Knocknarea Circular Walk. 27/06/17
This was a nice walk, a little under the 10 miles or, as Annie says in real measurements, about 15.2 km. As she was occupied with house / children sitting for the earlier part of the day we did not set of until near 4 pm. A typical Irish day regarding the weather, a bit of softness about it with just enough sun there to keep us optimistic. After parking up the Booger Mobile at the car park for Knocknarea we set off back down the road making our way to Strandhill village. Starting the circuit from this direction I believe you get the least pleasant part of the walk out of the way first. It is about 2.5 miles to the edge of the village and for a little over a mile of that ( 1.7 km ) you are on the main road, which at the weekend can be pretty busy so you can find yourself crossing from one verge to another to stay of the road. However once you do reach the village it is a beautiful mixed walk from there. As you do so I rather love tipsy pub signs, it makes one think: Should I or Shouldn't I? We didn't.
Turn left at Kelly's Bar and head down through the village to the beach. Don't turn too fast or you could end up in Kelly's and the day could end up as Pints and Taxi's instead of nice scenery and odd Germans. Turning left at the cannon I followed my warrioress like companion to the right. ( Now that just not make any sense, I believe tonight's wine is kicking in.) Annie had made this part of the walk several times, me never, so she fearlessly led the way ready to brush aside any slow moving Sunday walkers ( the older the better in her opinion ) and show her scary Halloween face ( which is very similar to her normal face ) to any unsuspecting children that happened to be enjoying themselves.
Following the coastal path you pass by the underused Sligo Airport ( god be with the days when you could get a €20 flight from here to Dublin or pay an extra fiver and travel on to Manchester ) ( all government subsidised of course; these are the little thing we miss about Fianna Fail ) and then on to Killaspugbrone Church and graveyard “the church of the Bishop Brón”. We stopped here for some ginger cordial, nuts, seeds, nearly not too strong coffee and talked about how some fool had forgotten to bring their hip flask. Now the German with me is a bit daft, actually kinda loopers, but in this case I was the fool.
There is a nice history about Killaspugbrone here: http://gostrandhill.com/explore/places-of-interest/killaspugbrone-church/
So refreshed we made our way inland alongside the airport runway. It is a little over a mile from here ( feck the km's) to the start of the northern path which leads to the ascent.
Along the way we had a few encounters.
Our first was very interesting: We met the foundations of a house, now I hear you say how do you meet a house. How many times have you heard it said that houses have character, personalities, quirks, so I am not too sure what I am saying here but we were walking...there it was...we met it...and it did not run away.
It turned out it was designed with Annie in mind.... it had no doors. So nowhere to put the Welcome Mat down. Take the hint.
I took a photograph of her doing imaginary dirty dishes.....her favourite kind of dirty dishes.
Next we met up with Susan, who is out taking note of our wild Irish flora, she is taking part of a course that I am also meant to be participating in. We did talk about some plant that she had spotted that may, or may not, belong to a particular family. Or something or other like that. So to alleviate the guilt I was not feeling we will move on to our next encounter.
Well there it was; a plane trying to land on Annie's head, look at the photograph.
I assume he saw the cracks and fissures beneath the surface decided quite rightly to abort, it could have meant entering the Twilight Zone or quite possibly thought the implications of landing on the head of Angela Merkel's favourite niece may have an adverse effect to the surrounding area. Strandhill airport may be hit my harsh German words ( not nice, German words are not nice at the best of times but the harsh ones, well they are just very, very harshish ) and they may even confiscate the cannon ( now that would not be fair, how can Strandhill defend itself against the next invasion of Spanish students ).
And next up there was the Donkeys.
Fortunately these guys were related to the ones we met on our midnight walk to Coney Island last week so they recognised the import, I think the hair is a giveaway, and backed away from what they may see as a possible schnitzel maker.
Wise move guys....I do not believe she is a schnitzel maker ( then again let me thing about that a bit less ) but she just could be contagious.
