OPINION (AN COLÚN): Taking part in a walking festival is as good a weekend as any

I OFTEN walk in the hills on my own and thoroughly enjoy the experience. I am alone but don't feel lonely. The spirit of God is everywhere and I inwardly and quietly reach out to the vast presence of love and majesty all around me. My mind, my inner spirit, expanding outwards, I fall into the bosom of the Being that created everything. In the hills, in the beauty of nature, I come home. This mood is expressed perfectly in a book I adore, “Moby Dick.” It's a mood which can come upon me after a long, hard climb and I am seated on a clump of heather, drinking tea, admiring the view of the passes, the valleys and the peaks.
This daydreaming mood Melville calls “an opium-like listlessness of vacant, unconscious reverie” and he says it comes upon a young sailor in the novel as his senses absorb what is before him - “the blending cadence of waves with thoughts...the mystic ocean at his feet...” With this combination of the waves' sound and the mystic ocean spreading before him he “loses his identity”. He doesn't believe, but he knows, that the sea is the “visible image of that deep, blue, bottomless soul, pervading mankind and nature.” The creatures of the sea are also part of this vision - “every dimly-discovered, uprising fin of some undiscernible form, seems to him the embodiment of those thoughts.”
In this “enchanted mood” the spirit of the young sailor “ebbs away to whence it came; becomes diffused through time and space.” In this romantic, pantheistic moment, the young observer has mingled with the universal peace present in Creation: “There is no life in thee now except that rocking life imparted by a gentle rolling ship; borrowed from the sea; by the sea, from the inscrutable tides of God.”
I first read this passage when I was sailing on Asgard II many years ago. I was 20 years of age and I joined the ship's crew for a two week cruise to Cornwall and northern France during which we carried out the daily running of the vessel. One of the daily running duties was being lookout and when I was lookout I experienced many Melville moments when my thinking mind perplexed by problems subsided and was replaced with a state of bliss and peacefulness.
Sadly Asgard II is no longer with us. She sank in the Bay of Biscay on September 11, 2008. It's still not exactly clear why she sank, but she might have collided with a submerged object. There was a possibility of salvaging the ship but unfortunately the government did not act.
While walking for hours on my own in the mountains is something I greatly enjoy, there are times when I seek the companionship of others. Joining groups in any endeavour can backfire, which has happened to me on plenty of occasions. It is a strange irony of existence that one can feel deeply lonely and outcast when in the company of others, and not so when in a state of solitude; simply because you are in the company of difficult and unsympathetic people. But I usually find hillwalking groups pleasant company. I sense decency and likemindedness. Therefore I enjoy walking with clubs and walking during festivals. There are many walking festivals in Ireland and they are a great way to pass a weekend. After two days in good company tramping the mountains you'll come home feeling recharged.
There are several excellent walking festivals on the horizon and I have participated in quite a few of them over the years. The North Leitrim Glens Hill Festival is taking place on April 4 to 5, offering guided walks through the dramatic glens and hills of North Leitrim.
The May Bank Holiday Weekend is a busy time with festivals in Kerry, the Slieve Blooms and Connemara. The Kerry event follows the Dingle Way from Tralee to Dingle; in the Slieve Blooms the woodlands are beautiful with bluebells; and in Connemara there's a choice of strenuous to low level hikes in a dramatic, very scenic region.
On May 31 to June 3 the action is in the Knockmealdowns and on June 20 to 21 it shifts to the Cooley peninsula (the Táin International Hillwalking Festival). I attended the Táin festival a few years ago and had a very enjoyable time. On the Saturday I joined the A walk with 40 others for a 13 mile walk with a climb of 4,000 feet; an arduous outing. There wasn't a B&B to be had in the whole of the peninsula and we had to stay in a B&B in Dundalk. Before that though we had a few oysters in Carlingford town, washed down with a pint of guinness; and had a look at the medieval King John's Castle which dominates the harbour; the castle is said to be haunted.
The Cooley Peninsula is of course strongly associated with the Táin Bó Cuailnge (The Cattle Raid of Cooley). Dominated by war the Táin is similar to The Iliad. This Celtic text was passed down by oral tradition until eventually written down in the 12th Century in the Book of the Dun Cow. The story's plot is set around 500BC.
One of the most poignant moments in the Táin is the duel between Cuchulain and his best friend Ferdia, which as you read it makes you think of the value, importance and beauty of friendship.
As well as being bloody, the Táin is also often earthy. For example, we are told that Cuchulain had many lovers and his wife Emer did not mind this. She only became jealous when he fell in love with a fairy called Fand, wife of Manannan mac Lir. It is love at first sight between Cuchulain and Fand but eventually they agree not to meet again; and they return to their spouses. Before doing so they drink a potion to erase the romantic liaison from their memories.

READ NEXT: OPINION (AN COLÚN): The myths of St Patrick & the animal kingdom