Diary of a long-distance walker, Bernie Comaskey, day 4
It was near midnight when I went to sleep last night, after having set my alarm for 0400. I was anxious to make headway on the Strokestown to Ballaghadereen road before the heavy traffic (apologies for spelling Ballaghadereen incorrectly on some previous submissions). Michael Crean, the night porter at The Percy French, cooked me scrambled eggs before I left. As he let me out of the hotel, I tried to give him the price of a drink, which was quickly handed back to me for the Patients Comfort Fund. That is the sort of people I am finding. Anyway, I had woken at 0315 and hit the trail at 0420.
The morning was dark. On checking up on it last weekend, I learned that the sun would rise at 0512. Well, it seems that nobody told the sun or it slept in this morning! It was fresh and cold, but not a drop of rain has hit me since I started. I knew it would be a dry week and that's what I told everybody. It was lovely walking at that time, as daybreak brought life to the earth. I was right about little traffic on the road and I got the worst part of it navigated without a blip. I carried a small torch for the first couple of hours.
Drivers are like people... well they are people: Some lovely and considerate and some right reprobates who get a feeling of power from taking the toes off you. I could not allow anger to distract me or soak my energy; but the driver of the first car in a line coming towards you, and who couldn't be bothered to touch his indicator to show those behind – whose sight of a walker is blocked, that there is something to avoid on the road is recklessly inconsiderate. This matters most when a pedestrian has no place left to go. How the use, or not, of the traffic indicator has changed in recent years is one of my hobby-horses. If anybody is interested, I would say that close to half the drivers on the road are on their mobile phones. Then there are the others, and all strangers, who will give you a flash and a wave.
The fact that I left so early and was anxious to progress – not to mention no pit stops place open – meant that I did near 20 miles without stopping. I sure enjoyed that breakfast, where I was joined by my brother, Fehin, who moved my bag today. I had a call from Father Monks during breakfast... among others; and I would like to thank all the people who rang and texted me along the way. But this is not about anything only the money we can collect for The Camillians... not even about indicatorless drivers who just do the minimum loop around you!
I arrived at Spellmans Motel in Ballaghadereen at 1415 and was met by management and staff – including the legendary owner, John himself. John O'Mahony had organised the local GAA club's physio to give me a massage and sure enough Declan McGarry arrived on queue and sorted out my tired muscles and limbs. What a guy, and not only was it free, but Declan paid me! Again, that is the sort if people I am meeting – which would include most of the drivers as well!
I have just finished my four-course dinner – on the house of course. Just thinking, I would do all this for nothing every second week! I feel like sleep... badly in need of sleep, but I have things to do first – like getting this in.
Tomorrow is an easy one. Just 21 miles to Bohola, and a perfect road for walking. Well, nothing is perfect; there are no pit stops on this new road, but Plan B will be sprung. Read all about it here tomorrow!
I am going to take a lie on in the morning. Long lazy breakfast and leave around 0930.
'Isn't life great all the same...'!
– Bernie Comaskey