Walking SW Ireland #6 – Halfway


Between mid-May to late June 2024, I will be walking along the SW coast of Ireland, taking in the Kerry Way, the Dingle Way, the North Kerry Way, and parts of the Burren Way in Clare and the Western Way in Galway. This is the story of part of that journey.

A big thank you to everyone who has bought me a coffee over the past year. The Buy Me a Coffee service allows patrons like you to fund writers like me, to cover things like the costs of running this blog, new shoes and gear, and journeys like this. If that sounds like a worthy idea to you, then go ahead – keep buying me coffees.


Where Am I?

In Tralee, taking a break before starting the second half of my journey.

The Rose of Tralee statue

I got here by walking about 500 km over 3 weeks, starting in Killarney, and walking – 

  • more or less the whole 220+ km of the Kerry Way
  • with a detour between Waterville and Cahersiveen to take in the Cliffs of Kerry, Portmagee, and Valentia Island
  • plus a road walk between Killarney and Camp on the Dingle Peninsula to get onto the Dingle Way
  • and then the 200 km or so of the Dingle Way which finishes in Tralee
  • from which I finished my first half with a 26 km section of the North Kerry Way up to Ballyheigue

There’s much to tell about those sections, probably in some future posts.  In the meantime, here are a few stories and pics from my journey so far.

Stories and Pictures Along The Way

I’ve noticed in some of the towns I’ve been in that some of the pubs have gone all out to come up with creative Guinness art.  Here are a few of the ones I saw just wandering here in Tralee. 

*****

The beaches in Ireland are an under-appreciated attraction.  The Dingle Way in particular includes about 20 km of beach walking.  Unfortunately for me, about 15 km of those came on a day when the wind was lashing and the rain was off and on, always hard in my face.  Attempting to wear a rain poncho in those conditions was futile, so I was soaked and chilled by the end of the day.  

And yet the scenery, the pounding surf, the salt spray tang in my nostrils – it was exhilarating.  Exhausting too.

*****

It was around mid-day, after leaving Kenmare.  I was up on a hillside following a dirt lane, and turned a corner near an old farmhouse.  The scent of a turf fire wafted faintly, and instantly my mind jumped 300 km northwards – memories of sitting round the kitchen at the Doherty family farm outside Donegal town, next to a warm turf stove, trying to decipher Charles’ story through his Irish accent, drinking tea and laughing, laughing.  

*****

And speaking of accents, I was walking down a wee road, and as I was going down a man was coming up, on the same side of the road as me.  We approached, and he didn’t move, so I stepped aside as he said “Good morning, and how do you do?” in such a musical faith-and-begorrah south Kerry accent that I almost burst out laughing.

I nodded politely instead, and continued on, and only later realized that I had been on the left side of the road, and he was correctly walking on the right, hence our collision course.  His polite question was his way of inquiring as to whether I was the addled foreigner that I appeared to be, and a reminder to me that in Ireland one walks on the right side of the road to face oncoming traffic.

*****

Trail food for me has been a combination of ready made things picked up in shops, mostly sandwiches, as well as things I can heat up with minimal cooking.  Instant rice mixed with tinned fish is a staple.  It isn’t the most flavoursome meal but it fills you up and is relatively healthy.  

But when in a town, I’ll eat at local cafes and pubs.  Favourite meals so far have included the fish and chips at the South Pole Inn in Anascaul, the pizza at Tango Street Food in Killarney, and the grilled local fish that I had at Pisces Restaurant in Castlegregory.

And of course, it’s Ireland, I wouldn’t be exploring if I didn’t sample the pubs along the way.  I do like a pint of Guinness, so that’s been my beverage of choice when in a pub.  

Probably my favourite pub and pint was at O’Connor’s Bar in Cloghane – it had been a rainy blustery day, and was still a rainy evening, cold to boot, and I was tired and cranky.  

