Obstacle Course Rating - Turf Warrior November 2014

Turf Warrior

Leenane, Connemara, County Galway 01/11/2014

This was our last outing this year, at the start of this month.  We had a smaller group of ten out this time, all of us taking on this event as part of a friend's stag.  

Ratings

Price 4/5

Hard to judge the pricing as this time out we got a package deal for the stag party, including accommodation and the race entry, but the price in September was €55 for a single entry, and they also offered a group rate, although I have no idea how much they knocked off for it.  However, they do not charge anything extra for parking or spectating, which is a big plus.

Timing 3/5

Coming to that time of the year when it's getting a bit cold to be running through the bog, although you are advised to wear a wetsuit, whether you bring your own or rent one from the adventure center is up to you.  The weather was a bit miserable for us, but then again it was great the week before, so it's a lottery, really.

Distance 4/5

10K, a nice handy one, manageable for most people, but long enough for it not to be a walk in the park at the same time.

Course 4/5

An excellent mix of natural terrain and original man made obstacles, among beautiful scenery.  The trail through the bog was brilliant, you could try to be clever and match the person in front of you step for step, and still end up landing in a surprise bog hole that your unsuspecting 'scout' had passed over without incident.  The rope swings were also very good fun, especially when someone else botched it and ended up sprawled in black goopy muck.  There was also a section where you had to wade waste deep through a trench of a thick viscous peat, which was a lot harder going than expected.

They had monkey bars, so I was happy.  Until I got to actually using them.  The bars were created by fixing four ladders over a pit, which you used in the traditional way.  These were quite narrow, which made things tricky but a challenge is always good.  The only problem was that, at least on the ladder that I used, there was a wire across each rung, apparently to protect the wooden steps from wearing down when used for their original purpose.  This wire now only serves to dig quite painfully into the palm of the user's hand when their entire body weight is being suspended by one arm.  The resulting bruises make you feel like the stigmata is coming out through the palms of your hands for the next week or so.  Two weeks on I am still aware of it when I change gears.

The sniper was utterly pointless as he was firing at us through a net which protected us from getting shot in the face, but also meant that all he had to aim at was our legs.  I'd be surprised if he hit anyone.

Dirt Levels 5/5

I think all the events this year have scored full marks on mud, and this one is no different, although I'm fairly sure there were at least three new types of muck I've never seen before.  Really dirty, really fun.

Waiting Time 3/5

There were two or three areas where participants could only pass through one at a time, and, particularly on the rope areas, this happened quite slowly, and so the only thing to do was wait.  And wait.  And then wait a bit more.  It must have taken ten minutes of standing around before we actually got around to making our way along the ropes, which is a long time when you're already wet.  In other areas though things moved along quite well.

Safety 2/5

To be honest, the reason I decided to include a safety section in any of the ratings I have done is directly as a result of this event.  Over the course of the day I saw one guy nearly drown and another come very close to falling headfirst from a high platform.  I had reservations about the swimming area as well.  I'll go into the near drowning incident in full below.

In other events, we have been warned in no uncertain terms before the race starts that if we are unable to swim not to attempt such and such an obstacle, and we are told once again when we reach the obstacle in question.  However, at this event there was a slide that could land you in water that could be chest deep or out of your depth, depending on your velocity by the time you reach the end.  There should have been at least one lifeguard, with a float or a ring buoy on hand in the event that someone should get into difficulty.  As it was there was nothing in place and the closest steward was at the top of a big hill, which is why there was a near drowning.

The second big water obstacle was a jump of about 4-5m or so into the fjord.  One steward met people as they approached and advised them to wear the life jackets provided if they felt they needed them.  We were also told that we could either swim to the slipway a few hundred metres or so away, or if we weren't confident swimmers, we could come in by the rocks and wade to it from there.  There was nobody at the end of the platform telling people when to jump, this was left to common sense and one's own judgement as to whether or not the person in front of you was clear or not.  Bad idea.

Being a confident enough swimmer I opted to go without the life jacket, and swam the distance, stopping half way and coming back to check on the last of our team to make the jump to be sure he got to the edge safely as even with a buoyancy aid he wasn't at all comfortable in the water.  It was as I was bobbing around in the deep water that I made the following observations:

1. There were three stewards on the water keeping an eye on things: one in a RIB flanking the swimmers, moving over and back between the platform and the slip; and two in kayaks weaving in and out between the folks making their way through the water (it was one of these kayakers that came to aid the last member of our group in getting to the shallower water).
2. There were well over twenty people in the water making their way at varying speeds towards their destination, and most of them were trying to get there by swimming.

Really there was no way that three pairs of eyes could satisfactorily observe everyone in the water, (unless of course there was another person on the shore I had not noticed who could radio the guy in the RIB if they spotted someone in trouble).  It would be one thing if everyone had to wear a life vest, but I think the assumption was that everyone was wearing a wetsuit which would provide some extra buoyancy, but quite clearly they weren't.  If someone had got into difficulty and attracted the attention of the stewards it would have been the easiest thing in the world for an over-confident swimmer with no extra flotation to get exhausted and slip under the water unnoticed.

At one other point in the race, I was helping someone up and over an obstacle that was something like a half pipe with a rope to climb up.  Once he made it to the top he stood up and went to come down the other side, but lost his balance and nearly fell headfirst off the side of the platform.  Perhaps there were too many people crowding the area at the time, but it would have been an idea to have a railing or a barrier at the top to avoid an accident as it was a very near thing.

Finally the drop below the monkey bars was bloody long, and we saw one person land on a girl who was passing underneath, which looked quite sore, but could easily have broken her neck.

I love these races, and I am by no means suggesting that they are made so safe that they aren't any fun.  Sprains and broken limbs are injuries that, while unfortunate, could be reasonably expected over the course of any these events - landing wrong after climbing a wall, or running over uneven ground come with their own risks.  But when folks aren't warned about deep water obstacles, there aren't any lifeguards,  a loss of footing can send you falling off a high ledge and only 'common sense' is stopping the person on the platform after you from jumping on your head you're looking at serious inadequacies in safety.

Showers 5/5

Probably the cleanest I've been after one of these events.  There weren't any showers per se, but jumping into the open towards the end got nearly all the dirt from shoes, clothes, body and hair.  The large heated dome facility that they had for changing afterwards was truly a very welcome surprise, although some of our group didn't find it and got changed by the bus.  

Food 3.5/5

Hot soup and tea, very pleasant.

Fun 4/5

We had a great day out.  Nearly half the group had never done one of these before and they really enjoyed it.  Some of the longer stretches through the bog that could be quite monotonous are filled with hilarity as the person running beside you suddenly isn't there anymore and you turn around to find them struggling to climb out of a bog hole.  Some of the longer waits were a bit of a pain as that was when the cold started setting in.  The lackadaisical approach to water safety detracted from the experience for me also.

