out the way. So with our bags and boots back on we headed south. This time however we wouldn’t be turning down any lift offers and actually stuck our thumbs out to hitch a ride. I have never done this in my life and never thought I would!

After about 10 minutes of cars passing us by I gave up on the idea of this actually working. I kept sticking my thumb out though, just in case. As we struggled up a steep hill a small car passed us….and actually pulled over at the top. It had only gone and bloody worked. Irish people…you guys rock!!! This guy, probably around my age, was also heading to Bunclody and said he was happy to take us! YES! So we all got chatting…you know, the usual conversation questions. Where have you been? Names? Where have you come from? When I mentioned Essex he looked back at me in the review mirror:

“You don’t live near Bas Vegas do you?”

Now only people from Essex seem to know of and ever call Basildon Festival Leisure Park, Bas Vegas!

“Er…I actually don’t live that far from there. How do you know of Bas Vegas?”

It turns out he had lived in London and Kent for years and had often visited friends in Basildon. I mentioned I went to university in Kent and…small bloody world…we had both gone to the same art institute around the same time.

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He was a wicked guy and told us the best places to head to for dinner and areas to avoid when he dropped us off. Driver man, who ever you are, I thank you dearly!

After dinner the guy behind the bar told us of a park that we could camp in that wouldn’t be any trouble. This was my least favourite wild camp of them all. It wasn’t like a foresty park, it was a football/rugby park where a lot of people walked their dogs and carried out their evening jogs. I didn’t feel sheltered from prying eyes and felt very uneasy as I got into my tent. Nick kindly gave me some weapons to help me feel safer. A mini shovel and a swiss army knife that looked like it had come out of a Christmas cracker, I think it did actually come out of a cracker last year. It would have to do! I fell asleep hugging my defensive weapons of choice.

I felt much better in the morning once all my stuff was packed up and my wild camping days had come to an end. The next part of our holiday was much more traditional in the way of a city break. A coach to Cork to take in the sights, the food and the local booze!

Hiking mission – DONE!

-MooFace-

Day 3 & 4 – A Tough Old Slog

Sorry for the delay in my blog posts, I know I said I wouldn’t drag these out but these last couple of weeks have been just plain crazy hectic! Still trying to find the balance between working, socialising, blogging and I now have two new skills I want to learn but I will reveal these in another blog. Ooooo intrigued? So to continue with these Irish adventures…

Day 3: Lough Dan – Glenmalure

I awoke slightly groggy, cold and keen to get packed up and back on the road. I accidentally didn’t zip my sleeping bag up fully, so the chill woke me up during the wee hours of the morning. I also made the mistake of placing my backpack at the bottom of tent so I wasn’t able to stretch out fully. Something I duly noted for my next wild camp. Once up and packed away and with our tummies rumbling we decided we wanted some proper grub for brunch so we headed off in the direction of Laragh. After some food we would then continue onwards to Glenmalure. The flies returned with a vengeance and tormented us for the first hour of up hill climbing. It was safe to say that I wasn’t in the best of moods.

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After the climb we steeply descended into a little forested area just outside Laragh. A quaint wooden bridge crossed a pretty little river and we decided to explore this beautiful spot and clambered over the rocks for a cheeky photo opportunity.

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Laragh is a small picturesque village with only about 360 residents along with many Wicklow way hikers coming and going. Not far down the road we found a lovely little restaurant with outdoor seating so chucked off our bags, took a seat and ordered two pints of Guinness without even perusing the menu. Our first genuine Irish Guinnesses and my god did they taste good. I ordered lasagne, garlic bread and chips for lunch and it tasted like the best food I’d ever eaten. Screw you Nutrigrain bars!!! I sat there with a gigantic grin on my face as I enjoyed my gorgeous carbtastic meal.

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Content in the moment, chatting away about the journey so far and enjoying each sip of the stouty goodness, we soon forgot where we were and our mission for the day. We still had 15 odd miles to cover before the sun went down. We begrudgingly downed the remainder of our pints, paid the bill and got back on the road.