I walked into a properly old-fashioned place, cobwebby wooden beams overhead and dusty flagstones on the floor, with a bar propped up by regulars and the requisite loud American, a turf fire smoldering away.  

That pint was delicious. I spent 2 hours eavesdropping on the conversations going on all around me

“that bloke is creepy, look at him leering”

“who’s that?” – referring to a movie playing on a telly in the corner – “Sean Connery”; “who’s Sean Connery?”

“What if we buy a round for everyone in the bar and put it on the musicians tab”

and listening to a young guy playing the piano and singing songs like Raglan Road.  There was the Celtic magic I’d been searching for.  Sláinte.

*****

And it wouldn’t be Ireland without tea.  One of the toughest parts of the Kerry Way for me was the section between Glencar and the Black Valley.  This had two steep climbs in it, and by the time I had huffed and puffed up the second one, I was gasping and hungry.  

So I paused at the top, got out my cooking gear, and made myself a cup of tea – cure’s everything, as Ann’s gran used to say.

*****

In walking the Kerry Way , and then the Dingle Way, I covered two of the three most popular walking trails in Ireland (the other being the Wicklow Way).  Even though it’s still early in the tourist season, there were many other walkers with whom I crossed paths.  

They come from all over, though I would say that the majority of hikers that I’ve met so far have been from Germany, with Americans a close second.  Other accents and languages I’ve overheard include French, Spanish, Icelandic, Irish, English, Australian, Canadian, and Italian.

It’s an international community, and very different from my experience walking in Canada, on the Bruce Trail, the Island Walk, and my Nova Scotia journey last year.  The national waymarked trails of Ireland are a treasure, and I’m deeply jealous – I would love it if Canada had such a system of trails dedicated to walkers.  

*****

When I reached Camp, after walking in the wind and rain for several hours, I was delighted to find a snug little place called Anne’s Cafe.  I went in, grateful to be warm and dry, and ordered a pot of tea and a bite.

I was just sitting down when a young family came in and asked if they could share the table.  They had two youngsters, about 5 and 3 years old.  

We got chatting, and I explained a bit about the walk I’m on, and they talked about walking the Camino Frances a few years ago. 

We were comparing experiences, and I said that one of the things that I had told myself on my previous long walk in Nova Scotia was that I should try to find at least one moment every day when I felt at peace, a place of total calmness.

It occurred to me as I was explaining it, that I hadn’t been consciously doing that on this trip.  I had had my Zen moments, but I hadn’t had to say to myself “ok, focus, this is your Zen moment “.  I realized that I had simply felt it – absorbed the calm in the moment – without having to prompt myself.  

I guess that’s growth.  Old dogs and new tricks and all that.

Where to Next?

From Tralee, I’ve changed my route a bit.  I think I want to head as directly towards Doolin as I can so that I can spend a bit more time on the Aran Islands, and then in Connemara.

Weather and circumstances may change that, of course, but my time is pretty flexible.  As long as I make it to Galway in time to catch a train to Dublin so that I can rejoin Ann, I’m fine.  Let’s see where I go.


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Walking SW Ireland #2 – Gear


Between mid-May to late June 2024, I will be walking along the SW coast of Ireland, taking in the Kerry Way, the Dingle Way, the North Kerry Way, and parts of the Burren Way in Clare and the Western Way in Galway. This is the story of part of that journey.

A big thank you to everyone who has bought me a coffee over the past year. The Buy Me a Coffee service allows patrons like you to fund writers like me, to cover things like the costs of running this blog, new shoes and gear, and journeys like this. If that sounds like a worthy idea to you, then go ahead – keep buying me coffees.

*****

So having decided to walk about in Ireland, I went through the gear I took last year in walking about Nova Scotia, and told myself that I needed to pare down the weight.  I schlepped the best part of 40 lbs with food, water, stove fuel, plus all the other stuff – tent, sleep system, cooking gear, spare clothes, etc.

It was right at the limit of what I could carry, and knowing that, I made some choices to either leave stuff out for this trip, or replace it with some lighter kit.

