the long trek to Glendalough

I met Malin, a Swedish girl who worked at the hostel, on this evening out and we got to talking. I found out that she had not been outside of Dublin city for about 3 months and as such was itching to do something. I mentioned the possibility of Glendalough and the plan was formulated for the next day. I had to be her wake up call at 9:30am ready for the 10 o'clock bus but after getting misdirected - by a couple of policemen, mind you - and subsequently lost we must've just missed it by a few minutes. There wasn't another bus until 6pm. What to do, what to do...
Malin had the idea to jump on the DART (rail system) and see a place called Howth on the coast. Sounded easy enough but somehow we again got lost trying to take backstreets and ended up walking aimlessly around the city for a couple of hours with all of my gear, coming across a city marathon before eventually finding the train station.
We only had a couple of hours in Howth but it seemed like it was a lovely relaxing beachside town. I imagined the streets full of holidaying families and the green parks converted into a temporary fairground over the summer months, kids licking icecreams from a takeaway while the parents looked through the window of the local arts and crafts store. Unfortunately this was not our experience. It was cold and it was windy. We rugged up with about 30 layers each and found some backstreets to explore, one of which gave us a nice view over the town's cemetery with its centuries-old collapsed-roof stone church and the ocean in the background. After a bite of lunch at the local pub we had a bit more of a wander, with just enough time to discover another old church hiding away from the town centre before we had to return to Dublin.
Well, we weren't going to miss this damn bus again so we walked straight to the bus stop on the other side of the city (we got off the train a few stops too early we realised) and the bus was waiting. We paid our €20 each (!) for the return trip and were on our way. I think we were both pretty stuffed after our long day of walking with all the extra baggage and we both fell asleep on the bus only to be woken up to the bus driver saying, "Wakey wakey, sorry to disturb your slumber but we have arrived." By this point it was around 7:30pm and it was pitch black outside. The driver pointed us down a dark road, untouched by the glow of street lamps or even moonlight, and shrouded in trees. We followed a small trail of others who had similarly been pointed in that direction thinking that they would know the way better than us - why, I do not know.. They didn't let us down though and we soon found ourselves looking at a homely looking yellow building in the middle of nowhere.
In the reception, out the corner of my eye I spotted an A4 printed sheet pointing out that I could have my accommodation and breakfast for free (including the tastiest muesli you've ever laid your tongue on) in exchange for a bit of work. I had no plans over the next week, apart from the fading possibility of getting work on a farm near Belfast, and so I thought 'why not.' And thus my time in Glendalough began.

Photos:

a church

Malin and I in a traditional Irish pub

another church

and it begins...