I don’t know if it was the lack of sleep, my achy legs or my belly full of Guinness but I struggled! It may have been all these things?! The Wicklow Way crosses the main valley floor in Glendalough and the gradual incline soon turns into a strenuous steep climb up large stone steps along side the Poulanass waterfall. I didn’t even have the strength to admire this view, which was such a shame. I just kept my head down, the sweat joining my tired tears as they dripped off my nose. I had to really push myself up to the top. Once past the waterfall the path continued to climb but not at such a dramatic gradient. Nick saw my tear-stained face and suggested we took a break. He asked me what was wrong and I literally just burst out crying. I had no energy, no drive and the number of miles we still had to cover over the next couple of days was really playing on my mind.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to do this. I’m so tired and my legs and feet are killing me”

After a cuddle and a nutrigrain bar I had calmed down enough to carry on. This was a tough day. The path just continued to climb, weaving back and forth, snaking up the mountain side. The gigantic trees seemed to home in on us, blocking any form of view and restricting any glimpse of a potential peak. I could see that Nick was starting to struggle too. We were so tired and the lack of view and conversation meant we only had one thing to think about and that was walking. One foot in front of the other. With the silence that surrounded us, our footsteps sounded like a marching beat. We tried to keep to this rhythm and pace to keep us going. Left, Right, Left, Right, Keep, Going, Keep, Going!

After what felt like a lifetime the trees started to thin and eventually gave way to the most refreshing chill and the breathtaking view of the valleys far below.

HighUp Sheep

At the beginning of this climb, down in the valley, we were surrounded by hundreds of day walkers, bagless and carefree. As we ventured further and further up the numbers dwindled and people were replaced with sheep. Greeting us with their baaass and one even decided to follow us for a bit. This brought back memories of going to Wales when I was younger. My auntie and uncle lived in a small seaside town, but they lived further up a mountain track. After dinners we would often take walks up into the mountains to walk off the yummy food and feed the local sheep.

My silent prayers were answered and the path started to descend down these giant stone steps. I let gravity do its thing and let the weight of the day carry me to the bottom of the next valley. Suddenly we came across a road and that meant only one thing…we were close to Glenmalure, our stop for the day! We were meant to be wild camping that evening but we both had had such a strenuous day that we caved as soon as we saw the sign for the Glenmalure Lodge.

“I don’t care what it costs, I will put it on my credit card. I just need a shower and a nice comfy bed for the night” I said to Nick

It was the cutest little place and our room was actually rather large with a power shower and a bed so comfortable I almost forfeited going to dinner to just lie there. I’m glad I didn’t though. This image below was my burger…..how awesome is that?! Not just a normal burger, a burger with all the tasty trimmings piled on top. We spent the evening eating, drinking and celebrating finishing such a tough day.

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Day 4: Glenmalure – Tinahely (The Big One)

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I slept soooooo well and felt 100 times better about what lay ahead of us. After a lovely breakfast we headed out into the sunshine and made our way…UP! aw man you had to be kidding me!! Yep we headed up hill to our first peak of the day. This was also another scorcher of a day (I thought Ireland was supposed to be rainy and cold). There wasn’t much shade about so any we did come across we would take shelter and rehydrated.

This climb only lasted about 45 mins which was very short compared to yesterday. A breeze decided to join us and I felt in good spirits. I eyed up the path ahead and knew today would be a beautiful one.

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I looked over to see Nick’s head down and pain on his face. His boots had caused many blisters from the previous days and even though they were bandaged up the pain was obvious. I tried to keep the conversation light to take his mind off it until I knew he just wanted some peace and quiet to push through. I popped my headphones in and just passed through the miles, walking in time with the tunes.

At around 1pm we came across a little patch of grass next to the road with little boulders to perch our bums on. We thought it was probably a good idea to get out of the sun and refuel for the second half of the day. Nick seemed to perk up as his feet gave up complaining so much, knowing they would not be getting any rest any time soon. After a little Irish jig in the road, no kidding, we thought best to carry on.

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I love the homes they have around this area of Ireland. They are either these perfect, American looking houses with massive drives, show home style gardens and panoramic views or they are these cute cottages painted in cray cray colours. Look at the one below. Now I love the colour green but I would never think to myself…I’m going to paint my entire cottage and surrounding walls bright green. Hats off to this home owner though. So many different colours were dotted around the tiny villages, I loved it! It reminded me a bit of The Wizard of Oz.

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After we hit the 20 mile mark I realised that this was the furthest I’ve ever walked in one go. The pain in my toes and my shins was getting worse but I continued to hobble along knowing I only had a couple more miles to go! I could just about lift my feet off the floor. When I saw the sign for Tinahely I almost cried. When I saw the pub I actually did cry. These were tears of joy and pain at the same time.

