I’ll be wandering the cliffs and glens of Ireland in September, three weeks of the country on foot, and I’ll be bringing one backpack with me. It will be a large backpack, a Karrimor hiking pack. It’s already broken in, handed down to me by my brother in law Robert, and my goal is to keep it as light as possible while still carrying everything I need for the twenty one days of hiking and travel and still leaving room for mementos that I’m sure I’ll come across and won’t be able to leave the country without.
First thing in the pack will be a rain poncho of some kind. Everyone I’ve spoken to who has spent time in Ireland says “rain” first. “The people are nice” and then “rain”. Being on foot most of the time leaves me especially susceptible to the weather, so plastic poncho it is.
Next will be various clothes. Three pairs of pants? Maybe just two. I’ll be looking to get some laundry done, two pair should be fine. Socks, five or six pair, maybe more? If there’s one thing I’ve learned from books about war that involve marching at great lengths (The Naked and The Dead springs to mind) or just stories about extended hiking in wet places: a person can never have enough socks. It should be noted that I am not by any stretch an expert hiker. I get around and do enjoy some miles but am just above competent. I expect to be pretty beat up by the time I hit Killarney around day seven or eight.
One thick sweater and a down jacket, maybe some long underwear, or is that overdoing it? It’s going to get chilly but this pack is already getting cramped, I’m not trying to become the American hunchback of Ireland bent over with Santa’s Christmas bag on my back. And I’ve got to remember: friends and family will be expecting gifts and nick nacks on my return. Some are even expecting little wooden boxes containing tiny men that will lead them to pots of gold.
So, what else? Phone charger, toothbrush, passport, underwear, sunglasses, the little things. My buddy Jim grew up on the south west of Ireland and went back for a funeral not long ago. There were over cast skies, fog, the whole deal, but poor Jim still got his skin burned to a crisp, so sunblock goes in the pack as well. These are pale people over there but I think I heard him Jim say “there’s a bleed’n hole in the ozone,” or something like that.
Next will be various clothes. Three pairs of pants? Maybe just two. I’ll be looking to get some laundry done, two pair should be fine. Socks, five or six pair, maybe more? If there’s one thing I’ve learned from books about war that involve marching at great lengths (The Naked and The Dead springs to mind) or just stories about extended hiking in wet places: a person can never have enough socks. It should be noted that I am not by any stretch an expert hiker. I get around and do enjoy some miles but am just above competent. I expect to be pretty beat up by the time I hit Killarney around day seven or eight.
One thick sweater and a down jacket, maybe some long underwear, or is that overdoing it? It’s going to get chilly but this pack is already getting cramped, I’m not trying to become the American hunchback of Ireland bent over with Santa’s Christmas bag on my back. And I’ve got to remember: friends and family will be expecting gifts and nick nacks on my return. Some are even expecting little wooden boxes containing tiny men that will lead them to pots of gold.
So, what else? Phone charger, toothbrush, passport, underwear, sunglasses, the little things. My buddy Jim grew up on the south west of Ireland and went back for a funeral not long ago. There were over cast skies, fog, the whole deal, but poor Jim still got his skin burned to a crisp, so sunblock goes in the pack as well. These are pale people over there but I think I heard him Jim say “there’s a bleed’n hole in the ozone,” or something like that.
That should do it. I think I’ll still have some room for trinkets and things, maybe a couple books I’ll buy. A bottle of whisky perhaps? We’ll see. No matter how much I try to keep it light that pack is going to start weighing me down around the second day and twentieth mile, there’s no doubt. But like a turtle on walkabout that pack will be my house for three weeks so it’s important I have the essentials.
It would be nice to have a smaller pack inside the pack, for day hikes and exploring a city or a town with the large pack secure at a B&B or something, although I’ve begun to suspect it would mean wasting space. I tried stuffing a smaller backpack inside the big pack and it was all bad, no space for the long underwear anymore. Which makes me think: maybe a fanny pack? Was this not what the fanny pack was invented for? But a fanny pack can not carry a sweater, which is half the point in bringing a smaller pack for urban exploring. Plus, I want to come back with my body and spirit intact and I feel like wearing a fanny pack is marking yourself for a foreign beat down, or at least a good heckling from children.
So, out of equal parts fear and foolish pride the fanny pack stays in the states. If I need a bag when I’m out and about then the big pack comes and that’s all there is to it really. All you can do is pack the bag as well as you can, preparing for possible cold and wet conditions, and let the chips fall where they may. Let the cookie crumble, whatever. Erin go bragh!
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