Overall  3.5
I'd like to point out that the stewards were all tremendously friendly and encouraging both before during and after the event, and the long section that I have included on the safety issues is in no way meant as a criticism of them in any way. I'm purely aiming to highlight the shortcomings of the areas that I felt were unsafe, in the hope that in future events these issues will be resolved, and allowing this to be one of the best events of the year.

What makes it unique?
The lengthy bog stretches, swimming in Ireland's only fjord, the best changing room facilities I've seen at one of these.   The option to rent a wetsuit (if you book it in time) is a great idea as well.

Recommendations
Rent a wetsuit or bring your own, I didn't as they were booked out and I didn't want to damage my one.  As a result I was pretty damn cold at the end.  If you opt to go 'sans-wetsuit' and can't swim play it safe and assume the water at the bottom of the slide is too deep for you.  If you're confident in the water but aren't used to long distances, wear a buoyancy aid for the long swim or stick to the shallows, and get clear from in front of the platform or from under the monkey bars because there could be somebody right behind you.

The Incident
One of the obstacles, a slide I'd estimate to be 50m long, which consisted of a sheet of tough plastic on a slope, which ended in a ledge depositing the slider into a large pool of water. This was attended by one steward, a girl who stood at the top and threw a bucket of water onto the slide before each person went down to send them on their way.  One of our group who wouldn't be a very strong swimmer asked this girl if the water was deep as he couldn't swim, and he was told 'Ah, you'll be fine'.

And thankfully he was.

I was the last of our party to slide down, disappointingly slowly, given the speeds I'd seen others managing on it, and landed in water that was chest-deep.  I climbed out the side and started making my way around the pool, pausing to take a picture of the team making their way along the next obstacle, a series of floating platforms.  It was at this point that someone began shouting for help, but when I turned to look I could see two guys at the bottom of the slide, one of them jumping up and down in the water and making all the noise.  He looked fine, and I couldn't see anything wrong, so assumed they were messing, so I turned back to take another picture, when somebody on the platforms directly across from the 'messers' began pointing and shouting for a marshal.  I turned and ran the 20 metres or so to the scene where I found three guys in the water, one of them being the one who called for help, the others no less than three feet from the edge.  The bigger of the two men was trying to climb on top of the other to keep himself above the water, submerging the smaller man.  It's been a long time since I've done any lifesaving training, but I did remember that the last thing you should do is get in the water, so I lay on the edge and extended my hand to the struggling man.  Unfortunately given the slope of the bank and the muddy conditions I ended up reaching too far and fell in as well.  I put my feet down, found the water to be chest deep, and took a step towards the two men, hoping to reach them and drag them to safety, but I stepped off a ledge and found myself out of my depth as well.  It was as I was backing up to distance myself from them again that the steward from the top of the slide jumped into the water between us, big fluorescent yellow jacket and all, and somehow managed to disentangle the two men, and helped the one in the most difficulty to the edge where I and others helped to get him onto the bank.  As I got out, the visibly shaken gentleman that had called for help in the first place told me that he (the drowning man) had tried to climb on him first.  The chap that had found himself being pushed under the water seemed unfazed by the encounter and stood catching his breath.

Seeing the rescued man sitting by the bank with his head in his hands and being seen to by the steward and the others I went about catching up with the others.

What was wrong with this scenario?
Given the time it took for me to react, I should not have been the first on the scene, but as I was I should have had access to a ring buoy or something to throw to the struggling men.  By the time the steward got to us there were three of us in the deeper water, and she jumped straight in, which, although heroic, possibly wasn't the safest option.  I don't know how well she had assessed the situation on her sprint down the hill, but in the end it worked, so fair play to her.

Thankfully nobody was hurt.

This concludes my rating of our Obstacle Course events for this year.  Watch this space for freediving, Movember and more!

Obstacle Course Rating - Adare to Survive September 2014

Adare to Survive

Adare, County Limerick 28/09/2014

Team Name: Obstacle Illusion

For some of us, this was our second time taking on Adare to Survive, having taken part in last year as well. However, we more than doubled our numbers, as this year we came in force, with a group of twenty-nine, mostly members of the Kildysart Currach Club in County Clare, and a lot of first timers.

Some of team Obstacle Illusion

Ratings

Price 4/5

We paid a group rate of €40 for our group, although we didn't exactly get in early, in fact, we ended up paying the week before.  If we'd been organised we might have got a better deal.  That price includes everything though, with no hidden extras for parking etc.

Timing 4.5/5

Again, this is Ireland, so weather is inconsistent from year to year (we did get rained on quite heavily in the beginning, but not for too long), but this is comfortably placed at the end of the season, just before the temperatures start dropping as we head towards winter, making the difference between a 'pleasant' day out (if you can call dragging yourself under barbed wire pleasant) and a miserable slog.  But then again I think I may be a fair weather obstacle courser!

Distance 5/5

7.5K a nice middle of the road distance, not too intimidating for first timers, but still worth getting out of bed for those who would be comfortable with a 10K.

Course 5/5

The course brings you around Clonshire and the surrounding woodlands.  Nice mix of natural obstacles and man made.  After doing a few obstacle courses you become used to seeing variations of the same things, however there were several obstacles in this that we'd never seen before, which made it very interesting.  The electrical obstacles were very tame this year, not much of a shock off them - although we still didn't linger too long under them.  Perhaps they'd been earthed in places, as we got there pretty late in the day and the ground was fairly torn up.  Plenty of upper body challenges, like ropes to climb and monkey bars, so I was happy!

Dirt Levels 5/5

Once again, another muddy event.  From crawling through mud under barbed wire and electric fences, to sliding down wet clay and jumping into muddy water, there is more than enough muck to keep your washing machine busy. 

Waiting Time 4/5

Very hard to rate this fairly as a group twenty-nine strong is going to cause congestion anyway, especially when you're waiting around for everyone to get through each obstacle.  The course seemed pretty spaced though, and we didn't get stuck behind anyone other than our own team all that much.  The only place where we ended up waiting for a while was at the big water obstacle 'The Adare to Survive Bombs Away'.

Safety 5/5

We were told before we set out that a certain obstacle in particular, 'The Adare to Survive Bombs Away', was a no-go for non-swimmers.  When we arrived at the 15 foot jump from a scaffolding into a large pool of muddy water which we were informed was 16 feet deep - impossible to know for sure, although I certainly didn't hit the bottom - non-swimmers were once again warned off it, and directed around it.  Nevertheless, six ring-buoy-bearing lifeguards lined the sides of the pool, and a steward on each of the three platforms kept things moving at a steady, but manageable pace.  Excessive, perhaps, but not smotheringly so, and there are four wheel drive ambulance/jeep things to get to those hard to reach places on the course.  The gang from the Red Cross who were on hand for the day were also lovely - one of our over-zealous supporters on the sidelines took a tumble while watching the event and was very well looked after in the first aid tent until we were able to pick her up and take her home.  So thanks for that you guys.

