Friday, November 2 – From Kinsale to Kenmare

Before I get started, a quick note. I forgot to mention yesterday that Kinsale (and Ireland in general, it appears) has, like almost all incredible places, not escaped the eyes of the wealthy. Many of the homes there are obviously very new and very expensive. In fact, I’ve seen more contemporary architecture here than anywhere else on my trip. Pretty cool contrast to the obvious age of the land itself.

I ended yesterday with an open question about the dinner to come. Let’s just say that dinner wasn’t stellar and leave it at that. I returned back to the Walyunga house where I met Myrtle and John’s daughter, Daphne. She was quite beautiful and very, very Irish looking. She is a schoolteacher in Dublin and came home for midterm break. I slept very well, though I actually used my sleeping bag and pad because the bed’s springs were quite uncomfortable.

Breakfast was excellent and far too large. I ate while watching two young French families try to maintain order at the table. As it turns out, these are the same French children that were running around Charles Fort the previous day. After paying a very reasonable 50 Euros for the room and breakfast, I was off. I stopped in town to use the free internet again and took the R600 west to the “Old Head” of Kinsale. Now a golf course closed to the public, the old head used to be the lighthouse location (I think) for Kinsale. Anyway, like everything else in Ireland, it was insanely beautiful. Breathtaking cliffs, panoramic vistas, you get the picture. Gary, you would kill to play that course. It made me want to pick up a club.

The R600 met up with the larger N71, which took me north and west through many small towns. I grew more and more comfortable with the car and the left hand driving. One note of interest, however, is that the speed limits in Ireland really do appear to be limits. There were very few times today when I actually drove the speed limit, and my little Panda is pretty nimble. You would have to be crazy to drive 100 kph on these curvy, country roads. Even Stuart wouldn’t be able to speed most of the time. Of course the drive was crazy beautiful. At points the road almost touched the ocean. Once I left County Cork for County Kenmare, the terrain became more mountainous. I stopped in Glengariff for lunch. It was a tiny, one-street town that seemed all but dead. I ate at the bar in a hotel there. It was certainly a quiet lunch, but it was a fine one. I had the roast of the day, which happened to be beef. I also took a scone for the road because they looked so damn good. Interestingly, the bar had the nicest bathroom I’ve seen yet on this trip, and probably one of the nicest ones I’ve ever seen in my life, including those in homes.

After leaving Glengariff, the road climbed to an incredible pass. Now you have to mix the old, windswept, rolling-hill beauty with that of incredible peaks. Oh, and don’t forget that the ocean is still in the picture. At the top of the pass, I ran into sheep…lots of them. They just stand on the sides of the road eating away as cars zoom right by them. My arrival in Kenmare was uneventful. The bed and breakfast was clearly marked before I even got to the town. The welcoming committee at the B&B was a mottled dog. The hostess showed me in and to my room, but neglected to introduce herself or be very friendly. Still, the place is super nice and obviously very new. Once settled, I made the 20 minute walk into town. I was unable to find the tourist information center, which was marked in two different places on different maps. I was able to locate the old stone ring in town, the largest one of almost 200 in western Ireland. I headed back to the B&B to grab the car and a headlamp.

With daylight fading I drove north on the N71 towards Killarney National Park. Unfortunately, the cloudy day and fading light made any sicknasty pictures impossible. Still, the views were inspiring, with super steep peaks exploding out of picturesque lakes. I found a well-marked hiking trail and set off. The hike was wonderful but made me yearn for a mountain bike. It would have been perfect…fast rollers, rock gardens, even a super old waterbar. At right about total darkness the lake below came into view. I took it all in for a few minutes, put on my headlamp, and set off back to the car. As the evening fog began to set in, I took deep breaths through my nostrils. Ireland smells alive like a deciduous forest in Williamstown, but it also smells old, very old. Being by myself in a foreign land and hiking at night made me a little nervous. I thought about what I would do if some wolves showed up…or what about that ghost dog or whatever it is. Sure enough, about 10 minutes away from the car, my headlamp lights up a pair of eyes in the forest. The eyes turned and the rustles headed farther up ahead on the trail. I walked quietly trying to catch a glimpse of anything. I picked up a big rock and threw it into the forest and heard more rustling. Then two pairs of eyes appeared. Great, I’m being hunted. I reached up and pressed the boost on my headlamp and…deer. It was a deer. Great. I headed back to the car and drove back to the B&B.

Man…it was a long day, and I am absolutely beat. I went into town and ate at a cool little Italian joint for dinner. Traveling alone has certainly allowed me to feel more connected to the land. I’ve tried to give myself very little down time. The only bad part about being alone is eating. It can be a very lonely experience. Still, this blog makes me feel strangely connected to those at home, and I miss all of you.