The [Irish Coastal] Adventure

The past two weeks of our journey started with our departure from Rosscarbery, headed north.  Our intent was to see the west coast of Ireland and her people, and that’s what we’ve done. 

A lesson for anyone making a similar journey in the future: You cannot make a wrong turn in Ireland.  If you mean to see the natural beauty of this place (much of which is beautiful because of man’s natural and subtle yet dramatic mark on the open land here), then look at your map infrequently.  Some of the most gorgeous land we have seen was around a turn we meant to avoid or after detouring from the detour we had to take due to “road works.”  Being lost on the small roads of Ireland is more like being lost in a fine Monet than being lost on an interstate highway. 

So, regarding the driving sequence we;re going to describe, know that some of these places we meant to see and others were very happy navigational errors.  

The west coast of Ireland is a series of peninsulas separated by large bays and deep rivers.  Countless years of wear from the violence of the North Atlantic has turned each of these massive peninsulas into rugged landscapes of mountains and valleys completely unique from one-another. We passed through the Beara Peninsula via Healy Pass.  

From Beara Peninsula to the south. 

Turning away from the coast towards the mountain pass was an immediate turn away from sun-drenched greens and blues to a land of golden tufts of turf and grey stoned walls shadowed by passing grey clouds.  Our road switched back up and down a few low hills and then climbed towards the stony pass.  Stone walls seemed to fence in parts of the land, but the sheep they were meant to hold were accustomed enough to their terrain to know how to find their way to the grass next to our gravel road.  Irish sheep rarely look once, let alone twice, at a passing car.  It is the driver’s responsibility (as determined by the sheep’s complete disregard to move) to make way for all livestock.  Posted speed limits are inconsistent here.  The chief determining factors of safe speed are presence of livestock on the road, then road width and the number of turns ahead.    

En Route, Healy Pass

From a spot near the top of Healy Pass, back into the valley

At the peak of the pass, Kenmare River to the north came into view from the arms of a steep valley blanketed in small farms.  As we descended, the rain that had turned to sleet turned back into rain until suddenly the sun broke from behind the clouds.  We were again in fields of green, flanked by a grey-blue sea, driving in the sun.

Looking north from the north side of Healy Pass 

The rest of this driving day was spent on Iveragh Peninsula in County Kerry.  We followed the coast from south to north along the celebrated “Ring of Kerry” until we reached the small town of Glenbeigh (pronounced Glenbay).  For two nights we stayed in Liosderrig House, a family run Bed and Breakfast.  Another tip for travelers: if you are traveling in an “off season,” do not make reservations ahead of time.  We found the hospitality to be truly second to none.  By simply stopping once we found a town we liked and looking for a B&B, which was never hard to find, we managed to stay at two of the loveliest houses with some very nice families.  These stops, in Glenbeigh and then in Doolin, County Clare, were memorable because of the people.  With no clue of what to see or do, we were immediately armed with a local knowledge of the sites and pubs.  This was very important in Glenbeigh.  Maureen, the woman running Liosderrig House, informed us that for dinner there were two places to eat, both pubs of similar feeling.  

Irish cattle, suspect of anyone not bearing food

We chose to patronize The Towers Inn—a 2-minute walk from our B&B.  When you think of a pub, this is the place you should be thinking of.  Good food, plenty of regulars, a roaring peat fire, short stools and benches for eating and drinking, and plenty of friendly folks of good will.

A few points about pubs in Ireland: Guinness never appears on a drink menu and is always offered.  If you are in Cork or Kerry, the same is true of Murphy’s.  If a pub doesn’t have a fireplace with a fire burning, there is something wrong—the manager/owner is very foreign or the person who delivers the peat or coal is sick or dying.  Finally, if the person tending the bar accepts a tip, then either you have offended the establishment somehow or the tender is a scoundrel—tips to bartenders are like insults, apparently. 

The Towers Inn shall forever hold a special place in our hearts

The Towers' peat fire--extra large fireplace for a very large common room

Ross Castle outside of Kilarney in County Kerry

Kate and the castle--it's strange when seeing castles becomes commonplace

Kerry Mountains--The Macgillycuddy's Reeks from Lough Leane

Boats for hire

After a few nights in Glenbeigh, and a few days exploring the surrounding areas, we continued north towards the Burren in County Clare.  On our way we circled through the Dingle Peninsula.  This was quite possibly the best drive of the trip… Driving from south to north, this drive just keeps getting better and better.  It is reminiscent of Big Sur, but with a distinctly Irish ruggedness.  We stopped every hundred yards or so to take another picture because the view just kept getting better.  

The lively valleys of Dingle Peninsula

Slea Head--Western point of Dingle Peninsula

West Dingle, near Coumeenole, looking South

West Dingle, near Coumeenole, looking north

A typical scene in the scenic spots of western Ireland!

Blasket Islands, west of Dingle

Typical coastal road

Finally, at the very northwest part of the peninsula, it’s just absolutely breathtaking.  The weather was so dramatic at the time we were there—windy, windy, windy, which was blowing huge white clouds so quickly that you could barely take a picture of one before it was out of the frame.  The sun was shining brightly behind them so that their massive shadows traveled swiftly across the green hills.  This was the location of the strongest wind we have ever felt.  You could lean forward into and not fall over.  It was unreal.

Wow

Here, the winds would gust at 60 knots

Wow!!

Car ferry from Tarbert, across the Mouth of Shannon, to Killimer, County Clare

We made it to the city of Doolin that evening, which is the home of some national traditional Irish music festivals.  This was wonderful because we were able to spend our evenings in Gus O’Conner’s pub listening to a flute, accordion, and the bones (instrument consisting of two bones held between sets of fingers used in a way similar to spoons).   