So here’s the list of what I am planning to carry.  I’m down from about 14 kg (32 lbs) base weight to more like 9 kg (20 lbs), and with Ireland being well supplied with corner shops for food and wee streams for water, I can carry less weight there too.  I am hoping that most days I’ll be at about 11 kg (25 lbs), with about 12.5 kg (29 lb) max if I have 2-3 days of food and full water.

*****

Gear

I bought all the gear myself – I didn’t receive anything from any supplier as a promo or in exchange for a review.  I bought most of my stuff from the following:

Pack

  • Osprey Exos Pro 58L pack, with rain cover
  • All my gear fits either inside the pack or in the outside stuff pockets 

Trekking poles

  • Black Diamond Trail collapsible poles – they are almost always in my hands, but I can tuck them into one of the outside pack pockets if needed

Shelter system

  • Durston X-Mid 1P tent, with the optional groundsheet
    • Durston tent stuff sack
    • 6 MSR Mini Groundhog stakes plus 2 Durston shepherd hook stakes
    • 8 spare mini titanium stakes plus a set of 4 MSR spare guylines – I’m anticipating windy conditions 
  • A piece of plastic salvaged from a shipping bag as a small  vestibule groundsheet to keep my pack off the wet grass
(The tent on the left is the Durston)

I agonized over this choice, by the way.  It will rain, often, this being Ireland, and I thought the bigger 2-person MEC tent that I have would be nice if I’m hunkered down for hours out of the wet.  

But it weighs about 800g more than the Durston, so in the end I decided to go with the lighter tent.  Besides, I like the coziness of the Durston having used it last year, and it has the advantage of allowing a quick fly-first pitch so that the inner stays dry if you are setting up in the rain.

Sleep system

  • Therm-a-Rest Vesper 0C rated down quilt
  • Therm-a-Rest Prolite Short self-inflating sleeping pad
  • Appalachian Gear Company Alpaca sleeping bag liner
  • MEC inflatable pillow with a merino wool buff as a pillow case
  • a pair of light sweatpants used as pajamas
  • a long sleeve T shirt used as pajamas
  • a 10L dry bag to hold all the sleep gear

Clothes

  • What I will wear every day
    • a pair of walking shorts, merino wool socks, athletic underwear, and athletic wick away T-shirt, and an athletic wick away long sleeve shirt
    • A MEC baseball style sun hat
    • a pair of Merrell Rogue high top hiking shoes
  • In the pack is a 10L dry bag with spare clothes
    • 1 pair of walking pants (convertible to shorts)
    • 1 wick away synthetic material athletic T-shirt
    • 1 pair of merino wool hiking socks
    • 1 pair of wick away synthetic material athletic underwear
  • Also in the pack are my outer layers
    • 1 lightweight fleecy
    • 1 lightweight Patagonia Houdini water resistant windbreaker 
    • 1 Sea to Summit rain poncho (converts to a tarp if needed)
    • 1 MEC light down puffy jacket
    • 1 pair of runners lightweight gloves
  • A pair of camp flip flops
  • A dirty clothes bag – just a reusable cloth grocery store bag that I could wash

Cook System

  • A MSR Pocket Rocket stove w 110g fuel canister and MSR stove supports
  • A Vargo titanium mug
  • An MSR titanium 700 ml pot
  • A Vargo long-handled titanium spoon
  • A plastic spork
  • A fire steel sparker 
  • A back-up small disposable lighter in a Ziplock bag
  • A small scrubber, a washcloth, and some Wilderness Wash soap, in a Ziplock bag
  • A leather pot grabber made from scraps I got from our local cobbler
  • Salt and pepper in little packets inside a small watertight container

