Achill Half Marathon

It's 6.30 am and the noise of pouring rain outside the window wakes me up.
The first thought goes immediately to my first Half Marathon, hoping that the weather clears up soon and the race will still go ahead. I can't imagine of not running it after I have been training for 6 months and after I have recovered from a small injury due to overtraining.
The girls are a little bit anxious as if they are going to an exam session (this is their comment!), while I am - for whatever reason - confident, I sense that I will finish the race.
During our healthy breakfast we meet another runner like us. Yes! Now I can say it loud: I AM A RUNNER.
It's always nice to chat with someone who shares the same interest and/or passion with you, at least they don't judge you or put you down for what you do without even haven't tried themselves. Sometimes I think it's just envy, because they don't have the courage to get up from the sofa, switch off the telly and do something that makes them feel alive.

Just before we leave the B&B the rain stops even though the wind is still with us blowing and the breeze from the ocean touches on lightly our skins, thefore the panic starts on how many layers should we wear for the race. You don't want to get cold while waiting to start running, neither you want to be too warm with too many layers while you're running.
Once we get closer to the car park, we start seeing other runners stretching, warming up and you feel part of this "circus". It's no more watching people doing some sport on TV or standing on the side of the road to cheer, it's now you who's part of it.

As I try to find a room in the crowd while I pass the head of if where the elite atheletes are, a thought crosses my mind: "One day I will be there."
The spectators start to cheer us up louder while we get closer to the start line, then the horn lets us know that it is time to have some fun.
Few seconds later the rain is on us again I think we all had the same thought: "I hope it won't last for 13 miles". Luckely it didn't, so the race began...

My concern was right ahead of me: hilly road for the first 5 miles and so I learn that Achill Island is the hilliest island in Ireland. I can still hear now that I am writing down my thoughts, the sound of my breath when I was running up the hill while my heartrate was going crazy.
I started doing my usual scanning, my feet had no problems hitting the ground, my legs were moving smoothlie, my mind was telling me that I could make it to the top, but my stomach simply didn't want to listen to me. No matter how hard I tried to convince it that everything was going to be fine as soon as I would have reached the top and started the discent, it kept going its own way. I was running with a stone in my stomach as I was in the middle of the digestion and also I didn't have any water with me. The result was that almost at the top of the hill I had to walk fast rather than run. At least I didn't stop, so I was still in the loop.
Finally the first water station was at "the end of the tunnel" and everything started to dissapear slowly. Ready to hit the road, sure that there were no more hills, but yet I was wrong again.
I have to admit that for the first half an hour I thought that all this was insane, perhaps I was in a panic that I would never have finished the run.
I remember that at the 4th mile marker I saw the number 6 instead of 5, which motivated me to keep going as I was almost half way, but then I saw the marker for the mile 5 and then 6, I guess I had a hallucination.

I must say that the scenary was beautiful, especially running by Doogort beach one of the five blue flags of the island. From there 'till about the 10mile it was all down hill and I felt like a feather going down.
Yet another hill, just when I thought there were none left, but this time I was ready to face it. I wanted to run uphill and get to the top. I almost crawled but I got there.
Then finally, the last 3 miles and from far I could see the yellow circus tend at the beach near the finish line. It was right there and I was determined to run to the end. At this point my gluteus went tighter and started hurting, I had the impression that I wasn't moving at all. I could see my feet running but I felt like I was digging a hole.
Yards after yards I got to the last turn and all I could think of was converting the yards in metres to give me that last push to finish the race.
Here it is, I crossed it trying to restrain from crying. The feeling is indescribable: happiness and adrenaline combined together. Suddenly, I can only hear the screaming of joy of one of the girls who runs towards me and gives me a big hug and all I can think is I want to run again soon.

O guerriero tra le nuvole.

Non ci posso credere, la scorsa notte si è spento Pietro Taricone a soli 35 anni. E' morto mentre viveva una delle sue passioni: il paracadutismo.
Lui, O guerriero, sempre diverso da tutti gli altri ha vissuto fino in fondo inseguendo i suoi sogni e cercando di realizzarli a modo suo senza scendere a compromessi.

