Getting to grips with Wicklow’s mountains as the TV blows a fuse
MY first weekend away of the year started with a flourish at a Wicklow camp-site on Saturday. Within three seconds my popup tent popped into shape to the sound of appreciative noises from my fellow campers.
Earlier that day five of us had negotiated the cyclist-choked hills of south Wicklow, ending up in Laragh for our first decent spin of the summer. Arriving at the ear-poppingly high altitude of the buzzy little village, we exchanged elbow-fives and hit the road. Or rather the road hit us.
Climbing and climbing with views of the spectacular Glenmacnass Waterfall to our left, he made it to the top, continuing on to Blessington where we had a pit stop in the lovely Eating House, before continuing along the lake drive to the Wicklow Gap.
The effort of packing for my first camping trip in years was up there with what it took to get over said gap, but we got there, despite the best efforts of sheep and deer.
After a 60 km/h descent during which the front wheel seemed to leave the road several times, we arrived back at Laragh, which was packed, with plenty of weekend revellers enjoying some frothy refreshments.
We arrived car by car at River Valley Holiday Park in Redcross and that was where my camping wizardry started (and ended).
Through the good advice of friends I had packed everything from a woolly hat to a woolly blanket and both came in very handy as the hours ticked down and the sun set.
Once my fellow campers were set up at their pitches, we enjoyed a celebratory glass of bubbly and it felt good to be back among friends, sitting outside, enjoying an hour of sunshine and adult conversation.
Like the proverbial hamster in a hamster wheel, I have been living a life of seemingly narrowing circularity and routine. I get up, make my bed, have breakfast, turn on the laptop, feed the children and before I know it I’m back in bed and the alarm is going off again.
Lately, to make matters worse, several alarms have been going off at different hours of darkness and brilliant morning light as The Whirlwind Wonder and The Little Fella both have their own hologram alarm clocks which they are learning how to use.
Back to the camping, we gathered in a field, enjoyed music, barbecue food and a few drinks, but my tent came a calling early and I hit the hay before midnight.
The wonderful thing about camping is you forget the hardship and sleeplessness because of the fun. Between one of the crew snoring like a red wine drunk bear and the cold and unfamiliar surroundings, only a few hours sleep were enjoyed.
I emerged at 8.30 a.m. and after a shower, coffee and a walk around, started to feel human again.
Between camping and cycling (and some tennis) I had a weekend to remember and memories were sparked of sing songs and great nights out in my native Tralee as I drove home listening to all of the wonderful tributes paid to Jack Charlton.
I got home to hear a worrying noise emanating form my telly. It crackled and fizzed and it wasn’t the first time I’d heard it lately.
The TV has been a permanent fixture of at least four homes I’ve lived in and buying a new one is a matter of great urgency and confusion.
Between OLED, QLED, UHD and other kinds of tellies, the choice is endless, but I can’t be without my telly during this endless summer.
Or I may just get on me bike!