Day 127: Kinsale - 🛬ORK - Forthill

We slept like logs until, suddenly, whoooooosh! A siren woke us up with a jolt. I jumped so high that I almost got tangled in my blanket. It turned out it was coming from the fire station we had right behind us. There was no fire or heroes rushing to the rescue, but it left my heart pounding like crazy.

After the morning scare, it was time for a mission: the laundry. Yes, I know, it doesn't sound very epic, but believe me, having my blankets clean is almost as important as finding a hidden bone. In the parking lot of the SuperValu supermarket, about two hundred meters away, there was a self-service laundry. Daddy Edu put in the clothes and I thought, "Well, now it's time to wait." But no, we took the opportunity to take a walk around town.

The bay was empty, as if the sea had gone on vacation. The boats rested on the mud, tilted and with a face of "wondering when the water will return". I thought they were playing marine statues.

We ate in the camper and then set off to find new places to spend the night. First we tried Ballymartle Woods, just ten minutes in the direction of Cork. What a cool place: a lush forest with a circular route of about two kilometers. I ran smelling every trunk, every leaf, every secret track that another dog might have left before me.

Then we went to another place, a parking lot next to a cemetery that seemed abandoned. It had its ghostly charm, but it was quite sloped. I imagined myself trying to sleep there and slowly sliding until I bumped into Daddy Edu. Better not.

So we returned to Forthill, near Kinsale. And there, yes, what a marvel. The parking lot is right next to Charles Fort, a 17th-century fortress that looks like it came out of a pirate tale. It is built in the shape of a star, with walls that look out to the sea as if they were fangs ready to bite anyone who dared to invade. From the outside it commands respect, but what interested me was the grass that surrounds the place: perfect for rolling around and leaving my canine mark.

We spent some time in the camper, quietly, until the most anticipated moment arrived: Daddy Edu set off around seven in the afternoon towards the airport. In twenty or twenty-five minutes we were there. And then... Uncle Joan appeared! I jumped like a spring, wagged my tail like a propeller, and even my right ear bent with emotion. We are three again.

We went back together to the Forthill parking lot, had dinner in the camper, and prepared for bed. The wind blows strongly, but it is an acceptable wind, the kind that soothes more than it bothers. I close my eyes thinking: tomorrow there will be new adventures, but today the important thing is that the pack is complete again.