Mi dispiace tanto che se ne sia andato, non perchè era un personaggio della televisione, ma sapere che un ragazzo così pieno di vita adesso non c'è più mi mette sempre un pò di tristezza; forse perchè mi ricorda di un'altra giovane vita spezzata tanti anni fa.

Non credevo che ci fossero solo 4 anni di differenza tra noi due e ciò mi ha fatto pensare ancora una volta che la mia avventura nell'emisfero del sud sia la cosa giusta da fare, un giorno toccherà pure a me ed è quindi giusto che anch'io viva la vita fino in fondo, senza sprecare questo dono prezioso che molto spesso tutti diamo per scontato e come qualcosa che ci sia dovuto.

Buon viaggio Pietro.

Dublin Mini Marathon and beyond...

My last June Bank Holiday weekend in Ireland has just gone and I have spent it in the way I love the most: outdoor adventure, running and good craic with friends.
On Friday morning before heading down to the kingdom (Kerry) I had my long run of the week. This time I ran for 16km, when I was approaching the 9km I thought that Phoenix Park is not big enough now that I'm adding up more miliage. Problem solved when I took a deviation and discovered a whole new Phoenix Park. I have this image of myself running and running in this field where the grass is not cut, like in those cartoons I used to watch when I was a child.
I think running like other passions you might have is not only about being fit, which is a great thing on its own, but mainly your mind that feels free from everything. It's like there's a door that opens and lets all your imagination flowing and expanding. You come up with a new idea, solution or way to see things each run, especially the long ones. I don't know whether it is that I have more time to think about something or the major effort I put on a long run.

I have to say that after this long run my right foot started hurting a bit. I was a bit concerned whether I would recover in time for the climb of my old friend Carrantouhill.

It is a mountain located in County Kerry, and is the highest peak in Ireland. It is 1,038 m (3,406 feet) tall and is the central peak of the Macgillycuddy's Reeks range; meaning "The Black Stacks". There are two other peaks in this range above 1,000 m (Beenkeragh, 1,010 m; and Caher, 1,001 m).

Luckly it didn't hurt for the 9 hours hike, but I was almost limp for the next day and half and I recovered just in time for the Flora Mini-Marathon, which I finished it in 01:01:12.
If I think the first of the category Over 60 did it in 46:38...well, that's the beauty of sport, you're always young and can achieve everything you want.

Despite this hard weekend and the fact that the foot was still hurting, I made the mistake of not listening to my body, so I kept training.
Rule #1 DO NOT RUN if your body is telling you not to.
As consequence, I ended up being forced not to do anything for the following week: no swimming, no hike, no spinning and no run. And to make it worse I also had an infection in my stomach.
I had to do some research myself as the doctor was useless, and found out that these two symptoms are caused by overtraining.
Damn! I was doing so well! I was following my training schedule, I was focused not only on running but other things I was doing during the day, positive thinking ect...
But now this week, I felt behind the bars and I struggled to focus on things.

Today I felt better and I was able at least to go to the park for a walk, since the pain is not that strong anymore. I walked for about 5km, but with two breaks: one because I wanted to lie down and enjoy the nice weather and the other because I needed to and didn't want to force the foot work too much...I've learnt my lesson.

I hope I can start training little by little again next week as the Half Marathon is in two weeks time. For whatever reason I feel confortable about it, even though I haven't run that far yet.
Fingers-crossed!

It's time to move on!

