Diary of a long-distance walker, Bernie Comaskey, day 5
Penultimate round over and one man still standing! Though a bit stiffer tonight.
I am here in Bohola, the guest of Canon Joyce, with whom I have just partaken of the most enjoyable dinner. I was later getting here than my projected time of arrival. I am slowing a little and I miscounted the mileage. I told you I had 21 miles to do, but it was nearer 25.
Last night was my first good night’s sleep on the march. I only slept for a total of seven hours the two previous nights. I did wake this morning at 0430, but managed to drift back until 0700.
After a dish of stirabout (porridge to our more refined reader!) and some scrambled egg and toast courtesy of Spellmans, Ballaghaderreen, I hit the road. Before leaving, I received a pledge of sponsorship from Australia, the furthest point to date: a cousin of my sister-in-law, Maura, who reads my stuff online. Good start to the day all round.
I had forgotten that the first four miles were as hairy as anything encountered anywhere else on the journey, and I was glad to see the bypass. There was a stiff breeze blowing into my face – and if you think that doesn’t matter when you’re only walking, in the immortal words of a man who doesn’t live too far from here, one Pauric Flynn, “you should try it sometime!”.
The mornings are cold and I have started wearing a pair of socks on my hands, after having difficulty handling a knife and fork on my stop for breakfast on Tuesday morning. There are no pitstops on this new road I travelled today, but the Plan B I spoke of yesterday was that Pamela came to move my bag and brought me my lunch half way.
Of course I carry bars, bananas and stuff – but nothing like the bit you don’t have to get for yourself! My mother-in-law came with Pamela, knowing full well what a slice of her famous home-baked currant cake would do to me.
I have to say once again that one of the things which depresses me most about our country is the volume and range of rubbish dumped out of cars. You see the full extent of this when you are walking. You will hear lots of talk about patriotism as we approach 2016. Patriotism is doing what you can for your country – little or much; but too many haven’t an ounce of respect or pride in the country they call home.
Told you I get contrary when I get tired!
So here I am in Bohola, having now crossed the 100-mile mark and looking forward to the home straight tomorrow. My bag will be moved as a ‘favour to the cause’, by Jim Hogan Couriers, Westport. There are a lot of good people out there.
...And please don’t forget the few bob...