Showers 2/5

Fairly sure we saw people washing with some success under the big water containers when we passed by the outdoor showers during the run, but by the time we got to trying to get clean there was only a trickle of freezing water for us.  The technique that worked for me was to clear the worst from hands, face, hair and neck and then covered the rest up with a change of dry clothes  (some may use the word 'genius', but I don't like being labelled...).

Food 3/5

We took a long time getting around, due to the size of our group, so by the time we got there, Cully & Sully were folding up their table, which is sad, because I was really looking forward to that soup. We each received a banana and a bottle of water.

Fun 5/5

Definitely one of my favourite events, the stewards are all cheerful and really sound, and there's a great atmosphere in the 'spectators area', although from what I could see spectators had a free reign to wander around themselves.

Overall 4.5/5

What makes it unique?

Not sure if they will do it every year, but this year at least they ran a competition where entrants designed an obstacle for the event, which they would then include in the course.  A brilliant idea that I hope they'll keep going, as it almost guarantees that at least one obstacle will be completely different to anything you'll see at other events.  Management were also very helpful and very easy to deal with when setting up our team.  They were also very flexible on the cut-off date for registering our group, and when you get there on the day you're well looked after.  At the end of the race you receive your Adare to Survive dog tags, which is a nice change to the usual medal.  In theory you also get a t-shirt, and I think I saw people wandering around with bags of swag (vouchers for businesses in Adare town).  Still waiting on ours though, they're arriving in the post, apparently.

Recommendations
Highly recommended, a great day out.  Maybe bring two towels (old ones, leave your soft white Ralph Lauren ones at home), one for scraping off the excess dirt that you're caked with when the showers don't work for you, and then another for actually drying yourself.

Final Obstacle Course review coming soon, for Killary's Turf Warrior.

Obstacle Course Rating - Hell and Back June 2014

Hell & Back Apollo

Bray, Co. Wicklow 15/06/2014

This event, run by Alive Outside was the biggest we've taken on, both in terms of distance and number of people taking part, and was run over two days.  We ended up going on the Sunday because it suited a lot of us better.  We had a smaller group on this one, only twelve in the end - we originally had more, but some had to drop out due to work commitments, injuries (or just cold feet, hard to tell).

Ratings

Price 3.5/5

This is a big event, heavily publicised, and it is very close to Dublin.  Taking that into account the €42 we paid - once again an early bird group rate (but not the earliest), and thus a good bit cheaper than the full price - wasn't too bad.  However, then you add the €10 per car for the car park and shuttle bus.  It's not too unreasonable, but not super friendly on the pocket either.

Timing 5/5

Bang smack in the middle of summer.  Now, you're not guaranteed fine weather in Ireland at any time of the year, but we had an amazing day of sunshine, comfortably warm, gentle cool breeze.  It was perfect.  Probably the best time of year for one of these events.  Having two days of it makes it handy in that you are less tied down with your dates, and the Saturday books up fast anyway.

Distance 4/5

Difficult to rate this.  I loved the event, and was happy that there was so much of it, but I know some people who were planning for this to be their debut in obstacle courses, but were intimidated by the distance.  Really though, it didn't feel like it was as long as it was, it was well broken up by the various obstacles. 

Course 4.5/5 

Great use of natural terrain and man made obstacles.  Stunning views overlooking county Wicklow from a trail that lead us up and around the face of a mountain.  Plenty of obstacles, especially climbing over things, which are always highlights for me. Sniper Alley was brilliant, but unfortunately by the time we got there several of the snipers had left, so there were only two shooting at us.  I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad I didn't get hit, but still, would have liked to have been dodging more.  A strange complaint maybe.  The electrical obstacles were fairly powerful (at every event they tell us not to do these if we have pins, and I have 22 in my leg...but I go for it anyway - so never sure if I get hit worse than everyone else).  The stewards at "Shock of Horrors" were dedicated to their work, as one made sure to pat down the earth under the wires so that they weren't earthed, ensuring that we'd receive the full impact of the shock.  The other, a demon lady who stood at the sidelines and cheerfully informed those carefully picking their way through the dangling lines, "If you don't move fast enough, I'm going to shake the shit out of it!" while at the same time doing just that, making the electric wires dance and her unfortunate victims writhe, scream and sprint the hell out of there.  Hilarious to watch. Bloody awful when it's you under there though.

Dirt Levels 5/5

Yes, there is mud and muck in various shades and consistencies, and plenty of it.  Some visuals here will help.

Waiting Time 3/5

Actually the main waiting we did was for the shuttle bus from the car park to the event, but it was for at least forty-five minutes, and as a result we missed our wave and started a good bit later.  Which wasn't a very big deal, we weren't overly concerned, except for the fact that they seemed to be closing up shop in some areas by the time we reached them, as we took our time and helping each other through it, and towards the last few bits I was worried we were going to be shepherded off the course without being allowed to finish.

Safety 4/5

Plenty of stewards and not many areas where you could get into serious trouble, although there was one stretch of fairly deep water that maybe could have done with a steward on hand to make sure nobody went under if they were on their own.  Naturally there are parts where you could do yourself an injury, but that's what a waiver form is for.

Showers 4/5

A full shower block.  Communal showers, but a steady enough stream of water, enough to get rid of the most obvious filth.  The water was cold, but the weather was warm so it hardly mattered.

Food 2.5/5

Not much left by the time we got there.  Got a free carton of coconut water.

Fun 4.5/5
A really good day out, thoroughly enjoyed by everyone.  The weather helped of course, but there is also a very good atmosphere, and more or less every other participant has encouragement to offer, a hand to lend or a bewildered shake of the head to exchange as you both look at the next obstacle.  The anxiety caused by coming around a corner to find stewards getting ready to pack up and go home was the only sticking point really.

Overall 4/5

What Makes it Unique?
The scenic views.  Never been to Bray before, and would like to go back and spend a bit of time there again at some stage now that I've seen it.  The fact that they found an agent of Satan himself to stand by the electrical obstacle (big congratulations to that girl, she was brilliant).  The snipers in full camo hiding in the woods at "Sniper Alley".  Damn near impossible to see.  Couldn't hit me though, I'm too fast.  Good quality t-shirt - poor choice of colour - turquoise?  Yuk!

Recommendations
Think you'd be able for a 10K, but not sure about the extra 2?  Don't worry, give yourself plenty of time and you'll make it through.  Do it with some friends, the more the merrier, avail of the group discounts, book early and car pool!

Next up, Adare to Survive!

Obstacle Course Rating - Runamuck March 14

Just back from a terrific weekend in Westport after participating in Killary Adventure Centre's Turf Warrior event.  We did it for a friend's stag and it is the fourth such event that many of us had done this year.

Having done six of them in the last two years, with groups varying in size between 10-30 people depending on how many sucke...um...friends we could convince to come along, I think it would be fair to say that we've gained a pretty good knowledge of what we like and what we don't.  So, seeing as I have been meaning to write a blog post for the last ages, I thought I might try to rate the four we got through this year:

• Runamuck Challenge - March 2014
• Hell and Back - June 2014
• Adare to Survive - September 2014
• Turf Warrior - November 2014

Originally I was planning on writing them all in one post but given that there are quite a lot of elements to take into account (and my tendency to spout on) I'll give them a post each.