Last Friday I took a deep breath, jumped out of my desk and asked my boss for a "chat"...I handed my notice.
Despite we head a couple of meetings in the last month, he seemed surprised of what he was hearing. I don't know, perhaps he was hoping I was going to change my mind or maybe that it would have taken me a longer before I decided to leave.
He is a good manager, like not that many out ther. He is what I would call a 360° manager: he can be tough, but also understanding person. He likes to invest in the people of his team and he's also a good listener. Unfortunately, our roads will take a different directions soon and it would be easy find someone else like him, but I've got to try to do it my own way or I'll regret one day.
I have to say that it didn't feel great when I took the weight off my shoulders as I would have expected, but actually I felt anxious and kept asking myself whether I had done the right thing: leaving the safe harbour for a relatively unknown destination.
Quoting Lance Armstrong in Every second counts: "I want to feel this life as it occurs. Not as it might have occurred. Or as it could have been, if only."
I wasn't satisfied with where my career was going; I wasn't giving any contribution and I wasn't going to leave a sign or put a name out there.
I wasn't at peace with the reality of my life fron 9am to 5pm and I didn't want to wake up one day and find myself living a life.
I think below video is self-explanatory of how I felt 'till not long ago.



How many chances do we have in our life? It could be few, it could be only one more chance, and this time around I want to do everything to the absolute maximum.
I was sick of being sitting around and waiting for the right moment, for an answer or for a sign.
The secret to achieve anything we want in life lies within us, it's up to us to discover it.
What is this all about? I just want to give to myself a fair chance.

FunRun...

I am officially a runner since yesterday. I ran for the first time surrounded by 2,500 people. I don't like when on a sunny day, especially during the weekend Phoenix Park is packed with people, so I was a bit concerned on how I would have felt running in such a big number. It just felt great! I still have the imagine in my mind while running down the bridge at Grand Canal, of all those runners forming a river.

As my first race ever, my aim wasn't the time, but finish it, so I did. I have to say that unfortunately, the girls and I don't have an official time, as we're still debating whether the race started early or we were late (your call) and we didn't start from the start line so the chips didn't work . Therefore, we have all unanimously decided to take off 4 minutes of our time. If this was the case, my time would have been approx. 00:48:21. It's a long way from the 00:29:06 of the first place, but I'll get there one day.

So far, I'm proud of myself and my performance. I didn't feel tired for all 8k, never thought for a moment to quit and felt strong all the time. Surprisingly, I had a huge smile in my face for at leasat 6k, I couldn't keep myself from not smiling. I guess that's why they call it "fun"run.
Obviously, the Irish weather was part of the race too. It started raining just a hour before we started and didn't stop until I got home. I have to say that I didn't bother the rain; as L.A. says: "When it rains, I put a raining jacket on and go".

I kept a normal pace, despite I felt I could run faster, but I didn't want to push it on my first race and running the risk of ruining all the fun and the past training if I had stop because of the fatigue. On the last km though, I decided to switch on the engine and yes I could still breath.

I liked the feeling of being cheered on by random spectators and mostly of other runners who I arrived first and waited for us at the finish line. Now I know how it feels!
My thoughts during the race were for a woman on a wheelchair I saw yesterday afternoon at the Luas stop. I dediced that I would have run for her, so I did.

Carlingford: Singles Day Adventure...our way!

I have to say that the recent hikes I have been on in the past few months are the ones I have enjoyed the most. I don’t know if this is because I’m more into the outdoors activities now or because I’m more fit or just I simply enjoy everything that comes from Mother Nature. I’d also add that I see the life that surrounds me through different lenses.

Before, I looked but I didn’t see. Now I do.


















With my adventurous sometimes crazy friends from the Challenge Hikers group, I spent a beautiful Sunday hiking in the Carlingford Mountains.



















The highest peak of this ridge of mountains is Slieve Foy (Irish: Sliabh Feá), which rises to an altitude of 588 m. The chain of mountains of which it is a part rises at The Foxes Rock (404m), and runs for roughly 6km in a south easterly direction, culminating in Slieve Foy itself.


















At the foot of Slieve Foy there is the pretty three-street medieval village town of Carlingford (Cairlinn). From the top of it instead you can enjoy the view of Carlingford Lough and on a clear day (as we had) the Mourne Mountains. Now that few of us I have discovered the world of climbing, as soon as we spot the chance to try our skills, push ourselves to the limit and mostly have that feeling back of being a child(wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!), we certainly don't miss it.

Now that I look my picture on the left, I try to figure out how I'm still here writing this post. Look at me just on tiptoe! Well at least I look confident...

