Monday, 31 October 2016
Great hunt yesterday
(perfect, since nobody caught anything, yay) but I think it’s safe to say it
was the hardest terrain yet. We had only three dogs, so the four of us who were
in the chase had to climb over tremendous patches of blackberry growth, often
causing us to get stuck and require use of machetes. Well, I don’t carry a machete
and if you need me to stress further how densely knit the thorny vines were:
even my dog refused to go first. At some point I lost balance and fell off a
rotten stump of a tree, my thick woolly sweater catching the thorns, gripping
me so hard I began to worry. Surely the wild boars whom we were chasing must
have thought: Guys, just ignore her, she’s zero threat to us…, but if I did by
a small chance walk into a pack of boars and that was how they would find me, I
would have been killed in a minute and very brutally. The General even found an
empty boar nest. But, apart from the threat of imminent slaughter from the
things we were hunting and irony (and any time I go along we catch nothing,
which I why I go along), the terrain was magnificent, the forest was beautiful
and the slopes were so steep we spent most of the time either sliding down very
fast or climbing up on all fours. I was so tired by the end I dragged my
walking stick and my feet and just kept walking down a path until I got lost. After
we got to the cars the General hitched a ride with a colleague to get our own
and I stuck around near an old monastery ruin, charring with a young gay cook
who worked in the oldest known pub in the country, attached to the monastery. Tired
like dogs, Starbark and I sat down in the sun, on a small wooden bridge, and
basked, almost napping. I didn’t bring enough water, so my head hurt a little
bit, though nothing like what my hands were like – hundred little cuts, like I’ve
been whipped by Lilliputians. A day later I’ve taken out most of the thorn, but
they’ve began scabbing, which ITCHEEEES like crazy. Another 1:0 for the forest
Vs. stupid hunters :D
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