Runamuck Challenge Ireland 

Clonkeeran House, Kilshanroe, Co. Kildare - 01/03/2014

We did this with a group of 19, mostly first-timers, with some veterans of other events.  This one was on very early in the year, so things were pretty cold.  Participants have the option of doing 5K, which is one lap of the course, or 10K, which means going around a second time.  Being a fairly large group, we spent a lot of time waiting for each other to complete obstacles before moving on, so a lot of us felt the cold, especially the guys that ran ahead, and thus ended up waiting longer.  Half way around the first circuit I had decided that I probably wasn't going to go around again.  Of course, about a kilometre from the end,  when my sister cheerily asks me if I'm going to do 10K I had to say yes, not wanting to be shown up by my younger sister.  Ah pride. However because there were only seven of us going around a second time at a fairly good trot it wasn't nearly as bad.

Ratings

Price: 5/5

We got an early bird, group rate booking of €16 a head.  You're not going to find a more budget-friendly event.

Timing 4/5

The fact that it's one of the first obstacle courses you can do in the year.  The flip side of that being that you are at the mercy of the elements.  We were lucky to take part on a fine day in a particularly mild winter and it was still cold.  You could easily find yourself attempting this in a hard frost, or in the hail and sleet.  

Distance 4/5

The option of doing either 5k or 10k is great, as you can be borderline hypothermic after the first 5k, or perhaps you only thought you'd manage 5k, but when you get to the end you feel like you could go for another one.  I had heard a rumour that there would be different obstacles for those doing the second lap, which would make it a bit more appealing.  But this wasn't the case.

Technically I suppose there'd be no one to stop you if you decided to go around a third time either, but you may be committed to an asylum.

Course 3/5

Good use of natural obstacles, like streams and such, and agricultural bits, like the enormous stack of hay bales, or silage bales (which were very tough to get over).  I did feel like there could have been less wading, and a bit more clambering, as by the third or fourth water-filled pit we had to drag ourselves through it was getting a bit old.

Dirt levels 5/5

The name says it all, this is MUCKY!  Great if you like getting dirty, being submerged in mud, mud fights with your fellow teammates (or unfortunate innocents who get caught in the crossfire).

Waiting time 4/5

Most of the waiting around that we did was for members of our own group, we didn't often get backed up behind a queue of people waiting to attempt an obstacle, and most of them (the obstacles) could be attempted en masse, with few or none that needed to be taken one at a time, thus avoiding congestion.

Safety 4/5

Plenty of marshals, and no areas that were deep enough to be dangerous for folks who couldn't swim.

Showers 4/5

Not actually showers, but there were three guys with hot power hoses that sprayed people down.  Not immensely effective as you're still pretty muddy afterwards, and you only get about 30 seconds of a hose down, but it is fantastically warm, which is well needed, and quite rare in these events.  And, so long as you're not going on a first date or doing an important interview afterwards, a quick towel down and a jump into some dry clothes will see you on your way without making a mess of the car.

Food 3/5

Standard fare - hot soup, cereal bar and tea/coffee.

Fun 3/5

Everyone enjoyed it, including myself, although in comparison to other events I found the cold and the repetitive nature of some of the obstacles detracted from my enjoyment of it.  All the first timers enjoyed it, although not many of them have come back for a second helping at other events since then.  

Overall 4/5

What makes it unique?

The chill factor and the fact that it's the only one on so early in the season.  You also get a free mug instead of the usual t-shirt that you get for participating in these events (although you can buy one).   It's also the only event I've been to where you are chipped, so you know your time.  Our group wasn't what you'd call competitive, so this didn't matter much to us.

The price, again, is a big draw.  

Recommendations

I would definitely recommend having some sort of wetsuit to keep you warm for this, especially if you're with a large group that will require a bit of waiting around for.  If it was possible to rent wetsuits on site (as you can with Turf Warrior - review coming soon) it would be very handy.  Maybe I'm being a sissy girl.  But I don't care.  I don't know if I'd necessarily recommend this for your first outing, I may have mentioned this already but it is pretty cold, with the potential for misery accompanying it if you're standing around too long.  But if you've done an event before and you know what you're in for, go for it.

We were lucky enough to have the talented Anne De Sophie as our official team photographer for the day, and she put together the following montage, which is worth a look if you're interested in seeing some of the highs and lows of the day.  

I did have my own camera, an Olympus Tough, that I've brought with me for most of these events, but my hands were shaking too much to use it for the most part, so I handed to a friend who was spectating quite early on.

Next Review Hell and Back June 2014

Nighttime Rescue

I have a confession to make, and I hope you won't think less of me once I tell you.  

One of the things I've been fascinated about for a long time is the practice of "dumpster diving", basically rooting around in skips for bits of use or value, or that are vaguely edible.  I understand that (mostly in the States, but also in the UK) there are Freegans, who live solely off what they find in dumpsters in their locality, relying on them for food, clothes, furniture, you name it, basically.

Well, after work this evening as I was walking my sister home (about 1 am), we discovered a huge metal skip that had been placed in the car park outside her apartment and filled with junk.  I didn't even think much about it, until my sister, who I think will probably wish to remain nameless for this one, gasped, pointing at a box of books sticking out of the lower end.  My jaw dropped - who throws out books? 

So I pulled a few out.  

Then, looking higher up the mound of rubbish, and seeing more boxes with books and DVDs in them I clambered up and on top of the heap and had a bit of a rummage.  Sister was mortified, but very nicely stuck around, hissing at me to get down, mind, but not wanting to leave to go inside - I suppose in case I broke my neck getting out of it.  Every time a car passed she hid around the side of the skip, and at one point a few people passed on foot, and she feigned interest in the property listings in the auctioneer's window.  I just stayed still, hoping to remain unnoticed in all the dross.  I think I probably spent about 15 minutes up there, during which time I found a discarded holdall and shoved as many books as I could inside, along with some DVDs, a few of those small records (45s?) and a painting of a sheep.  I was going to leave the sheep, but there was a sticker with €20 handwritten on the frame, so I said I might as well.  The frame was smashed to bits, so I left that. To be honest, not many of the titles appealed to me all that much, there seemed to be a good few about Germany and World War II, but I will go through them again in the morning, and what I don't want I'll drop down to the charity shop.  Honestly, throwing out books!

My swag is currently drying out around the dehumidifier.  I will review the situation in the morning, but overall I'm pretty happy with the night's achievements.

Listowel Writer's Week 2014 (Part 2) Revenant

I had been expecting to work last night, but I got a call in the morning asking if I could fill in for somebody who was sick, so I did and got the evening free.  I have a Couchsurfer staying for the weekend, a regular Writer's Week attendee, and she had booked a ticket to the play in St. John's, so I said I'd head along too.