Run Ilaria Run

Well, I'm proud to announce that finally I have run 8.4 km in a row without a single stop whether it was because I had to cross a road or because my body refused to keep going.

Last Sunday, I ran the whole distance of Phoenix Park, from one entrance to the other and back again and the feeling at the end was indescribable. Now, for some (or many) of you who can show off your joglog might think what's so incredible with that, but for someone like me who 'till not a long time ago hated running or couldn't run for more than 2 minutes (literally) consecutively, this is a great achievement and motivation.

I have been picturing the full distance for a couple of days waiting for the moment to hit the road.
When I started at the gate as it is a little bit hilly I found it difficult, but that has become a routine of each training so I thought to myself that it would have gotten better in a few minutes. I was right! But still I wasn't feeling 100% in good form and the first negative thoughts came into my head, whether I'd be able to finish what I'd planned. Immediately, I got rid of this mental baggage and refocused on simply delivering my own best effort. So, I stopped worried of things I couldn't control and I started virtually scanning my body where everything seemed to be ok: legs still moving and not hurting, I could still breath normally and my hearth was somewhere in my upper body. I kept telling to myself to run metre after metre until I was feeling I could still run and at least try to get to Castleknock gate.
Then I saw the light at the end of the tunnel: the cars queuing waiting to cross the gate, so I said:"My heart still beats, keep running and add extra mileage, even if you don't run the whole distance".

Section by section I saw all my hotspots that I usually refer to measure the distance as I still don't have a footpod. On the way back, the only thing that I was thinking was that Pain is temporary and quitting lasts for good. It went on and on and when only a quarter of the distance was left to cover I even started picturing how it'd feel finishing without any interruption or giving up. I was so determined to finish the training that when close to the immaginary finish line a woman tried to ask me for something, I didn't stop and with a sort of sound that came out my mouth I apologised for not stopping. It might seem rude, but if I did all my efforts would have been vane and then I think that with all the people that are enjoying a sunny day at the park, why would you even think of bothering a runner?

Did I mention that my request for transfering my to the full marathon has been accepted?
Well, now you know.

May Bank Holiday with Adrenaline

Last May Bank Holiday was one my favourite weekends spent with The Challenge Hikers.
There was a lot going on squeezed in 3 days: on Saturday morning we climbed Mealrea and literally rock-climbed the top of the mountain. I was amazed at the fact that I didn't freak out when I saw the narrow path we had to walk and ravine just underneath are feet.

Actually, it was where all started...that feeling that you can do whatever I want with my body, I can push it to the limit where it's rather fear that runs through or as in this case was for me, pure adrenaline.
When I reached the top, it was like I was under drugs (not that I've ever tried any!): I could't stop talking, I was jumping and wanted more. I remember that at a certain point I was doing one of those little jumps just like at gym to adjust my feet to the grip, then suddenly I thought came into my head: I'm not tie up to a rope and I'm not at the gym. But still the void didn't scare me.
I kept going until I reached the top.




The hike went on and on for about 7 hours and eventually our poor feet deserved cold bath...


Saturday night was the party night of course, but we managed to get up all smiley and happy to add some other activities to our "log". Some of us did surfing and some others went horse-riding.
First time for me on a board as finally I convinced myself that it was better learning in cold waters without sharks, so at least I'd be worried only of one thing.

As if it wasn't enough, after lunch we climbed Croagh Patrick, which is renowned for its Patrician Pilgrimage in honour of Saint Patrick, Ireland's patron saint. It was on the summit of the mountain that Saint Patrick fasted for forty days in 441 AD. On 'Reek Sunday', the last Sunday in July, over 25,000 pilgrims hill-climbed in barefoot the Reek.



The last, but not least adventurous day was cycling 18km of the Great Western Greenway, a traffic-free cycling and walking facility which primarily follows the line of the famous Newport/Mulranny Railway that closed in 1937.



...below there's a summary of our wild weekend. (video courtesy of utopietube)

Cycling Tour around Italy

From North to South of Italy there are a lot of itineraries to follow if you want to travel in a different way rather than airplane, car or bus. It’s been years now since it is possible to carry with you your bike on the train paying only 3.5€ extra for the whole day.