Health and Safety

  • A toiletries kit in a 3L dry bag with a quick dry camp towel, a small washcloth, deodorant, nail clippers, toothbrush, regular toothpaste, and a salt/baking soda tooth cleaning mix for when I am in a wilderness spot
  • A first aid kit with tick tweezers, blister & regular bandages, KT tape, petroleum jelly, alcohol swabs, scissors, allergy tablets, and ibuprofen tablets
  • A headlamp
  • A bug net to wear over my hat
  • A whistle (built-in to the pack’s sternum strap)
  • A VersaFlow water filtration kit + a CNOC 2L Vecto collapsible water bag
  • A supply of water purification tablets (if in doubt about the water source, I like to filter plus use the tabs, to be safe)
  • A Vargo titanium shovel for digging cat holes, aka the poop shovel
  • A small supply of toilet paper in a zip lock bag
  • A package of compostable disposable wipes
  • A packet of Sea to Summit travel wash soap leaves
  • A bottle of Sea to Summit Wilderness Wash concentrated all-purpose soap
  • A mini tube of sunblock
  • A small container of hand sanitizer 

Electronics

  • Electronics in a small dry bag
    • iPad mini
    • A couple of multi-connector cables
    • A Nitecore 10,000 milliamp power pack
    • A dual port charging brick
    • A Canada to Ireland plug adapter 
    • Apple earbuds
    • A headlamp

Tools and Repair Kit

  • A fix-it kit with some safety pins, a couple of small ring clamps, a short roll of duct tape, a mini sewing kit, and some inflatable-gear patches
  • A spare bootlace that doubles as a clothes line
  • A food hang kit – 10m of paracord with a carabiner attached to a loop on one end, plus a small drawstring sack used as a rock bag
  • A few small carabiners
  • 4 plastic clothes pegs
  • 2 mini bungee cords
  • My sunglasses in a zip lock bag
  • My Swiss Army knife
  • A few disposable eyeglass wipes 
  • A reflective arm band
  • A Crunch-It fuel canister recycling tool

Consumables

  • A 20L KINStudio Kevlar critterproof food bag that holds my cooking gear plus
    • Trail snacks – some combo of granola bars, raw pumpkin and/or sunflower seeds, dried fruit, turkey jerky, banana chips, sesame bars, etc.
    • 1 day’s worth of food (usually, but I will have a couple of short stretches where I will need 2-3 days worth)  – tortillas or pita breads, cheese, noodles, ramen, canned fish, oatmeal, etc.
    • A ziplock bag with instant coffee packets and tea bags
  • A fuel canister for the stove
  • 1L of water, at start of day
  • If I am far from a water source for the night, I will use my 2L CNOC bottle for extra

What I’m Not Taking

The stuff I’ve omitted to save weight is perhaps as interesting as what I am taking.  

  • Swapping a Gregory Baltoro 65L pack for the Osprey Exos Pro saves about 1.5 kg
  • Carrying 1 change of clothes instead of 2 saves about 1 kg
  • Carrying less water and food saves about 1 to 1.5 kg
  • Swapping my old MEC rain jacket and rain pants for a poncho and a light windbreaker saved about 500g, more than enough to offset the extra weight of the down puffy jacket
  • Leaving behind the Helinox Chair Zero camp chair saved almost 500g
  • Paring down my first aid kit, toiletries, fix-it kit, and misc gear saved more than 500g
  • Swapping my Vargo alcohol stove for the iso-butane stove saved about 250g on the fuel and associated fuel bottle
  • Buying some other lighter gear like a new fleece jumper, new dry bags, new power bank and charger, etc saved another 250g or so

It’s amazing how little things add up.  Just reducing the number of stuff sacks and zip lock bags was more than 100g in weight savings.  If you really want to save pack weight, put each individual item on a kitchen scale and measure it to the gram, and soon you too will be cutting the ends off your toothbrush.

Walking Books

Here’s an update on my list of books about walks and walking. Enjoy some armchair trekking!

There have been many books written about walking – the techniques of walking, the destinations, the journey, the effort, the spirituality, and so on, and there will likely be many more to come. This is a by no means exhaustive list of those books in English which I have read and which have inspired me. I’ll update this list from time to time as I come across new ones. Let me know which books about walking have inspired you.