The play was called Revenant, but this wasn't published in any of the booklets or on any of the listings for St. John's.  Last minute cancellation by the production that was originally supposed to be on, and this one had filled in at the last minute (somewhat ironic as this is more or less exactly how Revenant opens).  The result was an audience of about twenty people, which was a pity.

Before I go on, I should probably make it quite clear that I am not a theatre critic, but I know what I like and I'm well able to give out if something is shite, although I may not have the vocabulary or insight required to pull each part of a play to pieces and examine each bit in detail (although maybe I'm being too generous to theatre critics), but I really, really enjoyed this show.


Simon Toal's solo performance in this play by Stuart Roche was nothing short of outstanding.  He narrates as Carter, a film director whose lead actor lets him down two days before they start filming a zombie movie on an island off the coast of Mayo, but suggests a mysterious replacement, the dark and enigmatic Vardell, who, it turns out, has his own agenda.  I don't want to give away anything about the plot, so that's about all I'll tell you - but you can check out the official blurb in the link here.
I'll be honest, it took me a few minutes to figure out what was going on, and as it was my first time seeing a solo performance, I had to get used to Toal being 'more than one person' as he played out both sides of a conversation.  But he did it utterly convincingly, and by scene two I was immersed in the story, which moves quickly, but coherently, darkly, but with plenty of witty observations and interactions thrown in to lighten it.  I find myself smiling every time I think of his lines as the 'Rich Kid'.  There were stages where I forgot where I was, when I was actually on the island with Carter as he went looking for Vardell; when I started at moments of high suspense; and plenty where I laughed out loud.  

The quote from the Irish Times review, included on the advertising for the show, mentions 'media in-jokes', and there were, and I got a good few of them, but there were probably a few I missed.  I would enjoy it if Daniel Radcliffe were to find himself in the audience, though.

Overall, can't fault it anywhere, I know I probably should, to make for a proper review but like I said, I'm not a critic (though I can be critical) .  I would highly recommend to anyone who is in Dublin this Friday (6th June) to make their way to Draícht in Blanchardstown to check it out.  I think it's also going to be in Galway sometime soon, so you might try that either.

Due to the small audience and the fact that he was a spectacularly nice guy, I had the opportunity to chat with Simon and his wife (or partner - didn't ask), but only after my Couchsurfer had got him to put back on his stage clothes so she could get a few pics of him, which she did, for about 10 minutes, getting him to take up different poses, even though the poor man must have been exhausted.  It had been an energetic, 85 minute performance, for which he spoke almost constantly, he had to have been exhausted, but he played along for as long as it took.  A true gent, and I was happy to have got the opportunity to congratulate him.  I will be eagerly looking out for more from both Stuart Roche and Simon Toal in future.

As an aside, it so happens that I'll be in Dublin myself next Friday evening, but I'll be attending what I've taken telling people (including Mr. Toal) is a stag, but is actually a 'pre-hen'.  A new term that means that I can go out with my soon-to-be-wed friend Elaine and many of the other ladies who will be attending the actual hen, being held the following night in a mystery location, but without the willy straws and what have you.  It's just easier to say it's a stag.  People ask less questions.  It is unfortunate timing though, because otherwise I would be sending them all to Revenant.

Listowel Writer's Week 2014 and other stories

Hello again.

The less said about April's high hopes for a solid month of daily blog entries, the better.  I should probably have set the bar a little bit lower.  Maybe three a week.  I might try that this month.  No promises, let's see what happens.

News-wise, I suppose I probably should let you know that the relationship with Anne-Sophie that I introduced just seven entries ago has, sadly, come to an end.  'Ran out of road', as the man says.  I am confident that we will remain good friends.

One thing I have since discovered about myself that I am quite bad at relaying this information to people who I should probably inform - don't really like talking about my personal life (just rather spew it all onto the internet, I suppose).  'People I should inform' really means the people who know both of us, or who I work with, who during the course of a conversation will ask how she is.  Now, if they phrase it, 'How's herself?'  or similar, this leaves me open to divulge that there is no longer a 'herself', but that Anne-Sophie is fine, which is grand.  What tends to happen, though is that people will ask, 'How's Anne-Sophie?', and so I launch into the answer of the question, 'Happy out now, sure she's found a new job and it's going well,' etc, and the further I get into it the harder it gets to then add the news about the break-up.  Ah well, word will get around soon enough I suppose.

Now, for Writer's Week, which is probably why you're reading this (that being the title).  I have been working in Listowel for years, and have been around for Writer's Week most of them, but when I was living outside of town, coming in to see what was happening on my nights off seemed like too much hassle, when I wasn't really sure if there'd be anything I'd be interested in.  Now that I'm within easy walking distance from all the events, though, I'm sorry I didn't make the effort before. 

Thursday night was the only night that I expected to have off, and I was caught up between doing the Literary Pub Trail at 8 pm, described in the leaflet as a "drama-filled trail of the hosteleries of Listowel", and a play in St. John's at 8:30 pm.  In the end, my friend and I decided that we'd start out on the Pub Trail, which was free, and if it was shite, we'd skip on over to St. John's, as we'd be setting off in the Square anyway. Thankfully the Abbeyfeale Drama Group put on an excellent show for us on our tour of the pubs, and we didn't even think about jumping ship (just as well, as the queue for the play was out the door, so there wasn't much chance of getting seats).  The drama provided were amusing scenes from the plays of John B. Keane, most of which I hadn't seen before, and all of which made me want to see the whole thing when I get the chance. I did notice that in the first pub (Christy's - where we were treated to an early scene from The Field), most of the crowd bought drinks, and had time to get them down, but as we progressed the interval between venues became tighter.  The bar that seemed to do the worst out of this was probably Mike the Pie's, as it was the third bar on the trail, and the penultimate destination.  The scene from Moll that was performed in the Saddle previously had been shorter than the first, I think, so people may have had to knock back their drinks.  That is only a theory I developed to explain why so many of the audience in Mike the Pie's seemed to be without a glass in hand, a phenomenon I hadn't remarked on in the others.  I would assume that Brosnan's did well out of the fact that it was the last venue and thus had a good few people stay on after the scene from Big Maggie.  If I had to chose one of the acts we saw, my favourite would have to have been the scene from The Chastitute, it seems like an hilarious play which I look forward to catching in full at the next possible opportunity.  Thank you, Abbeyfeale Drama Group, for a marvelous evening.

Finished the evening off in John B. Keane's pub (where else would you finish up for Writer's Week) and enjoyed the banter and atmosphere.  I did feel a bit out of place at first, as I didn't have floppy hair, a cravat, a waistcoat or a pocket watch, but I got used to it.

The highlight of the week, for me was last night, which I will proceed to tell you in a separate post.

Running: Ballybunion Half Marathon

So much for a post a day, but I'm not going to beat myself up over it (although I imagine all of you avid readers out there are devastated...), it turns out that finding stuff to write about without sounding like an opinionated moron is pretty difficult.  Particularly when you're an opinionated moron.  So sporadic posts it is until I have something interesting(ish) to say.

