Things get worse

The next day:

I decided that even though I wouldn’t have any of the right gear I would go hiking with some of my friends. I thought that it would be worth it to suffer through 6 hours in Vans in order to get to the top of a mountain and hopefully see some cool shit. Not to mention I had nothing to do during the day and I couldn’t get back into my house until 6pm or rather 18:00pm.

We set out and things actually went pretty well. I developed no blisters, we did indeed see some cool shit and it was pretty fun just hiking around. We quickly passed the tree line and got to ridge walk for the next several hours. The vistas were breathtaking. We finally made it to the top after quite an effort. We rested and ate lunch by an old monastery and were surprised by the number of under-10-year-olds were running around. Their laughter and energy certainly took the wind out of our sails.

The hike back down was pretty leisurely and uneventful until one of my group members commented on how pink I was growing. Now I didn’t think I was embarrassed so naturally I ignored her comment; that is until the rest of the group chimed in. Then I started to feel that familiar tingling sensation.

I had not been able to apply that generous layer of sunscreen my Irish skin requires. Why you ask? Because: I was locked out.

By the time we reached the bottom of the trail I was a tomato. The walk home was quite uncomfortable to say the least. Of course I had not thought of packing any Alo Vera and Sunday is a day of rest for the French so not a single drugstore or supermarket was open- I had no hope of purchasing reprieve.

I ended up getting some “skin cream” from my host mother later that night which I put on right before dinner. The white paste went on like cream cheese and complemented the deep tomato quite nicely. To add insult to injury I was the subject of a cascade of jokes during dinner and the young French girl, Adaline, could not stop laughing every time she glanced over at me.

I now look slightly less like a tomato, but no matter how much water I drink or how many cold showers I take, my skin feels like it is sitting in the Kalahari.

I need a drink.