I don’t see how we’re making it to dinner,I said to my husband, Taylor,as we picked our way up a craggy hill, our backs to the North Atlantic.We were 13 miles intoa 43-mile, three-day trek across the Dingle Peninsula,Ireland’s westernmost promontory.We had set out that morning from the music-filled port town of Dingle,hiking toward Dunquin, a tiny settlementfacing the Blasket Islands archipelago.Just before lunch, we’d wandered off the path to explore the ruinsof a 7th-century monastery and had gotten slightly lost finding our way back.
Now we were
