Welcome to Blogget, this is where I share snapshots of my adventures in travel, style, and food. Hope you have a nice stay!

Wet Wet Wet

Wet Wet Wet

Torrential rain and high winds.

The weather when you want to be wrapped up in a blanket, snuggled by a fire. Safely behind brick walls and under a strong roof.

It's not the weather you want when you're in a tent with only two layers of fabric between you and the outside world.

But that's what greeted us when we pitched up at the second campsite on our trip near Derrynane on the Ring of Kerry.

Although the view from the tent more than made up for the bad weather.

My issue with bad weather when I'm camping is that I quickly lose all confidence in the tent.

And however much I read the propaganda paragraph written by manufacturer reassuring me that this particular model can withstand all that nature throws at it, I still lie there calculating the multiple ways in which the tent could give way.

I've found the best remedy is to wrap yourself up tightly in your sleeping bag, like a precious vase in bubble wrap, and then set your body clock to panic mode so you wake up every 30 mins fearing the worst.

When morning came the tent was still in place, but though the wind had died down, the rain continued.

Rather than be deterred by some wet weather, we stuck to our original plan, pulled on our walking boots and headed out into the rain for some exploring.

Top tip. If you want a guaranteed way of looking like a tourist in the Irish countryside make sure you wear as much colour as possible.

Brightly patterned leggings that clash with your waterproof coat/poncho? Hell yes!

Despite the weather, I couldn't help be blown away by how beautiful our surroundings were.

Ragged green peaks running down into long white sandy beaches. The infamous bungalows, so ugly and inconsiderate up close, blending seamlessly into the landscape.

Thankfully by the time we got back to the tent the rain had stopped.

And then we made a shocking discovery. The whooshing sound we had taken to be a sign of high winds was actually the sound of the waves crashing into the rocks which we were pitched above....ooops! 

After supper, the blue skies had returned so we set up our camp chairs, grabbed a beer each, and sat looking out over the Atlantic Ocean as the sun went down. 

And as we snuggled into our sleeping bags that night, with the now soothing sound of the ocean, I think we were both secretly praying that the nice weather would last for the rest of the trip. 


All That Jazz

All That Jazz

Colourful Kinsale

Colourful Kinsale