Author/TitleDescription

Author: Emily Taylor Smith
Title: Around the Province in 88 Days
ISBN: 978-1-98828-668-6
A journal of the author’s walk around the coast of Nova Scotia in 2010. Written from the perspective of distance and published in 2019, it’s at least as much about growth, self-discovery, and perseverance as it is about the walk. And having moved to Nova Scotia, it was also a welcome introduction to the landscape and wonders of our new home, and the power of kindness to inspire.

Author: Emily Taylor Smith
Title: No Thanks, I Want to Walk
ISBN: 978-1-98972-533-7
A companion journal to the author’s previous work, this recounts her 2016 journey around the coast of New Brunswick and along the Gaspé Peninsula to Quebec City. As with her previous book, the self-discovery and insights are inspiring. The kindness of strangers is on full display throughout.

Author: Apsley Cherry-Gerrard
Title: The Worst Journey in the World
ISBN: 978-078670-437-8
An account of the Robert Scott expedition to Antarctica in 1910-13. The journey he refers to is one undertaken with 2 other companions to collect the eggs of emperor penguins in the depths of an Antarctic winter, an epic weeks-long hike which nearly killed them. The courage, strength, and deep bonds of companionship that were formed on that journey and then shattered when his companions died with Scott on the way back from the pole in 1912, are heartbreaking.
Author: Bill Bryson
Title: A Walk in the Woods
ISBN: 0385-408161
Comic, instructive, insightful, and far better than the film made of the book. Read it and draw inspiration from a middle-aged guy who found the determination to walk a big chunk of the Appalachian Trail.
Author: Nick Hunt
Title: Walking the Woods and the Water
ISBN: 978-1-85788-643-6
The subtitle is “In Patrick Leigh Fermor’s footsteps from the Hook of Holland to the Golden Horn”. Wonderfully well-written, charming, and inspirational.
Author: Nick Hunt
Title: Where the Wild Winds Are
ISBN:978-1-85788-656-6
A follow-up to his previous book, walking in the footsteps of Patrick Leigh Fermor. In this new book, he walks about Europe tracing the paths of famous winds – the Foehn, the Mistral, and more.

Authors: Lonely Planet
Title: Epic Hikes of the World
ISBN: 978-1-78701-417-6
A candy store of a book, with more than a hundred walks worthy of your bucket list. Dip into it on a rainy winter’s evening and make your plans.
Author: Barry Stone
Title: The 50 Greatest Walks of the World
ISBN: 978-178578-063-9
A subjective listing, of course, and somewhat overly interested in walks in Europe, but nevertheless it covers not just the biggies – the Camino de Santiago, the Appalachian Trail, etc. – but also many lesser known, shorter walks that are bucket-listable and achievable by the average walker.

Author: Levison Wood
Title: Walking the Nile
ISBN: 978-0-8021-2633-7
An account of a walk the length of the Nile river. The journey is fascinating, the people he meets are more so, and the landscape is bucket-list stuff.

Author: Rory Stewart
Title: The Places In Between
ISBN: 978-0-14-305330-9
A lyrical book, inspiring and engaging, about the author’s walk across Afghanistan in early 2002, just after the fall of the Taliban.

Author: Will Ferguson
Title: Beyond Belfast
ISBN: 978-0-14-317062-4
Funny and informative, the author walks 800+ km along the Ulster Way in Northern Ireland.
Author: David Downie
Title: Paris to the Pyrenees
ISBN: 978-1-60598-556-5
Part travelogue, part history, part internal meditation, the author and his wife set out to retrace the medeval pilgrimage route through France along the way of St. James, to Santiago de Compostella in Spain.
Author: John A. Cherrington
Title: Walking to Camelot
ISBN: 978-1-927958-62-9
Two Canadians walk the McMillan Way, from Boston to Chesil Beach through the heart of rural England, drinking in history and savouring the journey.
Author: J.R.R. Tolkein
Title: The Hobbit
One of my favourite books, re-read many times, and far better than the overwrought movie version. The story is about much more than a walk, and yet Bilbo Baggins’ sub-title, There and Back Again perfectly describes my walks.

