The Marathon Snail

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Daffodils!

February 07, 2014

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Sarah O’Regan volunteers with a UK charity in Dunkirk supporting refugees “You must help them!” The man, drained with cold and exhaustion, gestured at a father holding a baby as he spoke urgently to me. “Why aren’t you helping them?” The clothes of the refugee carrying the baby were wet. The air temperature was close to zero. The inflatable dinghy used in the previous night’s attempt to cross the English Channel had developed a leak and everyone, including the baby, had fallen into the freezing, dark water. This morning, the adults were still in wet clothes – the only ones they owned. The baby, at least, looked dry and warm in its father’s arms. Another man told us that when he removed his trousers to dry them, the salty fabric ripped a layer of skin off. Later, we learned that two lifeless bodies had been found in the sea. It is February, and I am on a patch of scrubland near Dunkirk in northern France, volunteering with a refugee charity, Calais ...

Sister Act: Hiking the Himalayas in an All-Women Group in Nepal

As published 7 August 2024 on JourneyWoman , the world’s largest and most trusted resource for female solo travel Sarah O’Regan braves the elements and the Himalayan heights and finds tranquillity in the company of women who are breaking the traditional mould Danu and Kumari, women hiking the Himalayas The Himalayan wind pushes me to the side of the footpath once again, and I tack, zigzagging like a sailboat in a headwind. A half-heard sound makes me turn, and on the steep mountainside below I see my companions frantically waving. While they are clearly shouting, I can’t hear them over the howling in my ears. I sit on a stone and rest, rocked by the gale. When they catch up, I learn that Kumari and her heavy pack have been blown over, and tumbled down the mountain some distance. A few metres to our right the ground disappears into a deadly ravine, but luckily no serious damage is done. Later, my guide Danu tells me she has never experienced winds like this in fifteen years of trek...

Day 2: Samart School

Yours truly with some locals I slept well in the dorm: I had ear plugs, a mosquito net and a fan so I was quite comfortable. Hector the gecko, who lives under one of the beds, talked to himself all night repeating his own name, but he had settled down by morning. There is no running water here: showers are taken Khmer-style, with a bucket of water taken from a trough and thrown over the head. The water in the trough is used for personal hygiene, laundry, dishes and cooking, so it's important not to double-dip or put one's hands into it. Khmers usually shower clothed, and during my first morning I found myself doing the same just to cool down. This is the hottest month of the year; the rainy season starts just after the Khmer New Year in mid-April. It is said that it rains only three times before the New Year; there have already been two rainfalls so I am hoping it will rain when I am here to alleviate some of the heat. There has been some spectacular lightning and thunder...