So shortly after this we reach the petrol station and cross the road, turn to the right and start the walk heading for auld Maeve. It is a steady climb from here and although there are steps to make the going easier it is no gentle climb. Expect a bit of sweat and mild struggle. It makes for great training, unless of course you are training to make something like cakes, crosswords, chess moves or something, then not recommended.
As you climb up you are rewarded with amazing views whether looking forward or back.
Me.... as we started the climb.....well I was rewarded with laughter.
Not too sure how it came about but there was a mention of someone (me) falling back down the steps we had just climbed. And bearing in mind that it had not being an easy climb. Apparently some foreigner found this so hilarious they could not stop laughing for 5 minutes. In the meantime I take a telephone call from my Mum, who is on a weekend break from retirement, and wants to tell me about the amazing evening sun she is watching over Lough Swilly bay. She ask about the laughter in the background....am I at a party? No I answer I am just listening to the death knell of a strange friendship. ( Actually, to tell the truth I told her the truth, which also involved people in wheelchairs getting squirted with a platypus'.)
If Annie was normal you would say that the cause of her brain going in that direction was down to the thinning air...but truth be told we had not climbed that high and well the last of her normality possibly left on a Fianna Fail subsidised flight a few years back.
So once her happy time was over we moved on. Step after step. While it is not too difficult I did find it a bit hard at times, not so much because of the 6 mile we had just covered, but more down to the 8 - 9 kilo's I was lugging along on my back ( no I was not carrying Annie; that would be more like 8o kilo ). Any walk I covered this year I was purposely bringing along an extra few kilos so I would be prepared for hiking in Crete this year. I would have 2, possibly 3, hikes where I would be carrying all my gear on my back. Last year I went well prepared for the hikes and reaped the benefits. No blisters throughout the holidays and no morning did I wake up thinking it was dying time.
From the road to Queen Maeve's Mound it is about a mile and a half, we to the hour, that was allowing for laughing time and also Annie exploring a very big hole in the mountain. She went in she looked and climbed back out stating that yes, it was indeedy, a very big hole.
Once we did reach Q.M's. M. we went looking for a place to eat our pasta that was out of the wind. Still following the fearless warrioress she found a partially sheltered spot on the North East side, pity it meant having to climb nearly half way down the mountain.
**Note for next walk ....Don't let the import lead.**
So meal over, table cleared and dishes done we once again climb back up the mountain for our wee jive.
goo.gl/fHbfmz
So back to the Booger Mobile and home.
Turn left at Kelly's Bar and head down through the village to the beach. Don't turn too fast or you could end up in Kelly's and the day could end up as Pints and Taxi's instead of nice scenery and odd Germans. Turning left at the cannon I followed my warrioress like companion to the right. ( Now that just not make any sense, I believe tonight's wine is kicking in.) Annie had made this part of the walk several times, me never, so she fearlessly led the way ready to brush aside any slow moving Sunday walkers ( the older the better in her opinion ) and show her scary Halloween face ( which is very similar to her normal face ) to any unsuspecting children that happened to be enjoying themselves.
Following the coastal path you pass by the underused Sligo Airport ( god be with the days when you could get a €20 flight from here to Dublin or pay an extra fiver and travel on to Manchester ) ( all government subsidised of course; these are the little thing we miss about Fianna Fail ) and then on to Killaspugbrone Church and graveyard “the church of the Bishop Brón”. We stopped here for some ginger cordial, nuts, seeds, nearly not too strong coffee and talked about how some fool had forgotten to bring their hip flask. Now the German with me is a bit daft, actually kinda loopers, but in this case I was the fool.
There is a nice history about Killaspugbrone here: http://gostrandhill.com/explore/places-of-interest/killaspugbrone-church/
So refreshed we made our way inland alongside the airport runway. It is a little over a mile from here ( feck the km's) to the start of the northern path which leads to the ascent.
Along the way we had a few encounters.
Our first was very interesting: We met the foundations of a house, now I hear you say how do you meet a house. How many times have you heard it said that houses have character, personalities, quirks, so I am not too sure what I am saying here but we were walking...there it was...we met it...and it did not run away.