Excuses

I haven’t posted in a bit and now I’m thinking I should get back into the habit. Soooo many excuses …

I’ll get to it later.

I’m busy.

I have to make dinner.

Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera ad nauseam

But the other night, we were having dinner with friends and the topic of travel came up – who’s ready to get back into it? Another couple at the table said hey were, and had just booked a week’s walking tour around Mount Blanc for this coming summer.

When I heard that, I thought about the walks I was going to do in 2020 – Toronto to Ottawa along the TransCanada Trail. And the walks in 2021 – in Ireland perhaps, from Dublin to Kerry through Wicklow. The COVID kibosh came along and those had to be set aside to wait and now it’s 2022 and what walks am I doing this year?

COVID-19 has been and continues to be a challenge. We’re all tired of it, we all just wish it would magically go away. We’re getting there, and the signs are pointing in the right direction, but I’m not getting any younger, and those bucket list

walks aren’t going to walk themselves. Sooner or later, I need to get up and get out and get going.

So, here’s hoping 2022 offers a chance to do that.

Rainy Day Walks

Our autumn is settling into a steady procession of rainy days. I knew in moving to the Maritimes that it would be wetter than in Toronto, and now I’m seeing it first hand. It hasn’t been too cold yet, just more wet days than dry, a bit Irish-weatherish I suppose.

And so if you don’t walk when it’s wet then you don’t walk much, so out I go, as long as it’s not an actual gale – anything under Force 7 or 8 is fair game.

I don’t mind walking in the wet like that. Dressing for the weather is a given, but as long as I do then I’m comfy and while there might be some blustery areas around the town, there are usually sheltered areas too so you can stay out of the worst of it.

The colours are more subdued in the wet, but they stand out too, especially this time of the year – a brightly painted house against a slate grey sky is cheerful. The flashes of colour from wellies and rain gear, the holiday lights, the boats in the harbour, a bird or two, the painted chairs along the harbour walk.

And the scents are more subtle too – damp undergrowth and harbour water and pine trees and diesel.

I love the sounds of gurgling water in rivulets and gutters, drips and gushes and splashes and sloshes. The slap of a wave against a boat, and the sloppy surge under the wharf.

And when I get back, I can hang up my soaked hat and coat, put on warm dry socks, and light the fire, and finish my coffee while reading a book. Till the next day when I walk in the rain again.

Found

Out for a walk the other day, we came across something that I’d not seen before. A Nova Scotian artist named Angie Arsenault has created a little artists box of foraged inks made from natural ingredients – things like acorns and goldenrod and mountain ash roots – and put it on the trail beside the Lehave River in Bridgewater.

It’s called the Little Library of Foraged Inks, and it’s a fantastic find. We stopped and read her notes inside on how to use it

and came away smiling at the idea. It’s clever, it’s environmentally aware and awareness-raising, and most of all it’s fun. It’s a classic example of spreading joy through little acts of kindness.

It also reminded me of why I like to go for walks. I love to find these little things, sometimes man-made and sometimes natural, but either way always fascinating.

Life is full of goodness. Find some and share it.

About Town

I like walking around town here in Lunenburg, now that we’re a bit settled in. Several times a week I’ll do a bit of a wander, like a dog visiting his patch (though I promise I don’t mark my territory on lamp posts). If I go up the hill behind our house and then east along Lincoln Street,

I can wander past the art galleries and on towards King, and see if there’s a sale on a Stan’s Dad and Lad clothing store, or maybe some interesting specials at the Lincoln Street Diner, and the aroma of roasting coffee will tell me if the Laughing Whale is making a new batch.