The trails replace old train tracks, embankments of rivers, old roads. Using these trails, the Fiab (National federation friends of bycicle) has drawn “The Sun Bycicle Trail”, an itinerary for those who love travelling by bycicle from Trentino to Sicily.

Here there are some ideas:

Trentino Alto Adige
A 350 km-ride between valleys and mountains. It goes from Albes-Bressanone, then on the train to San Candido cycling to Dobbiaco and Brunico. Again on the train to Brennero followed by a ride to the valleys of Fleres, Ridanna, Racines and Vipiteno. On the fourth day a ride down the valley of Funes and Rodella and the last a descent down to the town of Bolzano.

Lombardia
A 20 km- along the banks of Mincio river.
From Peschiera del Garda to Pozzolo. This is an itinerary suitable also for families.

Emilia/Liguria
Following in Hannibal’s footsteps (150 km). This itinerary is divided into 3 stages along the Val Trebbia and Val d’Aveto, which is called Hannibal’s route, as this follows in the route that the carthagenese warrier. It travelled along. The itinerary goes as follows: Piacenza – Bobbio – Marsaglia – Rezzaoaglio – Passo della Forcella – Chiavari. You can end your journey leaving your bike for a while and jumping on a kayak.

Lazio
Appian way – 50km
It’s a trail that will take you from the Appian way to the lake Albano through history, archeology and nature.

Campania/Apulia
This 360 km of Borbon trail will take you from Bari to Naples through five stages:
Bari – Castel del Monte (70km); Castel del Monte – Melfi; Melfi – Caposele (78 km); Caposele – Avellino (63 km); Avellino – Napoli (68 km).

Sardenia
400 km in 7 days as follows: Porto Torres – Fertilia (44 km); Capocaccia – Ittiri; Ittiri – Valledoria; Valledoria – Santa Teresa di Gallura; Santa Teresa – Cannigione where getting on a ferry boat you could visit the islands of La Maddalena and Caprera. Then Cannigione – Porto Cervo e finally Cannigione – Olbia.

Sicily
A 350 km coast to coast of the most beautiful island in the Mediterranean.
It’s a pretty hard itinerary reccommended only to fit cyclists and mountain bikers along the coast of Sicily and the mountains. The starting point is the town of Agrigento with its Valley of the Temples nearby, passing by the nature reserve of Cammarata and Park of Madonie to end in the town of Cefalu’.

The Great Wall of ...Norther Ireland

The Moune Mountains are located in Northern Ireland in County Down and they are some of the best granite mountains in Ireland, where quarries were huge part of the Kingdom of Mourne economy. These rugged, granite peaks are surrounded by golden beaches, deep forests, and emerald fields.

The beauty of the mountains was immortalized in one of William Percy French’s songs: “Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea”. And believe me, they give you this feeling once you get to the top and look down to start your descent.

Our challenge began at the Bloody Bridge in Newcastle,

climbing Slieve Donard highest peak (850m), where Slieve is from the Irish word “sliabh”, meaning mountain.

We trekked up to the Mourne Wall, a man-made, dry-stone wall built between 1904 and 1922, in order to provide work during a period of high unemployment. The wall is 2m high, a meter thick, and over 35 km long, lying across the summits of 15 of the surrounding peaks.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t finish the pre-planned hike as the weather was mental all day long. We had to put on and take off are waterproof gear for the duration of the hike, as the weather was mental. It was sunny at the beginning, then started raining, windy, misty and finally when we get to the top of Slieve Donard it also started hailing. But as it wasn’t enough we also had thunders and lightings all the way down. And surprise surprise! We got to the valley, guess what? The sky cleared up again, as if nothing has ever happened before. At least we were able to dry up.

Another inspirational way of living your life way up...

I came through an article yesterday which was talking about an American guy, Dean Potter who not only climbs up some of the highest mountains in the world, but then he base-jumps off them, without mentioning free-soloing, highlining and baselining. In one word: freebasing.