Anyway, yesterday I took part in the Ballybunion Half Marathon.  This was to be my first half marathon, and I can't say that I was the most prepared, both with regard to training and nutrition and time management, so basically did the whole thing like a complete cowboy.  Minus the spurs, hat and yeehaws.

Training-wise, I had been doing alright up until a few weeks ago, when I was trying to get out running at least two or three times a week.  One fine day at the end of March, I decided that instead of running around one of my usual loops in the town - ranging from 6-12km - I would run TO somewhere.  So I set my sights on Beal Strand, just outside Asdee, and, according to Google Maps, 13km from Listowel, where it was arranged that I'd meet up with Anne-Sophie and her visiting friend who would drive me back home.  I hadn't taken into account the fact that I would be using back roads I didn't really know, so the 13km turned out to be 18.9km (very nearly longer as I wavered at a junction unsure of which direction to take - thankfully I chose right).  I also hadn't realised quite how big Cnoc an Oir, the hill, or as I like to call it - mountain, between Listowel and Asdee is, or that it's another 6km or so from the peak to the shore (all downhill though).  It was a tough climb.  

A quick dip in the sea was as good as any plunge pool, although a young German Shepherd stood watching me warily as I splashed around, barking furiously as I started wading back in.  I thought he wasn't going to let me back on dry land, but soon realised he didn't know what the hell this thing coming out of the water was.  While still at a safe distance I splashed water everywhere an lurched towards him and he took off down the beach like a scalded cat.

Anyway, long story short, I took a few days to let a few little blisters heal up and didn't get out again since.  

On the nutrition side of things I finally got my list of food intolerances back from the nutritionist, basically a list of foods that I shouldn't eat for three months while my system heals up, including wheat, corn and potatoes, which meant that loading up on carbs the night before was a bit tricky.  I made a huge helping of Thai Red Chicken Curry for dinner and had half before work on Friday, putting the rest aside for the following day, but in the end deciding I'd be better served eating it at 1am Saturday morning when I got home from work and just before bed.  Breakfast on the day consisted of a couple of bananas and bits of chicken that I had cooked up for my post race dinner of curried fried rice, which I threw together before hand, because a) my intollerances would prevent me from eatingh any of the food that they had prepared for the runners at the event and b) because I would be hard pressed to get ready for work for 6 after the run.

I signed up for the race last minute, and, truth be told, I probably wouldn't have done it if a friend hadn't been driving from Tralee for it, and tore the house apart looking for running gear.

I set out at a decent pace, and kept it up until just after the four mile mark, where I started to feel the onset of blisters on the heel and toes my left foot.  I don't know if it was because I hadn't tightened the shoe properly or if that foot is the softer of the two, but I felt that if I stopped to straighten things out I would have difficulty getting going again.  So I decided to motor on and see how I went.  At that stage, with another nine miles ahead of me I just hoped I'd be able to finish.

The weather was gorgeous, although a lot of people grumbled about the heat, I always like running in the sunshine, especially with the fabulous views of the Atlantic and Shannon Estuary for the first seven miles.  A cool breeze blew in our faces for the seven miles out of Ballybunion, one consoling aspect of this being that it would be a comforting tail-wind on our way back, but by means of some bizarre meteorological phenomenon we found ourselves running against the wind on our return as well.

As I went further my pace dropped gradually as the blisters got worse and more developed on my right foot.  Having passed people pretty consistently for the first quarter of the race I was now only being passed.  Counting down the miles helped me through it, and once I got to mile eight I felt sure I'd make it.  The downhill stretch for the last mile was fantastic, and it felt great to pass the finish line in 57th place at 1:48:11, considering my estimate, based on the long run to Asdee, had been around 2 hours.  Plenty of room for improvement there I think.

I limped around looking for a first aid person to dress my aching left foot, afraid to remove my shoe until I did, for fear of what I would find.  When I finally did, the foot was significantly less impressive than I had imagined - the sorest parts being neither bloody or even showing any evidence to the casual observer (or, apparently, trained medic) of being blistered at all.  Disappointing.

I got him to dress it anyway, before gingerly sitting into the car, driving back to Listowel, showering, changing, wolfing down as much fried rice as I could, drinking a mug of coffee, sitting out and sleeping in the sun for fifteen minutes, and tearing off to work for a 10 hour shift at the counter (nipping home on my break for the rest of the rice).  Phew.

Most active day thus far, I think.

Ireland - Dumping and cleaning up.

Realise I've slipped a bit on my daily blogging.  Nine days in and only on my sixth blog entry.  I must try harder.  This one is only going to be a short one as I should really be in bed.

Anne-Sophie and I lent a hand to Listowel Tidy Towns today in their 7pm meet-up and clean-up of the town.  To be honest there didn't actually seem to be an enormous amount of litter to pick up, much less than other years, we were told, which is encouraging.

However, something that I've noticed generally is that illegal dumping still seems to be pretty common particularly in the countryside, which is unfortunate, as it utterly devastates the environment and detracts from people's (particularly mine) enjoyment of the idyllic surroundings.  I noticed on one of my runs a few weeks ago that someone had dumped two bags of rubbish into a drain beside the side road I was on.  On a random excursion to (and through, accidentally) the wind farm outside Tralee we found that somebody seemed to be using a little recess in the hill as their own personal landfill, and loose plastic bags and bottles had spread from there to a radius of several hundred metres.  Not nice.

I have heard people saying that it is "the Polish" that are responsible for the dumping - a conclusion that has been reached upon finding substantial quantities of Eastern European food packaging in bags of waste, although I'm pretty certain that the Irish aren't squeaky clean either.  I might add, however, that when we forgot to take our bins in from the street one day (in fact they had been forgotten about by our bin collection service so we were hoping that they'd come back for them - they didn't), we found two black sacks were very kindly deposited in our bin by a passing opportunist.  An examination of the contents of the bags revealed that they were not stupid enough to leave an address in there, although did confirm the presence of products that looked (to me) to be Polish in origin.  I also discovered they have a child of about two, judging from the nappy packaging, that they have at least one dog, they smoke, drink a certain brand of beer and they were complete douchebags.  The last conclusion was reached not solely from the crime of firing their rubbish in our bin (although I am glad they disposed of it there rather than chucking it into a field), but the worst of it was the fact that the greater part of the items in the bags were recyclable.  For free.  In the car park around the corner from my house.  Meaning that it couldn't be a question of price or of distance, merely a question of abject laziness and pure ignorance.  I'm getting angry just thinking about it.

I have noticed in my travels, particularly around Europe that waste disposal seems to be a service which appears to be free, although I imagine it comes out of the counties' taxes.  Skips for both recyclables and rubbish are left at strategic locations in cities and on roadsides in the country and the public can fire their unwanted items in and they are collected on a fairly regular basis.  One person's waste may even be of value, and some bits and pieces do end up being saved from the landfill - in Greece I rescued four patio chairs, two rugs and a pair of brightly coloured cushions from various skips on the streets surrounding my house.