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The barman in the pub was such a gem, he showed us to a table and brought us two big pints of water straight away along with 2 menus. I ordered Guinness and beef stew and Nick ordered fish and chips. It was GORGEOUS! It was so rich and filling. Really perked me up after completing this 22 mile day!

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Camp

The barman asked if we already had somewhere booked for the night. When we told him we were looking to camp he very kindly informed us of a field near by that a lot of Wicklow Way hikers stayed in with no trouble at all. I’m still taken aback by the kindness and generosity of the Irish folk. I can’t imagine being able to wild camp so easily in England. As the sun started to descend we pitched our tents and got ourselves ready for bed. It was a little weird camping in a field where people could see us so easily. The sound of cars passing over the bridge reminded me a little of home and it wasn’t long before I curled my tired achy feet into my sleeping bag (backpack at the side of me this time :p) and drifted off into the land of nod.

Only 1 more day of walking to go…1 more day.

To be continued…

-MooFace-

Day 1 – Forests, Flies and Up Hill Climbs

“We are now approaching Dublin Port”

I felt like I’d only just closed my eyes when I heard the tannoy blare out above our heads. After a frosty four hour power nap we were up and ready, kind of, for the first big day ahead of us.

Dropped off in Dublin city centre we searched around for a source of nourishment. Something that would be open at 6am, that would help give us energy for the mountains that laid ahead and keep the hunger at bay. Of course the only thing open at this time in the morning was McDonalds. Ok not quite what we needed but it would have to do. With our bellies full and my heart warmed with a cup of tea, we set off in the direction of Marley Park. This was the official starting point of the Wicklow Way. Our start was just under 6 miles away. Just 6 miles.

With the excitement of what lay ahead of us, we had a spring in our step as we followed our guide book. We were so pleased with ourselves when we found the next part of the route that was noted down. The day was overcast but surprisingly warm and it wasn’t long before we had shed our coats and long sleeved tops.

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After about an hour we found a little park that had some toilet facilities that we could freshen up in. As we approached we parted ways. Myself into the side marked ‘Fir’ and Nick walked into the side marked ‘Mna’. It wasn’t until I saw (well I actually smelt them first) the urinals, that I realised why a passing woman had looked at us with such a bemused expression. Note: Fir and Mna isn’t as easy as male and female. Something we duely noted for the rest of our trip.

Before entering Marley Park, we stocked up at the local Lidl with extra bottles of water and a few cheeky snacks to pack into our pockets so we could pick at them along the way. This was it, around 10:00am and we were starting the Wicklow Way. 100 miles were stretched out ahead of us and we were ready to rock. Small snag…longitude festival was setting up, so the first mile of the trek was slightly detoured around the edge of the park rather than going through it. We hoped this wasn’t a sign of things to come. We had been following a path with a gradual incline since we left Dublin centre but the gradient got visibley steeper. The people and busy roads fell away behind us.

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After another couple of hours we paused for a quick, but the first of many, nutrigrain bar breaks and to admire how far we had already come. It was weird thinking that only that morning we had stared at this mountain, slightly worried that it would take us forever to get up there. But here we were, looking down at our starting point, way in the distance. We beamed, proud of ourselves, even though our lack of experience hiking was apparent with our sweat sodden clothes and glistening faces. Many older walkers past us, beaming smiles and bone dry hiking ensembles. It was because we were carrying large heavy bags, that is what I kept telling myself anyway.

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Steeper and steeper this first Wicklow Way mountain grew. The giant stone steps protruding from the hillside seemed to be never ending. It felt like its summit was unreachable. But before we knew it, the ground levelled out and we had made it to Fairy Castle. I knew we had higher mountains to climb over the next week, even that day, and I started to doubt my abilities to complete this massive task I’d taken on. Luckily, for the first time that day, we had the joyous task of heading down hill. Now I was able to appreciate the views more, rather than looking down and willing my legs to keep going. As the route levelled out and our path lead us down a mountain hugging road, we watched as cars whizzed past us in a blur. The breathtaking scenery did not. It slowly met us, allowing us to admire it and take it all in. The colours, the smells, so fresh compared to every day London living. City living where even a bike ride is consumed with chaos, pollution and the need for speed.