Irish nectar

Gus O'Conner's--three men, flute, accordion, and bones

From Doolin we took a ferry to the Aran Islands, which among other virtues, host annual dry stone wall building contests…    

To the Aran Isles

Irish dogs are as friendly as their owners.  This one gave us a tour of Inis Oirr (pronounced Inishere)

Cattle pins on Inis Oirr backed by some ruins

Inis Oirr village

Sustainable farming?
(this is a good picture for a caption competition)

Wow again!

Us!!

Modern Oirr construction

En route to the Cliffs of Insanity

The North Atlantic is cold

We also toured the Cliffs of Moher, seaside.  At their peak, they stand 800 feet above of the Atlantic, forming a vertical wall that stretches about five miles.  Featured as the infamous Cliffs of Insanity in the film The Princess Bride, these monumental walls cannot be properly grasped by the mind’s eye.  Many of us have been atop some structure so high that the people below appear as ants.  In our situation, the folks walking the cliff paths above seemed like specks atop the massive stone faces.

Approaches to the Cliffs of Moher

O'Brien's Tower near the peak of the cliffs

Insane!

Atlantic Puffins and Guillemots populating the clefts of the cliffs

Our final full week in Ireland was spent on the Renvyle Peninsula on the west coast of the Connemara region in County Galway.  We continued our drive north through the Burren region and into beautiful Connemara.

Coastal road through The Burren

Rocky Burren

Connemara--this is what a bog looks like... 

Typical beauty

WOW!

Roundstone--village in West Connemara.  Thatched roofs are common. 

 The beginning of this week afforded us the best example of Irish hospitality that we experienced.  Our plan was to do what had already proven to work—ask someone in a pub where we should stay.  So, we pulled into Letterfrack, stopped at the pub, The Bard’s Den, walked in and asked the bar tender if there was a house for rent nearby that had weekly rates.  After some discussion, a few phone calls made by the bar tender’s friend who was sitting at the bar, and a napkin-note from a worker on a lunch break with a phone number for Anne (which we couldn’t use since we don’t have phones), the owner of the pub appeared from a back room to sell us on his rental house… 

Charging a bit more than we wished to pay, he said that for 10 minutes of our time we could see the place and it would either be a nice drive or a great find.  It was both.  From this house we watched a week’s worth of the most beautiful and unique sunsets imaginable.  

If we were to show you the blues and greens we saw from our windows you would think we were using them to ink in the Sunday funnies.  The ruin-ridden island just to our north was an impressionist’s dream—it never once looked as it had before.  Mountains stood in the middle and background of our view sometimes as shades and at moments as objects of such sharp definition that they were surprising all the while they were perceived.  There was little we could do that rivaled enjoying the natural scenery from our dinning room and living room. 

Our dinning room in Renvyle

Our sunset in Renvyle

...

Our ruin in Renvyle

Achill Island, 25 miles north from Renvyle

Everything looked different all the time.  The light changed constantly
and the clouds pushed past at an incredible rate. 

Renvyle House Hotel, from our living room

It was from this house that we went on our wild peat chase.  Peat, being a fuel unique to cool, wet climates such as Ireland, is burned in nearly every country home here.  Still, in its pure, natural form, it is not found in any stores.  You can easily find a peat composite at the store, but we were looking for the real deal, and it was obvious that people must get it from somewhere since it was the only thing that the pubs were burning.  

Our peat fire 

Peat, having just been turned up for drying

But no one sells peat by the side of the road or in the markets.  We asked some nice ladies at a wool outlet store where we could find a bag of peat to burn and their first response was to smile and ask jokingly, “Well, how fast can you drive?” suggesting that we pull up to a peat bog and load some dried peat into the trunk.  They went on to suggest that we find a bog being “turned up” and ask the folks doing the work if we could buy a bit.  Other inquiries into buying peat rendered answers such as, “Yer best bet is to just knock on someone’s door and ask them to if you can buy some,” and, “I think the guy at the fruit stand a few miles south was selling bags of peat a few days ago.  Are you headed that way?” Peat is smokeless once lit, it doesn’t flame or spark, and it smells great.  It is the perfect fuel for the open fireplaces in the homes of this country.  We landed our bag of peat by Irish luck, which in this case means Irish friendliness.  Another Maureen, one of the women from the wool outlet, mentioned in passing that “If I think of you tonight, I’ll bring you a bag of salts.”  Translated, this means that she knew where were staying because we told them whose house we were renting and that the salts, or bricks of peat, she had were in abundance since the weather was starting to warm.  To our surprise and enjoyment, she stopped by at about 6:30 with not more than a wave and a swift decline of our offer to pay for the peat.  This is why the world loves the Irish and the main reason that we have had such an incredibly lovely time in this beautiful country.

Thank you, Maureen!

When we weren't hunting for peat (though we always had our eyes peeled as we drove along...), we explored the Connemara region, which is incredibly beautiful.  

 On our drive to Westport

Through Ireland's only Fjord, flanked by sheep coated mountains

Bog Road in Connemara National Park

Kylemore Abbey--active Benedictine abbey

Golf course behind our Renvyle house

Wow.

We were sad to leave the little haven on the Renvyle Peninsula, but we drove to Dublin to spend our last few days before concluding this amazing European adventure.  So far we've enjoyed our time in the city, exploring the streets, seeing the Book of Kells and spending most of our time in the pubs listening to live Irish music and drinking as many Guinnesses (or Guinni??) as we can before we leave.

For all the words we have typed, there just aren’t any to describe what a special time this has been for us. 

We will return.