I don't see why a similar system isn't adopted here.  It could help to save our environment and keep our tourist attractions pretty.

Cuba - Postcards

Just a short one this time to catch up (I know I've said that before but I do mean it).

Postcards - I did send them, but as usual I left it to the very last minute.  In all I think I got about six or seven out, hastily written to family and friends in a post office on my last day.  I had one postcard which displayed a close up of Fidel Castro that I had bought with a book earlier in the week but other than that I had nothing.  So after getting my rickshaw driver to carry me to several shops where we hoped we would find decent postcards, none of which I found to be much good, he carried me to the post office, where the lady at the desk showed me the postcards she had, which were sadly not very representative of the scenery or culture of the country. In fact they were crap, but they were the only options available to me at that stage, so I went for it.

It is two months since our return from Cuba, and none of my family here have received the cards that I posted.  No sign of the one I sent to work either.  Interestingly only one card made it, the one of Fidel, which arrived at my friend's house a few weeks ago.

Coincidence?  Or conspiracy.  Maybe they just looked at the rest of the cards and were afraid that the recipients would take one look at them and think the place was a complete kip.  They were really, really poor postcards.

The postcard that made it

Cuba - Money Money Money

We had learned from various source (online and in guidebooks) that it would be a good idea to change our money on our arrival at the airport in Havana in order to get the best rates.  We were also aware of the fact that there are two currencies in use in Cuba - the convertible peso (CUC$ - informally called the cuc) for tourists, and the peso (CUP - also called moneda nacional) for everyone else.  There are 25 CUP to the CUC$ and it makes it easier to charge tourists that little bit more for pretty much everything.

While it is very possible to get by with only the tourist money, we had heard that it wasn't a bad idea to carry a bit of the local currency around for buses and bits and pieces, so when I went to the currency exchange desk, I first converted the bulk of what I wanted changed into CUC$, and then handed in a €50 note and asked for that in CUP.  The lady looked at me with raised eyebrows and asked warily, "All of it?"  I nodded, somewhat nervously as I was worried that tourists weren't supposed to get the moneda nacional (technically I don't think they are) and had visions of her pressing a red button under her desk and of being taken away by security for questioning.  But she pulled an enormous stack of 20 CUP notes out of a drawer and counted them, all of them, before handing them over to me.

"Gosh, that's a lot!" I thought.

She then took an even bigger stack of 10 CUP notes out of the drawer and fed them through the counting machine and I realised that I'd be getting all of them as well.  I made a conscious effort to wind up my jaw which had dropped at this stage.  To finish she then counted out the change and it was as she was sliding this over to me that I heard Anne-Sophie at the next window asking for 50€ converted to CUP as well.  Luckily the lady serving her refused.  My girl must have been new.

I had to try and discreetly wedge this gigantic wad of notes into my pocket before waddling over to our taxi, where I sat quite uncomfortably for the journey to our Casa.  It was only after we had checked in and I offered to divide the CUP I had bought between us.  It was Anne-Sophie's jaw's turn to drop.  I can't remember exactly how much I received from the exchange, but €50 converts directly to 1,815.48 CUP, or in simpler terms 1 CUP = €0.03.  Which meant that we were going to have a difficult job getting through it, particularly as for the first day we were slow enough to spend it.  Eventually necessity made us bolder, and on day two we decided that instead of eating in a very obviously tourist place where we would be charged in CUC and usually around the €8-€10 mark, we would try a small place on a corner that seemed to have only Cuban customers.  We got a salad and a sort of scrambled egg sandwich for 7 CUP.  About €0.21!!!  Only another 1,812 to go.

It turned out to be a tremendous incentive to try new things during the trip that we probably wouldn't have even considered otherwise.  It seemed nearly every street had some small business operating out of a window, where you could buy sandwiches or pizzas for less than €0.50, and once I'd had my steroid injection after my allergies flared up I felt I could get away with a bit more food wise, so we made the best of it.  When we'd arrived for the train in Pinar del Rio we decided it would be a good idea to get some water, so on my search for that I came across a woman selling little shots of something from a flask at her front door, so I approached her and bought one for 1 CUP.  I did ask what it was first, which is a sign that I'm getting more cagey- but ever since somebody translated "shirako" sushi while my mouth was full of it I've been cautious.  The stuff in the flask turned out to be hot, sweet and strong coffee.  So good.  We also grabbed what we could from passing street vendors, sampling sweets, nuts and a kind of pop corn that were all very good, and rarely more than 1 CUP.

On our first day in Havana we had included La Coppelia an ice cream parlour in the middle of a park that our guidebook had recommended highly.  As we made our way towards the building that we assumed to be the place, a smiling man in a grey security uniform directed us under a big sign saying 'La Coppelia', and towards a covered seating area beside a stall run by a lone man in a yellow shirt.  We were relieved to find we seemed to have avoided the queues that the guidebook had warned of, but were surprised to find only two flavours of ice cream - vanilla and chocolate vanilla, with an option of a sugar syrup over it.  They cost about €3 each for a decent sized glass containing three or four scoops of ice cream which we felt was reasonable enough, although we weren't exactly blown away by it.  While Anne-Sophie went to find the loos I read the paragraph on La Coppelia again, and looked from the description of a large concrete and glass building to the small wooden hut that we had been served from and began to suspect that we'd been done.  Anne-Sophie confirmed my fears upon her return she had discovered the queues for the actual place described in the guidebook.

On our return to Havana on the morning of our flight home we left we made a point of going back and joining the queues to see what the fuss was about.  Our friend in the grey uniform once again met us and tried to direct us towards the small shack, but we politely declined.  He said it was for people paying in CUC$, but we smiled and said that we had CUP and he shrugged and let us go.  After about fifteen minutes in a queue made up of predominantly Cubans, we took two empty seats at the counter where we ordered our ice cream and paid €0.15 each for a plastic dish with five or six good scoops of ice cream (the same flavours as before) and given a bowl of sprinkles and a bottle of sugar syrup to help ourselves from before passing it to others along the counter.  We tried not to stare at the slim young lady sitting to my left who lined three of these plates in front of her and tore through them all.

The ice cream was exactly the same as the stuff we had got in the small stall, but we got so much more of it for a fraction of the price!  Furthermore we got to take part in what appeared to be a cultural activity judging from the volume of locals passing through the place constantly.  It seems that tourists are invited to skip the queue and pay
twenty times the price of the locals.  Fair deal, I guess.

In the end I got through most of my remaining CUP by paying a rickshaw driver to carry me round most of the old quarter of Havana on my last day in search of a chemist and a way of sending postcards.  I was left with about €10 worth of notes that they refused to change in the currency exchange desk in the airport, so in the end I used it to buy a small box of cigarillos as a gift.  I also kept a 3 peso note as memoir.

Cuba - Taking the Train and Hitching

Started writing this yesterday, but didn't make the deadline.  So I'm going to post it today, and it's pretty long, so I'll count it as two.  Who knows I might post two short ones another day!