The peak we had conquered before was just the beginning. We reach the start of Prince William’s Seat…a 550 metre up hill battle. Unlike our first climb, we didn’t have the same Dublin views. This winding path was thinner and lined with thick fir trees. Our only view was the sandy gravel as we bowed our heads and pushed through the thick heat. Now because we were in a forest area and we probably didn’t smell the best at that moment in time, we were being tormented and followed by hundreds of flies. It was like something out of a cartoon. Me and Nick continued to smile and chatted about the day so far. This also helped distract us from the dull ache in our legs and the buzzing in our ears.

We heard a rustling coming from the path up ahead of us. As we looked up we were faced with the beautiful sight of two large deers staring at us. They were as surprised to see us as we were them and they quickly carried on across the path and darted out of sight. As fleeting as our encounter was, it definitely made the day.

At the peak of this mountain I decided that a night of wild camping just wasn’t going to make tomorrow a good day for either of us. A fellow hiker we met informed us of a hostel in the tiny village of Knockree. This hostel was right on the Wicklow Way path and was a well known stop for hikers. This sounded perfect.

After 20 long miles we came across the Knockree Hostel, a “5 star” converted farmhouse overlooking the Glencree mountains. It had 5 star prices for sure but I wouldn’t say this was exactly 5 star accommodation. However the bunk beds and showers were a very welcome sight after our long day. We were also lucky that nobody else was booked in or turned up to share the room with us. We had our pick of the beds.

After a gourmet meal of a self catered rice dinner and packets of crisps for dessert we curled our achey legs into bed and I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I was still slightly worried about whether we would actually manage the next 80 miles but I was sure proud of our achievements for that first day. The day of forests, flies and up hill climbs.

To Be Continued…

-MooFace-

 

In Coach Entertainment – London to Holyhead

I’m going to start off the Irish Adventure blogs with this little beauty. It’s not an insightful post about breathe taking views along the M6 but a cracker of a story about some of our fellow coach buddies. This is the tale of feet, fights and frustration.

Just our luck that the day we had booked our coach was actually the hottest day of the year so far. We stood melting at the bus terminal, desperately wanting to board the bus so we could find relief from the heat with the air conditioning. Sadly the AC was warm and pitiful. It was like having a Labrador gently pant on your face. When I say face, the AC controls wouldn’t actually span to reach where a person’s face would be, but just fell on to the top of the seat in front. It was going to be a long and stuffy coach ride for sure.

Now the girl behind me decided that the best way to pass the time on this long 8 hour journey would be to chat loudly to her mum on the phone right behind my face. Constantly kicking the back of my chair as she wriggled around in her uncomfortable seat. That’s when it appeared. Out of the corner of my eye I saw something move in through the small gap at the side of me. Nudging my elbow with such stealth. It was…this girl’s bare sweaty foot! AAHHHHHhhhh cringe!

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I just stared at it, her toes wriggling with the freedom from her shoes. My whole body just slid towards Nick, pressed against him I just couldn’t look away. Like a deer caught in the headlights. My eyes wide, I didn’t want to take my eyes of it in case it came closer. Luckily my announcement of disgust to Nick must have been overheard by this foot’s owner and it quickly whipped back to the personal space where it belonged never to be seen again. Phew! I can’t stand my own feet let alone other people’s and on hot sweaty days it’s even worse! Ew!

I thought the foot saga was over, however that was just the beginning. Let me introduce to Constable Dry. This older gentleman was American and resembled a teenage skater. I think he felt so at home in this oven on wheels that he decided to hang his sweaty socks on the back of the chair in front, turning them every so often to get maximum airing. If this wasn’t grim enough, he then pulled out a mini first aid kit, brought one of his feet on to his lap and worked away at his nails and blisters. Awwww come on, seriously! I shrank in my seat, keeping myself well within my chair comfort zone, praying that no foot remains would fly off in my direction.

Nick had warned me when we queued for the bus that last time he was on one of these cheap coaches that there were a lot of “interesting” people on board. Now the true stars of the coach show were two lovely girls who we named Hulk and Yan. We both knew they would be entertaining coach companions when they barged their way through the isle to the back seats carrying a massive crate of cider and a big bottle of cheap plonk. A couple of hours in you could hear that the alcohol was taking affect. As they chatted loudly to each other, we couldn’t help but listen. Well they didn’t really give us much choice. They bickered about past fights with each other and started blaming each other for the way they act after one too many Lambrinis. The bickering soon turned into arguing. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they end up having a full blown fight” I said to Nick. But they soon quietened down and carried on consuming their beverages.