It turned out it was designed with Annie in mind.... it had no doors. So nowhere to put the Welcome Mat down. Take the hint.
I took a photograph of her doing imaginary dirty dishes.....her favourite kind of dirty dishes.
Next we met up with Susan, who is out taking note of our wild Irish flora, she is taking part of a course that I am also meant to be participating in. We did talk about some plant that she had spotted that may, or may not, belong to a particular family. Or something or other like that. So to alleviate the guilt I was not feeling we will move on to our next encounter.
Well there it was; a plane trying to land on Annie's head, look at the photograph.
I assume he saw the cracks and fissures beneath the surface decided quite rightly to abort, it could have meant entering the Twilight Zone or quite possibly thought the implications of landing on the head of Angela Merkel's favourite niece may have an adverse effect to the surrounding area. Strandhill airport may be hit my harsh German words ( not nice, German words are not nice at the best of times but the harsh ones, well they are just very, very harshish ) and they may even confiscate the cannon ( now that would not be fair, how can Strandhill defend itself against the next invasion of Spanish students ).
And next up there was the Donkeys.
Fortunately these guys were related to the ones we met on our midnight walk to Coney Island last week so they recognised the import, I think the hair is a giveaway, and backed away from what they may see as a possible schnitzel maker.
Wise move guys....I do not believe she is a schnitzel maker ( then again let me thing about that a bit less ) but she just could be contagious.
So shortly after this we reach the petrol station and cross the road, turn to the right and start the walk heading for auld Maeve. It is a steady climb from here and although there are steps to make the going easier it is no gentle climb. Expect a bit of sweat and mild struggle. It makes for great training, unless of course you are training to make something like cakes, crosswords, chess moves or something, then not recommended.
As you climb up you are rewarded with amazing views whether looking forward or back.
Me.... as we started the climb.....well I was rewarded with laughter.
Not too sure how it came about but there was a mention of someone (me) falling back down the steps we had just climbed. And bearing in mind that it had not being an easy climb. Apparently some foreigner found this so hilarious they could not stop laughing for 5 minutes. In the meantime I take a telephone call from my Mum, who is on a weekend break from retirement, and wants to tell me about the amazing evening sun she is watching over Lough Swilly bay. She ask about the laughter in the background....am I at a party? No I answer I am just listening to the death knell of a strange friendship. ( Actually, to tell the truth I told her the truth, which also involved people in wheelchairs getting squirted with a platypus'.)
If Annie was normal you would say that the cause of her brain going in that direction was down to the thinning air...but truth be told we had not climbed that high and well the last of her normality possibly left on a Fianna Fail subsidised flight a few years back.
So once her happy time was over we moved on. Step after step. While it is not too difficult I did find it a bit hard at times, not so much because of the 6 mile we had just covered, but more down to the 8 - 9 kilo's I was lugging along on my back ( no I was not carrying Annie; that would be more like 8o kilo ). Any walk I covered this year I was purposely bringing along an extra few kilos so I would be prepared for hiking in Crete this year. I would have 2, possibly 3, hikes where I would be carrying all my gear on my back. Last year I went well prepared for the hikes and reaped the benefits. No blisters throughout the holidays and no morning did I wake up thinking it was dying time.
From the road to Queen Maeve's Mound it is about a mile and a half, we to the hour, that was allowing for laughing time and also Annie exploring a very big hole in the mountain. She went in she looked and climbed back out stating that yes, it was indeedy, a very big hole.
Once we did reach Q.M's. M. we went looking for a place to eat our pasta that was out of the wind. Still following the fearless warrioress she found a partially sheltered spot on the North East side, pity it meant having to climb nearly half way down the mountain.
**Note for next walk ....Don't let the import lead.**
So meal over, table cleared and dishes done we once again climb back up the mountain for our wee jive.
goo.gl/fHbfmz
So back to the Booger Mobile and home.