I could try to explain it, but I think his videos do a better job. He climbs up the most difficult side of the Eiger with only his fingers, toes and a 5lbs parachute and then falls/jumps off.

For him, it’s not just a physical experience, it’s also spiritual as he stops to meditate before falling 9,000 feet in about three minutes.
You can sense his kinship with the cliffs and the rock-faces while he drags himself up with just his fingers and toes.

It is just AWESOME! It’s a long way to go from my Indoor-climbing to the Eiger.

I got bit by the hiking bug

Today I led my first moderate hike and I have to say that last night and early this morning I was a bit anxious about my navigations skills and the fact that I probably didn't give the right directions to get to the meeting point.
Last Sunday I attended a Compass and Map reading course in order to be able to organise more hikes and to get ready for my Rainbow trip as it will include lot's of hike especially in New Zealand.
I was worried to fail, but then I remembered that I read somewhere (actually I think it's on one of Lance Armstrong's books) that you can lear from failure and also I thought: "Who said it is going to be a failure? I haven't even left home and already have thisk kind of thoughts! Think positive." And as it always pays having a positive attitude, things went well, people enjoyed the hike and I enjoyed it too.

We walked in a sort of a loop starting from the car park near J.B. Malone Memorial. JB was one of the greatest pioneers of Irish hillwalking and was able to fulfil his long-cherished dream of a waymarked walk throught the Wicklow Mountains.

Our first climb was Fancy Mountain so we decided to head South and circumnavigate the South side of Lough Tay (Lake Tay) and crossing Cloghoge river. Then, we started climbing Fancy mountain (595m) from the East side as there were quite few new comers and we wanted to avoid the steepest part with cliffs overlooking the lake on the West side of the mountain.

After enjoying the lovely view of the river from the top, we descended to reach the Sheepbank bridge in order to be able to start climbing this time War Hill (686m).

Before starting it the group split up as "lazy" ones wanted to skip this 30 mins extra and instead heading straight to Djouce mountain.
I don't know why but I felt the fatigue climbing this hill rather than the other two.
After another group photo, this time of only the brave ones who dared, we finally headed to our final destination: Djouce Mountain (725m), which I'm still trying to figure out which way is the correct way to pronounce it.
Then we skipped the last hill of the loop, White Hill (725m) as some people where already daydreaming of being at the car park and others in a pub.

The descent was done going through part of the sleeper tracks that form the Wicklow Way.
The path brings you to a super belvedere which overlooks Lough Tay and the great Lagga crag.
At the end of this great day out, we stopped for our usual and well-deserved refreshment in pub in Roundwood village.


I had fun today and enjoyed when I was arranging the hike. Looking at the best route on the map, compass bearing, taking pictures for my blog and and and album on FB and so on.

It takes a lot of time and work, but it pays being out there, looking around, listening to the birds twittering...

Easter celebrations!

I'd say I owe my hometown (Caltanissetta) a post...

This is her during her most busy time of the year, from Palm Sunday to Easter Monday.

What I like the most is the "Real Maestranza" (Royal Workers), which was established in 1806 and included a parade through the city centre of different ancient work guilds: from miners to bakers and so on.

On Thursday evening there is the "parade" of the Mysteries. Statues that represent Via Crucis and Passion Christ. They are made of wood, papier-mache and plaster. Dated 1881, ordered by the miners of Gessolungo who wanted to thank Christ for saving them from a narrowly escape death.



The City Hall.

And The Plaza (Piazza Garibaldi)

If you want to know more, please visit http://www.settimanasantacaltanissetta.it/giovedi-santo/giovedi.html


I hope you decide to come and visit us one day.

Ireland's Highest Bog Trot

After the lovely Easter break back home, I have to keep up with my blog and my adventures.
Before the break, we went to what is called "Ireland's Highest Bog Trot.
We followed a sort of loop starting from Black Hill (602meters), went west trying to avoid descending too much ground before heading to Mullaghcleevaun (849meters), which is the second highest mountain in the Dublin/Wicklow area.
From here we headed down to Billy Byrne's gap before heading upto Moanbane summit.
We took a relative short walk across to Silsean(698meters) which due to the broken nature of the ground took longer than anticipated.
From here it is descent all the way to Ballyknockan. Its a long descent and I found it tough on the feet so take a little extra time.