Our first stop was to be in Manchester, to drop some people off and to pick up new people who were heading for the ferry. We were about half an hour away when Yan started yelling from the back to the driver. “Stop this bus, I want a fag!” “You can’t keep us on here forever” “Why aren’t you going to Manchester, are you a fucking idiot?” These rants continued for a good 10 mins before she decided to wake up a passed out Hulk. Scuffling and yelling could then be heard from the back. As everyone turned around, we were all faced with a full blown fight. Yan was leaning over Hulk and laying into her. Hulk was positioned on her back and was driving her foot straight into the chest and face of Yan. Some guys near by tried to pull them apart but there was no stopping them. As Yan turned around to face the rest of us we were shockingly greeted by two large, rather beaten breasts! Yep you read that right, her boobs had fallen out of her dress. As she drunkenly swayed, she stuffed them back in and continued to fight. The bus finally pulled over and the commotion settled. As the driver made his way to the back of the bus, Yan, with just one boob out this time, grabbed her bags and declared that she was vacating. Again she elegantly put her right boob back in its place, grabbed the bottle of plonk and made her way to the bus stop situated just outside of Manchester city centre. They must have been heading to the city for a night out with friends or something, least she didn’t have far to go. Hulk, opened a fresh tinny and sank back in to her seat.

In Manchester as we waited for the new passengers to finish boarding, we realised that Hulk was still with us. She wasn’t terminating here but carrying on to Holyhead and I’m guessing the ferry to Ireland…without Yan. So Yan was stuck on the out skirts of Manchester, over 2 hours away from the ferry port, on her own. I’m sure that when the alcohol wore off and the bruises took hold she would definitely be regretting leaving the coach. When the bus engine came back to life after it’s brief rest, everyone took their places and attempted to get “comfortable” to catch a couple of hours sleep before the early morning ferry. Hulk re-boarded the bus and to my shock she was carrying ANOTHER box of cider. Why on earth would she feel the need for more booze, and she was drinking alone this time. Me and Nick prayed that she would just fall into a sleepy boozy state for the rest of the journey. 

“MMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAA” “AAAAHHHHHHH” *chewbacca noises*

we were all awoken by what I can only describe as a wookiee being strangled, and the unfortunate sound of cans being crushed and thrown around. I slowly looked around to the rear of the sauna mobile to see these two legs on the floor between the chairs. They were flailing around and by the sounds of it, the rest of her body was doing the same. She was wearing a green mini dress, and all the writhing around on the floor had caused her drunken arse to escape the hem line. Boobs and bum in one coach journey, what a treat ay! ha ha. All the booze had caused her to turn into this monster, in to…the hulk. A girl seated near by to her, just leaned in and said “You’re a disgrace”  Everyone was sick of her antics and was just desperate for this journey to be over. She continued to moan, drink and fall around on the floor until we got to our final destination.

I quickly packed up my belongs and got off the bus as soon as I could. I was met by the cool welsh air, which was such a relief from the stuffy heat. As I went to check us in for the ferry, Nick hung around outside the coach to see what would happen to the hulk. Would she have to be carried off? Would the police turn up? Would she hulk smash her way through the side of the coach? No, weirdly she just casually walked off like nothing had happened. Her dress was back in its place, her bags on her back, she just wandered off care free in the opposite direction to the ferry port.

Hulk-vs-Loki-06

she said to the coach driver

Where the hell was she going? I do hope Yan and Hulk found each other again.

I know it sounds like I have made all this up. How can all this happen in just one coach journey?!? I can assure you that these events did actually take place on our journey. Why not give it a go…take one long megabus journey and see what stories unfold. hehe.

After a quick freshen up, teeth cleaned and hair brushed we were ready for the next leg of our journey.

…to be continued

-MooFace-

Can You Guinness Where I’m Heading To?

The last time me and the fella got post holiday blues we found ourselves in the door way of STA travel with our debit cards in our hands and adventure in our hearts. We spontaneously booked a pair of return flights for Bangkok with the plan to spend 6 1/2 weeks travelling through Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia and back to the Thai islands to finish of our whistle stop tour. This was actually before getting it approved at work. “Yes that’s approved, you two can book your flights now” Ermmm yeah sure, it’s not like we had already done that, that would be crazy, right?!