And if I keep going past King and Prince and Hopson and Kempt and climb the hill on Lincoln towards Blockhouse Hill, I’ll go past a house that some folks are building that will be spectacular when it’s done, and sometimes they’ll be sitting out taking a break on their harbour-view deck. “Coming along”, I’ll shout, and we’ll wave to each other.

And then round the corner and up to Blockhouse Hill and round the park and up along Kempt a bit and then back west along say Townsend, past a few of the churches

and up and down the hills and along to Kaulbach, where I can swing right and walk up past the Hillcrest Cemetery entrance and take a turn past the wonderful Academy building,

and then swing back west along Lawrence and walk back to Kempt, and then go downhill past the Ironworks Distillery (yummm, smells like a new batch of rum is in the works) and left onto Montague Street.

And so back along Montague heading west a bit and then cut down onto Bluenose Drive and wander east along past public wharves and the dory boats and the Fisheries Museum, just mingling with the tourists.

Oh, the Bluenose is in port today.

And say, did I just hear a bit of German, and Farsi, and Hindi, and French, and Spanish. Plus those Yankee accents – oh yeah, must be that car with the New York license plates.

And speaking of license plates, is that car from Iowa? Haven’t see one of those all summer – COVID-19 is finally fading (fingers crossed) and the tourists are really back from all over.

And then keep going up into the Pioneer park and along the Harbour Walk – but look at that, someone has hung red dresses in the trees next to the historic plaques near the “pioneer” cemetery as a reminder that those early settlers didn’t arrive to an empty country and missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls are still missing and still missed and even a small town like Lunenburg cannot turn its back on history and social wrongs.

And then past that over to Falkland and left towards the park by the tennis courts where some older players are getting in a game, and then on past the arena and the curling club where the ice is now in and hockey and curling seasons are about to begin.

And past that around to the east through the basketball courts where some teenagers are having a game (yeah, the Raptor’s season starts soon!) and past the new Bluenose Academy and then down to Tannery Row and around back along Falkland and then up the Harbour Walk and then Montague towards home. A wave to John in the pizza shop, and a shout up to Robert our neighbour to the north who’s puttering about in the garden.

I like our little town. And I’m very grateful to be able to live here.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Paths

“Make your own path”; “pathfinder”; “trailblazer”; “path-breaking”; “the road less travelled” …

Our language has many words and phrases for the notion of navigation, and in particular for the notion of following an existing path or trying a new path, exploring and marking and creating a way to do things.

And often, as I’m walking, that notion is buried in a romantic corner of my brain – the idea that the path I’m walking is new in some way, that I’m the first person that day, that month, that year, or even, ever, who’s walked in that particular place.

It’s naive of course. Over more than 10,000 years of North American habitation, it’s very low odds that I’m the only person who’s stood in a given spot. But I feel it sometimes, that sense of specialness or uniqueness. I want to believe that I’m unique in my connection to a path or a place.

And yet I know that people have been here long before me. Walking about, I see signs of history and settlement. The very path I’m on is often the surest sign – the street or road or old railway line trail is man-made, so clearly I’m just another visitor that place.

Walking in a forest, “off the beaten path” as the saying goes, is perhaps less travelled but is still unlikely to be untravelled. A given scenic view or water course or hill or beach or meadow has probably attracted someone else’s attention at some point – if I think it’s a lovely spot then more than likely someone else has too.

It’s deeply moving for me, however, to imagine myself in the figurative shoes of that person who’s gone before. When, how long ago? What was the weather like? What did this spot look like then? What did the air smell like, what bird song did they hear, was there a tang of woodsmoke or a whiff of wild berries?

My education and upbringing put a far greater emphasis upon the recorded history of habitation – and who wrote the records but the Europeans who came to Canada a few hundred years ago? My schooling had nary a word written by or reflecting the stories and lives of the First Nations who were here thousands of years previously. Today I walk paths named, for the most part, by the late-comers – Cornwallis Street in Lunenburg, the Gaff Point Trail, the Harbour Walk, and sometimes in an aside to the previous inhabitants, names that echo that earlier existence more than acknowledge it.

