A Pilgrimage Along The Goats Path Road.

 I walked fifty one miles last week.  I just have to get out of the house and pound the tarmac at the moment.  It's far too wet the walk the Sheep's Head Way and hills above where I live at the moment.  Not that you see a soul at this time of year.

Last Monday I decided to walk  to the pieta on top of the Goats Path.  It's somewhere I would sometimes walk to and J would collect me when I had walked enough.  

My pilgrimage this day was not for a religious purpose.  It was for exercise and to go to a place of sheer beauty where my wife would meet me after a long walk and drive me home. You can see the three peninsulas of Mizen, Beara and Sheepshead where I live and my dad's ancestors came from.  The peninsulas remind me of 3 bony fingers pointing like finger posts to Boston and the world beyond.

Mike Harding the great hiker and Lancashire comedian featured the pieta statue in his book: Footloose In The West Of Ireland.   I have a copy of it somewhere in a box? Jean would know where it was like everything else resides.

 Yorkshire Pudding once met  Mike Harding I do believe.  Mike once said that God gave us belly buttons so we can peel potatoes when we are in bed.😊

After a couple of miles the road gets quieter and I might not see a passing car or lorry for at least ten minutes may be more.

A farmer on a old  red Massey Ferguson tractor drove passed and waved and probably thinking: "It's strange to see tourists at this time of year?"

West Cork and Kerry people after hearing my broad Northwest English accent often ask me how long am I on holiday and I reply:

" Nearly twenty five years".

The walk on the north side (Northsider Dave) looks over Bantry Bay and over to the Beara peninsula and Hungry Hill and Sugarloaf mountains.  Regular blog readers know I can see them from our back garden and kitchen windows.

I decided to walk all along the road and I took in the view, talked to two walkers and I thought about Jean collecting me and all our memories living here for the last almost quarter of a century.  I shed a few tears and I even talked to my wife.  I know she's not with me physically but I still believe she's with me in spirit and I still feel the love we had ("have!") for each other.  

I still haven't dreamed about her yet.  Which is odd.  Perhaps my head is making me sleep? Her death and the funeral keep playing in a mental video and jukebox in my head.

Here's some photos of my walk for your perusal:

Snow covered Hungry Hill.  A talcum powder like covering.  I took this from my back garden.

There's never enough of these signs.

A wind swept tree.

The holy well.  I have read that girls from the former national school use to visit the well in May and look in the waters to hopefully see the reflection of their future husbands faces.

No dogs allowed.

Sign for an holy well.

Donkeys watching me.

All the way to Bantry looking East.

Seefin.

Take your litter home and a sign for Seefin.

Mary carry Christ in her arms.  J use to meet me here and drive me home east along the helter skelter that is the Goats Path road.

I even managed to capture my shadow.

A guide to Seefin.

Deserted ruins empty since the Great Famine.  Some people died or emigrated and even today there are buildings that nobody  knows who owns some of the  ruined buildings in Ireland.

Walkers sign.

Which road to choose?

It's like that Hovis advert walking up the steep and deserted road. This ain't Gold Hill in Dorset.  It's  the Sheepshead Peninsula in West Cork.  I could feel the warmth of the Gulf Stream hitting the land while I walked.

Sign posts for the Goats Path.

Map of the Sheeps Head Way and suggested walks.

Churn stands revamped all along our road.

Cows tucking into a round bale of silage: " How's tings boy? Anything strange?"

Walking West and a glimpse of the bay and Hungry Hill.  This was near  the beginning of my pilgrimage. 

The health app on my mobile phone told me I had walked 18 miles or between 30,000 to 40, 000 feet.  There is life in the old dog yet!  My feet really ached after my route march, saunter, pilgrimage. 

I sometimes think why do I need to travel when I have got all the walks and scenery where I live?

Hope you enjoyed my hike?