If you’d like to read all about those adventures you can find them on my fella’s blog that I used to share with him before I ventured out into the world of moo. His writing is hilarious and very clever, I’m sure you’ll enjoy sugartothebrain. You’ll have to venture back to late 2012 early 2013 for these shenanigans…but feel free to read through his other stuff as well.

So this week it wasn’t so much holiday blues but constant work blues. After a pretty stressful end/start to this year, only managing to find time for a short break in Paris before literally getting back and moving flat, we haven’t stopped working since. Our Asia adventure meant that upon returning early last year we were only left with 6 working days to last us 11 months!! 11 months!!!! In our industry even having bank holidays off is a rare gem of a treat. When the New Year bells tolled we were blessed once again with 20 whole glorious days to take. Flashes of white sandy beaches, cocktails by the pool and reading my kindle in the sunshine flashed before my eyes. I could already feel the sun on my skin. However because we are saving for our BIG adventure, our holidays this year would have to be small and budgeted. It is now July and it got to the point where we both just needed a week off, away from our dark office rooms and bright monitors to get some fresh air, recharge our batteries and clear our minds of particle caches, render farm errors and deadlines.

Let’s walk across Ireland”

Said my fella with such eagerness. He got so excited by this idea that he pretty much started planning it in his head before I even had a chance to process this challenge. He wasn’t surprised to have his idea met by a wide eyed vacant look.

hum

Walk across Ireland….as a holiday….for 7 days. Was he mad? He tried doing this a few years ago but decided to do it in October when the weather was atrocious. I still remember his daily texts about rain, blisters and cold nights in his tent. This was not really my idea of a holiday.

He knew it would take much persuading to get me to agree to do this, but he has some kind of special ability to sell ideas to me. 90% of the time I’m so glad he has as they have turned out to be brilliant ideas. At work I was bombarded with google map links, pictures of rolling green hills and idyllic locations that we could see on our way and many messages telling me how amazing it would be. He was slowly changing my mind. Mmm it could be quite nice to get out the city and go exploring. There he did it, before I knew it we had the week booked off and the coach tickets purchased.

LetsDoThis

So…the plan of action. We will be catching a coach there on a Friday afternoon. My plan is to take many packets of sweets, some tunes and maybe a couple of travel sickness tablets to help me nod off. My friends will agree when I say I don’t really need these, I can sleep through anything and anywhere much to their annoyance, but just to be on the safe side. I need to be full of energy when we get there. We shall arrive in Dublin in the wee hours of the Saturday morning where, after a can of redbull, we shall venture south and head straight out of the city. Hopefully the sun would have just graced us with it’s presence so this should be a nice start to the adventure. Our route will hopefully take us 7 days, down past Wicklow Mountains National Park, through Waterford and with any luck end up in Cork the following Saturday. After a day of exploring this city, and a night in a hotel with an actual BED, we will be heading back to Dublin on the train for our last day of Irish antics before getting the coach back to foggy London town. Arriving at 8am Monday we will be going straight to work HA HA! Sounds crazy right?

I am beyond nervous though. When I was younger I never went on camping holidays and at festivals I am always one of the weirdos who is up at 6am with a terrible hangover just so I can get a warm shower. We will be wild camping, each having a solo tent (this bummed me out a little at first) so toilet facilities and showers will have to be au natural in the wilderness. I really need to locate my unused she-wee that I bought for travels.

The world is your toilet Steph!

– My fella

I’m annoyingly not one of those people that look good in the wilderness. I can’t seem to get away with having greasy hair and a baby wiped face. My barnett doesn’t go all wavy and beachy like and me trying to attempt a french braid is liking asking a dog to separate skittles. I may have to ask one of my talented friends at work to do it before I leave and try and keep it in for the whole 7 days, just layering on the dry shampoo each morning. Think this will work? Me neither ha ha.

nope

So I’ve purchased a few essentials: a pair of hiking boots, waterproof trousers (it’s Ireland, I’m bound to need these), a waterproof jacket, a nice warm fleece for those chillier evenings and a new sleeping bag as my current one is so old and thin that I might as well wrap myself in cling film, would probably work better. I’ve picked up my travelling backpack and have made a neat little hiking pile on the floor of our flat. I have to admit, as nervous as I am, I am rather excited. A whole week, just me and him and the friendly people of Ireland that we meet along the way.

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So what do you guys think? Any camping style advice? Any Irish sites we should visit along the way? Anybody actually done this before? All comments/advice are very welcome.

-MooFace-