Day 67: In Exile

Day 67 - Friday, June 1st 2018: Belmullet to Ardoone 27 km / Total 1442 km, 16°C, cloudy

After a big full Irish Breakfast, I decided to go to Erris Head. It's a dead-end, and a very lonely road surrounded by the bog, with almost no house, absolutely no tree, only sheep, birds singing (it's in fact almost as noisy as a jungle) and the fog. No one on the road. I felt in exile.

At Erris Head I chose to walk the 5kms loop. On the East side, it was quite ok, but on the West side, I was in the mist, coming up from the sea. I couldn't see the cliffs and the rocks, neither the EIRE signs in white rocks laying on the grass made during WWII. I had to focus on the trail signs to be sure I wasn't going to lose myself in such fog. 

Then I hoped someone could give me a lift to Belmullet as it was a cul de sac and I hoped not to walk the same lonely road again. But there was no one. Apart from an angry dog who shouted at me and followed me, so I had to shout back at him and was ready to defend myself with my walking sticks until he gave up. I hate those dogs let out free like that. 

After Belmullet, I turned to the West and reached Ardoone Beach. There I chose an empty field, I walked all along, until the beach, I saw nothing apart from rabbits, and chose a good place for my tent. As I finished setting it up and was going to put my bag in, a cow appeared, and then some others. Where the hell are they coming from? Oh no, no, no, I don't want to spend another night with them. I took my bag, ran out of the field, threw it above the barbed, then came back, took my tent and did the same, with all the cows staring at me.

Then as I was sure that there was no hole in the wire barbed I built my tent again, between the field and the sea. Some people were walking on the beach but they said nothing. For that night, better humans than cows.