By Laurie Hertzel
From Star Tribune
After dinner, we spread the map across the pub table. We had gotten a little lost that morning, probably due to jet lag, and we wanted to make sure the next day went smoothly.
It was May, before the pandemic, and my husband and I were walking most of the Dingle Way hiking trail in the far southwest of Ireland — about 100 miles over the course of a week.
Doug studied the map, looked through the guidebook and seemed satisfied. I sipped my Guinness and let him plan. I was the one who’d gotten us lost, and I was happy to let him lead. That meant that for the next six days, all I had to do was walk.
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