The hottest weekend of the century

The hottest weekend of the century, we decided to escape Dublin for a mini adventure in Sligo.

Except… I couldn’t find a single campsite available. So, with one finger on Google Maps and zero expectations, I said: “Let’s go to Derry!”

We packed the gear, packed the kids, and off we went.

Now—whenever we go camping, we always bring a duvet. Gotta stay cosy on those chilly Irish nights.

But this time we said:“Ehh, it’s roasting. We won’t need it. Nights are warm.”

Bad move.

We met a friend, had a magical evening sea swim, watched a gorgeous sunset, and came back to the tent. Eduardo cooked up a dreamy BBQ, we gazed at the stars… and then the cold rolled in.

Like really cold. I even forgot my hoodie or my wolen poncho.

So now we’re lying in a tent, wrapped in a very questionable single person blanket, shivering, and thinking about the monks in the Himalayas... and also about me and my crew climbing a snowy Polish mountain in just shorts and sports bras.

And then I remembered: I have a superpower. It’s called my breath.

So I closed my eyes and started breathing—big, full inhales... long, steady exhales… directing the warmth to my blanket, to my body, to my bones.

Within minutes I wasn’t cold anymore.(Okay… hugging Eduardo helped, too)

Your breath is your inner fire 

All the love

Marta