After a bad night (-2 degrees and slept in the car as too jetlaggy to reach my planned destination), and a bad morning (reached destination, looked depressing, bloody freezing), I booked into a hostel (mmm, warm, dry, showers, electricity, internet - dear heaven, could life hold more richness than this?!). Wrestled with myself over this decision - what is the good of all the camping gear I've packed if I'm not using it? - but am no hero if I push on and get pneumonia instead of doing the intelligent thing and changing tack when circumstances demand ... and near-constant rain and temperatures from -2 to maximums of 6 do not lend themselves to camping. Bugger.
Took myself off for a nice sulk in privacy over my own idiocy, and once had read a few chapters of a trashy book was ready to move on wholeheartedly with plan B (driving/hotelling rather than driving/camping). The HOURS I spent under the hot shower at the hostel (and never was so much soap used by one person) went a long way to reconciling me to this new plan. I can do without many things but ye gods, hot showers are not one of them.
Tomorrow: Killarney National Park ...