Seeing through the mist in the Boggeraghs

Mount Hillary (Mullach Allaire), at 391 metres, is a peak in the Boggeragh range, 12 km west of Mallow. As we drove nearby we agreed that “The Wild Goose Restaurant” in Dromahane is sorely missed. It was the perfect mustering station. Its location, menu and friendly service enhanced many an outing.The attached parking facilities also allowed for car-pooling that prevented crowding on narrow roads and “pull-in” places. Congratulations however are due to
Cork County Council for their newish carpark at the foot of Mount Hillary which provided the exact number of spaces required for our walkers.
Willie Fitzgerald, a most able leader, set out to conquer Mount Hillary once more for the RTAI. Walking on forestry roads, even if rough, are usually wide enough for 2 or 3 to walk abreast. The space between walkers, before the sweeper’s broom, allows a silent interlude for anybody who might desire some. On the day, any rising dust was dampened by continuous rain but it fell gently and nobody was drenched. The mildness of the day was notable while the sought for visibility required patience and lots of imagination.
Would the person who was delegated to bring the linen tablecloths for the picnic please blush….. also the person who hid the picnic tables! Only the deep pile of moss green carpet gave our picnic space a modicum of luxury and comfort.
With little incentive to linger at the summit and aware of a threat that the best of grub at Blarney Woollen Mills might be scoffed if we delayed our return, we did not tarry. As we “mystery-toured” across country for Blarney, just outside Bweeng off to our right – – – the extreme right…. We could just about make out “Mar-a-Lago”. The unmistakable sound of popping Champagne corks could be clearly heard, no doubt in celebration of our climbing feat!!! The Main Man there was told we had climbed Mullach Allaire – apparently he had trouble with a Hillary in the past!!! In his suggested act of honour to him, we did not warm to the idea of Trump Carrauntoohil or even Corrán Tuathail Thrump. Somehow it smacked of naked misogynistic “one-up-Manship”!
Once we got to Blarney the fullish car parks were a surprise and the danger of empty plates worried us a little more. We need not have fretted. The varied full menu had more than enough of what we desired and no complaints were heard. A long leisurely chat at table followed, the end of yet another happy day “faoin aer”.