From time to time I take the painful decision to temporarily put some distance between The Great Institution of Chatham Street and My Good Self.

My feet get itchy.

Ireland is a beautiful country. It just requires a little time and effort to explore it.

Up to a few years ago I had spent more time wandering around other parts of the solar system than I did my own country. India and Nepal stood out.

So what about Ireland? To my rescue came John Creedon, the great Corkman, and one of our nation’s finest broadcasters.

At home one Sunday morning, ticking off another one of the required 10,000 hours of practice I need in order to master my classical guitar, I heard the bould Mr. Creedon waxing lyrical on the radio about an upcoming television programme he would be presenting about his travels around The Home Country. He spoke of places unknown to me. Time for a little exploring.

I decided on a walking trip. The good old shanks’ mare.

Route sorted, b&b’s booked, clarinet packed and I was on my way.

The plan was a ten day stroll around the southwest coast, beginning in Bantry, west Cork, finishing off in Killarney, mid Kerry.

I met many wonderful people as I ambled along my way. Queen amongst them was The Great Imelda. Having taken the wrong road out of beautiful Glengarriff in west Cork, Imelda, my b&b landlady, duly zoomed to my rescue, whisked me off the road to Kenmare and promptly deposited me on the path to my intended destination, Adrigole, en route to Castletownbere. What a woman!

Less impressive was the pub musician in the lovely town of Waterville on the amazing Ring of Kerry. Charlie Chaplin loved Waterville.There is a statue in the town honouring him. Maybe the musician got temporarily confused between music and attempted comedy. On entering the pub in question with my white cane and clarinet in hand, the resident musician/comedian remarked ‘should have gone to Specsavers’. Interesting.

And then there was the American lady who had a very unique way of interpreting my white cane.

It was early in my trip. It was a beautiful morning and I was full of the joys of life as I departed Imelda’s Island View b&b in gorgeous Glengarriff.

Maybe it was my tunnel vision, maybe it was reflecting on the lovely previous evening playing a bit of clarinet in a local pub, maybe it was just the great weather. Whatever the reason, I missed the t-junction turn off for Adrigole and Castletownbere, and carried blissfully on towards Kenmare. The wrong road.

An hour or so up that road, donning my hi-vis waistcoat and white cane in hand, a car approached towards me, slowed and then stopped.

An American sounding lady in the passenger seat proceeded to ask me the following question; ‘are they your sheep up ahead?’.

It took me a few seconds to digest what she was actually saying to me. Then the penny dropped. She assumed my white cane was some sort of shepherd’s crook.

I replied no, but that I might have one of them for dinner later on. Her facial expression seemed to change a little and the car then moved on.

She must have been a Trump supporter.