Pork scratchings, Deep Heat and tattoos

I'm rooting for you

Day 6: Derry to Limavady

Distance: 19.8 miles (125.1 total)

Total ascent: 777 ft (9072 total)

Time: 7 hrs 30 mins

Tomorrow: Limavady to Portrush (est 22.2 miles)

A couple of nights before I flew out to Ireland, I was enjoying pork scratchings and a glass or two of red wine with my friend Tim, and we were discussing the role our mental state plays whenever we're taking on any kind of challenge. My experience of the past two days' walking offers a perfect illustration of the place of that relationship between mind and matter. Both days were fairly similar in terms of distance and terrain; actually, today was a little longer and the weather a little worse. However, yesterday as I trudged into Derry I just couldn't wait to get to the hotel and get showered and changed. Today, I could have strolled on through Limavady and easily done another five miles without complaint.

Today, like yesterday, my shoulder started playing up around late-morning. Today, unlike yesterday, instead of trying to 'push on through' and ending up making things worse, I stopped in a bus shelter next to a dual carriageway on the fringes of a light industrial estate; I took a couple of ibuprofen, smeared on some Deep Heat and treated myself to a biscuit. As a result I didn't go through a miserable hour or so of really tough going, which was to endure for the rest of the day in a bit of a hangover of despondency.

Yesterday, I sang to keep my spirits up. Today, often in torrential rain, I sang because I was really bloody happy.

Anyway, just a really good day's walking. Although a lot of it was along or near busy roads, it was not the hair-raising (probably not the right expression for me to use right at this moment of time) traffic-dodging saga of yesterday. The landscape was nice enough but the real drama was provided by the weather. I posted a video of the start of my Afternoon Prayer on Instagram. Standing on the edge of a field in some pretty heavy rain, I confidently predicted that it wouldn't be letting up any time soon, only to be walking along in bright sunshine no more than fifteen minutes later.

https://www.instagram.com/p/DFqXSqHOHDI/

Arriving in Limavady I found myself opposite a pub called Owens. It would be rude not to. Walking into a cramped main bar, every stool but one was occupied and everybody was chatting to, with and over one another. I ordered my Guinness and prepared to slope off to the back room which I'd dumped my rucksack in. As the pint was pushed across the bar to me, the old guy sitting next to where I was standing pointed to the vacant stool and said, "You. Sit there!" I just had the loveliest hour.

I'm liking Ireland. I'm loving the Irish.

PS My 'penitential' shaven head is really growing on me (no pun intended), and I quite fancy staying shaven-headed. So, is it still a penance if I like it?

PPS Maybe I'm spending too much time on my own, but... I really fancy getting a tattoo. Any suggestions?

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Thanksgiving: The friends who've been checking in on me and making sure that I'm never walking alone. You know who you are, and I'm so grateful.