Just in case you wonder why it's called Black Hill!

A cute little pond on the top of Moanbane. The name (Móin Bhán: white bog) must surely be derived from the carpet of bog cotton (cottongrass) that covers this and the surrounding hills in early summer.
It was the first time in 2 years of hikes that I heard some birds chirping. I felt even closer to the Nature.

And finally the kids got to play with the last snow of the season.
My camouflage wearing white didn't work quite well...
Believe it or not, that was my first time and I loved it. I was pushing myself into doing something I always wanted to do, but never did for fear. I felt the adrenaline.

Sut mae, croeso I Gymru! Hello, welcome to Wales!

As I am a quite new blogger I thought I should post some past hikes I have done.
One of my favourite is certainly Snowdon in Wales. Since I joined the group of like-minded hikers I have also started to celebrate Public Holidays outside at the open, so last year along with the core group of the Challenge Hikers we decided to spend the New Year (2009) climbing Mount Snowdon.

We rented a cottage in Betws-y-Coed. It felt so well, far from the noices of the city, clean air, just surrounded by the Nature.

We opted to climb Snowdon on the 2nd of January as we needed some rest after the fatigues of New Year's celebrations. :) But as we didn't want to feel guilty of being too lazy and also wanted to make the most of it, we still went for a stroll in the countryside on the 1st...not without having filled our stomaches up with the famous Bryce's pancakes.
First time I've seen so much snow altogether.



So the big day arrived and we headed towards the starting point of the trek, the car park at Pen-y-pass at the top of the Llanberis Pass on A4086, while the thermometer of our car was displaying -7°C. and the colour of my hair can prove it!


The Pen-y-pass car park is the start of three popular routes up to Snowdon, namely the Pyg track, Miners track and the Crib Goch.

The Pyg track is a well laid path and well preserved which ascends along the top of the Llanberis Valley with an astonishing panoramic view of the vallay and heads towards the bulk of the Bwlch y Moch. The Pyg track continues its ascent of Snowdon's massif until it reaches a less defined path with sign posted to Crib Goch.


It's at this point that you need to decide whether the condition are ok and people that are with you can handle what's waiting ahead. If not, you can simply keep following the Pyg track up to the summit.

There is a smaller path that leads upwards for a steep ascent of Crib Goch. The path is at first well defined, however, the further you go the higher and steeper it gets and also less defined.
From here on there is no path, but a 1km long grade and 1 scramble.
Once you have proved to yourself your climbing skills, you will find a ledge at the end whose highest point is at 923m.
From here we went ahead towards the Garnedd Ugain, a wide ridge to the summit. Affter that we followed a path that led up to a short climb to the summit of Snowdon or yr Wyddfa as called by the locals.

And here is our Peter waving at us from the summit.

We descended following the path back down side of the railway track until we reached the Finger Stone at Bwlch Glas. This path leads down towards the blue waters of Glaslyn and Llyn Llydaw in a zig zag way, which is slippery and contains large slabs.

By the time we went down the sun came out of course!

In circle around Glenmalure Valley and Lugnaquillia

We started the walk at the top of the Glenmalure valley via Fraughan Rock Glen, then back via Cloghernagh, covering approx 15KM, including two very steep ascents and then up on to Lugnaquillia, which is the highest mountain in Wicklow (925 metres).

After a sheltered lunch at the foot of Lugnaquillia, we came back down on a loop walk, zigzagging across the ridge over the Avonbeg river and back onto the road towards our starting point, the car park near the hostel at Glenmalure valley.

The best way to get to Glenmalure from Dublin or Bray would be to get onto the N11 heading south. Get off it at Kilmacanogue and head for the Roundwood / Glendalough / Laragh direction. Go through Roundwood, then Annamoe and to Laragh. At Laragh take the turnoff for Glenmalure / Rathdrum and fork to the right heading for Glenmalure. Drive over the hill and down into Glenmalure.