On our second last day in the country we had decided that we'd take the train from Pinar del Rio back to Havana, purely for the experience and because Anne-Sophie likes trains.  We had been warned to that the trains were very unreliable and often didn't run, so we were prepared to be disappointed, so we weren't very surprised when, after waiting for twenty minutes or so in a fairly busy waiting area, someone came to announce that the train was running late.  We had been expecting to hear it had been cancelled, so this was good news.

The train eventually arrived and we walked all the way to the carriages near the front, only to discover that we had assigned seating and that these seats were three cars from the back.  This didn't matter to us as it gave us the opportunity to wander through the train and have a look around at the holes in the floor, missing windows and broken doors, many of which were left open so you could hang out of them while the train was moving.  We seemed to be the only non-Cubans on board, which was refreshing as we had felt up to then that we'd just been keeping to the tourist trail.  We arrived at our first-class (the only option we were given) seats to find that they were more or less identical in every way to the other seats on the train.  Oh, except one of them had been covered in a faux leather.  But apart from that they were the same.  We found ourselves sitting across from two ladies who we chatted to a little bit during the journey, and one of whom, unbidden, bought us a toasted sandwich from the vendor who made regular passes up and down the train with various goodies.  I was still benefiting from the cortisone injections earlier in the holiday and felt I could eat whatever came my way, so I could do the polite thing and accept.  I bought them a bun later but they refused it, so we had to have it.

The view from the rear carriage.

The train was not sound proofed in any way, the steel floor had holes in it here and there and so the noise of that filled the carriages as we made our way over the tracks was a roar that required us to shout to hear each other.  I spent some time looking out the door standing on the second step as we hurtled along, until somebody told me that the seemingly sturdy door I was using to steady myself wasn't locked in position and could open.  Eek.  Not my brightest moment.  What we noticed later was the dirt.  Anne-Sophie's white top that had been left on the seat became grey with the fumes and dust that were present in the carriage, and my beige trousers were worse again.

We disposed of our rubbish in one of the few bins to be found on the train, beside the toilet.  We couldn't bring ourselves to following everyone else's example and chucking cans and wrappers out the window.  Awfully messy.  

A few hours into the journey, having taken note of the various stops that the train had been making in tiny villages and farms, I decided that I was going to jump out at one of them once we got a bit closer to Havana.  We were due to arrive at 15:00 originally, but given the delay I figured that we would be about an hour late.  So I decided that I would disembark at 14:00 from whatever platform we happened to arrive at.  Anne-Sophie would stay on the train in order to meet the driver that was supposed to meet us at the station in Havana and drive us to the Casa Particular that our host in our last Casa had organised for us.

Dodgy Butcher

So at 13:55 I hopped out in a relatively large village (in comparison to others we'd stopped at) with dirt roads spreading in all directions.  I asked a vendor pushing a small wagon of soft drinks the direction to Havana and he gave me a description that I kind of got the gist of - one kilometre that way, junction, left, main road, five kilometres, highway.  So off I went, passing a butcher's, basically a house with various lumps of uncovered meat sitting outside in the shade, with a fan blowing over them, and bottles of some interesting looking liquid on the table beside it.

Cuban missile

Further along the road, still on foot, I passed what seemed to be an abandoned military facility, complete with abandoned missile.  I didn't want to stand around taking photos for too long, so I kept on moving.

If not THE truck I was in, something very similar...

I tried hitching for a few kilometres along the road, to no avail, until I eventually found a guy who was just finishing work and was also hitching in my direction just to get home.  He flagged down a passing truck - one of the old style American trucks, I don't know what you call them, but it was vintage - and we both got in.  Our driver was turning off in two kilometres, but it was a help.  We thanked him and jumped out and walked the rest of the way into the next town and to 'junction, left, main road'.  My new friend left me there at a bus stop telling me to wait for a taxi or a bus.  I tried to explain my intention to hitchhike, but he just shook his head, before heading on his way.

I tried hitching for a while, but in the end a taxi pulled in, and although I initially refused several of the people at the bus stop urged me to go for it, so I did, along with two others.  The system seemed to be that the taxi driver, accompanied by what appeared to be two of his friends in the front, would as far the person going the furthest, if that makes sense, and then pick other people up and drop them off along the way.  I originally asked to go to the bus station in the next town, as he was going there anyway, but when he learned that I was planning on going to Havana he said that would be no problem and that he could do it for about 1€, I decided to go with it.  I was accompanied by various passengers in the back seat during the 45 minute journey, including a girl in her late teens/early twenties, who I'm pretty sure was offering to have sex with me - so the simplified Spanish, sign-language and reactions from her friend and the guys in front would suggest.  I played the clueless non-Spanish speaker. When she got out the driver turned to ask if I would go with her, but I said no.  The guys all shrugged and we went on.

I arrived at the Casa at about 16:00.  No sign of Anne-Sophie, although at the rate the train was going I imagined that she was probably just arriving at the station. I confused the hell out of our host who had been expecting two of us, so I had to try explain in very poor Spanish and mime why I had left my girlfriend on a train, while I jumped off in the middle of nowhere and hitched my way back alone.  A very hard thing to do without sounding weird.  I don't think I managed it.

17:00 rolled on, with still no sign of Anne-Sophie.  We had made a long list of possible scenarios for meeting up again - as my phone didn't work, with meet up points at various parts of Havana at different times - at the hotel at 17:00, and if I'm not there, at the Malecon (the sea walk) at 18:00 for the sunset, and if not there somewhere else later again, even going so far as if I don't make it back by tomorrow morning, I'll meet you at the airport!  But these had all been for if I was late, so that Anne-Sophie wouldn't feel like she had to wait for me at the hotel for the evening.  We had, at no stage, considered the possibility that she'd be delayed.  But she was.

She finally showed up at 17:30 after an adventure of her own. The train had started going very slowly not long after I had jumped off, before stopping in the middle of nowhere.   An attendant came from carriage to carriage, announced something and people started getting off, so poor Anne-Sophie had to ask a policeman what the hell was happening.  He very kindly explained that the train had broken down and that people would have to get a bus to Havana.  He also cornered two rail staff who were heading the same way and told them that they were responsible for getting her back to Havana, and they did, bringing her with them to the bus stop by the airport and giving her money for the bus (about €0.10, but still).  While she was waiting for the bus, who did she see whizzing by in a taxi only yours truly!  What are the odds.  She spent a long time waiting, and then made her way to the station in order to meet the guy that was sent to wait for us, but he had obviously heard the train was out of action, because he wasn't there.  She went to a shop to ask for change for the payphone, but they couldn't exchange the tourist currency for the national currency (I'll explain more about that in another post), but the guy at the counter very nicely gave her the change she needed out of his own pocket (about €0.05, but still).  She called the Casa to explain that she was on her way, and about the train, but for some reason that message wasn't passed on to me.

We were finally reunited and went out to watch the sunset on the Malecon.