But I wonder about the users of these paths, this land, before late-comers like me. In who’s footsteps do I walk? What would they say about the world I see now? What would they say about me?

Fog

“A foggy day, in London town, had me low, had me down …”

A Foggy Day lyrics © Ira Gershwin Music, Nokawi Music, Frankie G. Songs, Chappell & Co., Inc.

I was thinking of that Gershwin tune the other day, as I looked out the window. It was a foggy day in Lunenburg – I could barely see the near shore of the harbour let alone the other side. The air was heavy with mist, moisture clinging to your clothes. Not a particularly inspiring day for a walk.

And yet … the grey soft light brings out the softness of the colours of the houses. The heavy air dampens sound. It’s charming, in its way, and I like it as long as it doesn’t last for days.

So I headed out to the beach for a walk in the fog. There was a steady surge of small swells breaking, and the gulls would swoop out of the dimmed sky like wraiths. Plovers darted in the shallows and danced their way along the beach just keeping ahead of me as I walked. Clumps of seaweed marked the tide-line. I couldn’t see the headlands at either end of the beach from the car park, and they slowly loomed out of the mist as I walked the full length of the beach.

Fog can be lovely. And fog can be frustrating. You want clarity, to see what’s in front of you. Fog can be chilling and bite through to your bones – you want sunshine and warmth.

And fog can be mental and physical as well as meteorological. Sometimes we have that heaviness of spirit that we think of as being mentally fogged. And sometimes, there’s the longer term mental fog that comes with age or illness, the dimming of the light as our brain functions slow down.

But burning through, even then, there are still days when the sun shines in, the fog lifts. Those are the days to cherish.

“For suddenly, I saw you there, and through foggy London town, the sun was shining, everywhere” …

A Foggy Day lyrics © Ira Gershwin Music, Nokawi Music, Frankie G. Songs, Chappell & Co., Inc.

Little Walks – Lunenburg Harbour

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Before we moved to Lunenburg, we’d visit every couple of years, and most times we were here I’d go for a stroll by the harbour. Now that we’ve moved in, I’ve come to appreciate that walk even more. Rain or shine, it’s a lovely spot.

We live just a block up from the harbour front, so I like to meander east along Montague Street past the shops and restaurants, to where Bluenose Drive curves up to meet Montague. Then I follow it down and head back west along Bluenose Drive, past the fishery buildings and then the piers and the Fisheries Museum.

I’ll keep going further west and where Bluenose Drive curves back up to meet Montague, I’ll turn left and follow the Harbour Walk path along the edge of the west end of the harbour.

The Harbour Walk past the old cemetery

The end of the trail leads up to Falkland Street, and if you turn left here and follow it past the shops and the Foundry, past the tennis courts and Nellie’s Takeout, you’ll come to Tannery Road. Follow that south and east and past some houses and businesses, and you’ll come to a little picnic area the town has built along the south side of the harbour.

And here you get that gorgeous view of the town that has tourists making a beeline for this spot so that they can take another of what must be a million photos a year, and yet in all weathers this view never gets tiresome.

If I want to stretch out a little more, I’ll keep going along Tannery Road towards Mason Beach Road and the entrance to the golf course. Here, if you look up, you’ll see the nest that a pair of osprey’s have made and return to year after year. They are surprisingly chatty birds, screeching and cawing and sometimes circling over your head, as they keep an eye on you. Their view back over the harbour must be fantastic.

And then the stroll back home, retracing my steps, and sometimes popping into the newly-added Barn coffeeshop that’s been joined with the Lightship Brewery pub and PJs Snacks in a building on a little point that juts into the harbour. It’s one of the best places in town to enjoy the view and now I’ve let the secret out that the locals like to keep to themselves.

It’s not a long walk, maybe 45 minutes if you stroll at a leisurely pace, but a great walk is about more than how much distance you cover.


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