Ring of Kerry (Friday)

Yesterday we drove back to Killarney for the famous Ring of Kerry Tour. After having driven 3-5 hours every day to sightsee since we got here, it was nice to relax and let the bus driver handle it all and enjoy the views instead of having to watch for signs or oncoming traffic that might knock us off a narrow country road into the bushes (or worse, a stone wall). I think Diana might have been especially relieved since I have recently become comfortable passing slow cars like a true native. I was impressed by the way she remained silent even while her life was flashing before her eyes. We arrived a bit early and were able to pick up some tasty brown scones (brown bread is a traditional item here) before boarding the bus. While it was slightly overcast, our good weather from the previous day seemed to be continuing as we headed out, and on our way to Glenbeigh, we were treated to some scenery like this:




Our first stop, other than a few short ones for photos, was at the Bog Village in Glenbeigh, which Jeremiah Mulvihill started so he could cut the famous Irish peat to export to other areas. This was a real "village" (of four dwellings) restored from the 1800s, set up and furnished the way they would have looked originally. To add a little authenticity, they had two Irish Wolfhounds out in front to greet us (from behind a fence, I should add). That breed of dog dates back to ancient times and features in a number of Irish legends. There is also a famous festival that happens in the town nearby called the "Puck Festival," in which the King Puck--a goat captured from the mountain--is crowned and reigns over the festivities before being released back into the wild. The goat statue Diana and I are posing with commemorates that. After saying hello to the animals, both real and carved, Diana and I explored the four cottages. They were cozy and sweet in some ways, but the thought of actually living in one of them in reality day after day was a bit daunting. We are unbelievably spoiled with our current lifestyles, at least in terms of material comfort. Seems like they were able to enjoy themselves despite their spare and cramped conditions, though. Apprently they would spend their leisure time playing horseshoes and holding Cap Derbies, where the men would wager on whether or not they could hang their caps on a particular tree branch by tossing them. Who needs cable anyway?

Next to the village was a pub serving Irish Coffee to all the tourists and making a killing. I was happy to participate in this exploitation, however, as that Irish coffee was delicious. Whiskey, brown sugar, coffee, and whipped cream--it doesn't get much better than that. We all filed back onto the bus and began the climb further up the mountains (large hills, really) along the coast, stopping at one point for what looked like a grandfather and his two grandkids posing with their donkeys (which randomly had little dogs just chillin' on their backs) and goats for us gullible tourists to take photos of and tip. There was, of course, also some gorgeous scenery. The good views lasted when we first made it to the coast, and you'll see why this particular drive is so famous. As we drove higher up, however, we were soon enveloped by a thick white mist that obscured pretty much everything (remember Alaska, Peter? Same thing as our "Scenic" railway tour). Our bus deposited us at a food stop/shop at the top, where we were funneled along a path past a cafeteria-style counter like cattle with about twenty seconds to decide what to eat. Diana and I both got the seafood chowder, which was authentic and fresh enough to have the grit of sand in it now and then, but quite delicious. As we ate our SO OVERPRICED food (soup, some bread, and an iced tea cost me 13 euro, which is close to $20), we tried to imagine the view beyond the mist as the sign outside the stop boasted the best views in Ireland. Sign is below, as is our actual view through the bus window pointed out by Diana.

The mist lasted for most of the rest of our journey, but as we got a little lower, were were able to make out a few things, like the ruins of a small cluster of homes referred to as "famine houses," so named because they were abandoned during the potato famine in the mid-1800s. They were beautiful, but it was also haunting to think about their history. Growing all around them were some wild blackberry bushes, and some other tourists and I helped ourselves. Perhaps it was the context in which I was eating them, but I don't think I've ever had such sweet and delicious berries!

Our next stop of interest was the village of Sneem, which was filled mostly with tour buses and souvenir shops, but also this:

Then the drive took us back to Killarney, where the mist still shrouded things, but we were able to make out at least some scenery:

We returned to Adare, where the weather was a bit nicer, and after my 37th call to the airline, we went to dinner at Aunty Lena's Pub, where I soothed my troubles with a pint of Guinness and some fish 'n chips. We also were able to enjoy a little live traditional music for a few minutes before we headed out.








Tomorrow will be our first day to actually spend some time exploring the grounds here and the village of Adare. This is what we meant to do our first day, but of course we lost a day and a half due to our flight changes and having to spend time going to the mall. Better late than never, as they say, and it will be nice to have a more relaxed day and a destination we can walk to instead of having to drive for two hours.