Dingle: Slea Head Drive and a Most Improbable Impasse Coincidence

Generally, return travel days are uneventful and rarely worth mentioning, however, today was an exception.  With a few hours before needing to be at the Kerry Airport, we set off for the scenic Slea Head Drive.  We started with a visit to Clogher Beach, a hidden gem with remote access and crystal blue water lining the rocky embankment.  Following a brief stop at Ballincolla Beach a few minutes away, we headed to our first Lookout Point with an elevated panoramic of the previous beaches.

View from our B&B

Up to this point, this was a typical, uneventful day, but, as we continued down Slea Head Drive our trip to airport became increasingly complex.  A few kilometers down the road from the Lookout Point we encountered an impasse of seemingly improbable coincidence.  We could see the standoff between a tour bus negotiating a sharp turn and a stationary station wagon.  Keeping the uninsured rental car in mind, we gently approached with caution and pulled over.

Goodbye Dingle

Don't do what this guy did

Us at Clogher Beach

Rocky embankment

From our roadside parking spot twenty meters behind the wagon we could see hand gestures exchanged between automobiles; neither giving way to the other.  Julie and I briefly spoke about the obstinate stupidity of the bus driver who refused to move the over-sized coach.  Suddenly, the wagon started to back up and we quietly protested their surrender. However, their maneuvering was futile, the car reversed again and we asked ourselves, "What could they possibly do now?" While we pondered who was plagued with the obligation of this impasse negotiation, the passenger-side door opened.  Much to our surprise, stepping out of the car was Joan.  We know two people in all of Ireland and had parted ways with them an evening ago, yet, happenstance had reunited us one last time.

Clogher Beach

Ballincolla Beach

Low tide

We discussed the ignominious bus driver, who finally conceded while we were standing in the road, allowing us to pass.  Following the wagon, we pulled over at the next Lookout Point for one last conversation, shared a final laugh about the ironic coincidence, and a had our final sending off.  Peter and Joan were concerned with our curtailed timeline and were adamant that we get back on the road as to not miss our flight.  We waved goodbye from the car as we pulled away and were back on route.

Lookout Point above beaches

Hillside rocks

Rushing to the tiny airport, we made it there with forty-five minutes to spare before boarding; surely enough time to navigate the pint-sized hub, or so we thought.  To stir up stress levels, we still had to return the rental car and make sure the €1300 credit card hold wouldn't be claimed because of some minor scratch or series of marks.  We collectively held our breath as the employee looked the car over, ultimately, giving it a wave of approval.  The verbal confirmation was reassuring, but we went inside to ensure we had the report signed for our records.

Lookout Point panoramic

A short walk across the parking lot brought us to the airport terminal and a backed-up security line.  The line appeared stagnant, therefore, we thought there was enough time to order something quick from the restaurant.  An order was promptly placed, but we waited... and waited... and waited.  The intercom echoed, "Final check-in for Ryan Air, flight number 1028 to Frankfurt-Hahn," however, we were still without food.  Moments later, our order was up, but we were forced to devour the meal as quickly as possible.

Tearaght Island

Clogher Beach again

After our competitive-eating-styled lunch, we were stuck on the security line when the intercom announced, "Final boarding call for Ryan Air, flight number 1028 to Frankfurt-Hahn."  Two more final boarding calls and a gate closing announcement resonated while we anxiously waited to pass through security.  Stress levels reached a rolling boil, but an Irishman behind us assured, "This is Kerrry, they won't leave anyone behind."  The kind gentleman's anecdote was reassuring, and as soon as we boarded the airplane, we took off; narrowly avoiding a minor crisis.

Panoramic of Blasket Islands from Slea Head Drive

Dingle: Horseback Riding, Blasket Islands, and the Whale that Didn't Exist

Our vacation in the Ring of Kerry has been full of adventures and our last (full) day would be no different.  We had plans to explore the Dingle Peninsula's surf and turf; except today was a rare occasion where minimal legwork would be required.  We began our day with a drive to Ventry, a small town of outside Dingle where we would meet Tayto and Black Jack, our equine transports.  Our horse riding experience is scant to say the least, however, it is a shade above carousel riding proficiency.

Horses deliberating on who will carry the humans

Julie petting a horse

Tayto, named after a brand of crisps

After signing all the death and dismemberment waivers, we saddled up and were ready for our beach excursion.  Luckily, the majority of our group were greenhorns, thus, the leader maintained an easy pace.  Trotting a few hundred meters south of the farm we arrived on the beach where tour groups opportunistically snapped countless photos of the strangers on horseback.  Following the paparazzi welcome, we rode along the coastline, climbed the dunes, and returned to the beach - where the guide was kind enough to take our picture.  The hour journey with Tayto and Black Jack came to an end, concluding the turf portion of the day.  

And we're off

Tayto taking a picture of us

The end of the horsey ride

Down the road, we had a quick bite to eat and an Irish Coffee at the Stonehouse Restaurant.  We then made our way down to the pier to catch a boat for an afternoon tour to the Blasket Islands.  Our excursion had a wildlife guide who provided much reason for whale-sighting optimism.  Unfortunately, with great optimism comes great disappointment.  The tour wasn't a failure by any means, however, five hours on a boat with little to see can cause unrest.  While there were apathetic patrons on board, we really enjoyed the dolphin sightings and the occasional puffin flapping by.  The best encounters involved the grey seals who periodically popped their heads out of the water like Whack-a-Moles.

On the pier

Off to the Blasket Islands

Great Blasket from the stern of the boat

Feeding birds from the stern

Somewhere near the two hour mark, all the surrounding wildlife decided to disappear and boredom burgeoned.  Both the guide and captain were equipped with binoculars while the rest of us normies were relegated to standard ocular vision.  At one point, they took turns climbing to crow's nest atop the boat and eagerly declared a Minke whale sighting.  Optimism was restored, however, the next forty minutes of staring at the rolling blue current slowly drowned out our naïve hopes.  Later, we continued to Tearaght Island, Ireland's western most territory and home to Europe's steepest funicular track -  which leads to the isle's lighthouse.  As we returned to shore, we coasted by Great Blasket Island one last time to watch the gallivanting grey seals.  By the end of our journey, Julie and I concluded the "whale sighting" was a ruse to spurn interest - like a parent telling a child cough medicine tastes like candy.

Tearaght Island and lighthouse

Our boat wouldn't fit through there

Elusive grey seal pictrue

Abandon homes on Great Blasket

After returning to land, we gathered ourselves at our B&B and drove the 500 meters down the road to meet Peter and Joan for dinner.  In only our second encounter, it now felt like we were dining with extended family we have known our entire lives.  We shared stores of our day's adventures and celebrated a perfect end to a wonderful vacation in the Ring of Kerry.  Sadly, the time came where we had to go our separate ways; said our last goodbye to Peter and Joan (or was it...) and returned to our B&B to watch the Irish sun disappear beyond the horizon one last time,

Dinner with Peter and Joan

Sunset from our B&B

Two Castles and the Cliffs of Moher

Our brief stay in Killarney had us back on the road the following morning and we continued the sightseeing theme en route to our next destination, Dingle.  Before setting off, we visited the local sites in Killarney National Park on the Muckross Peninsula.  We started with the Muckross House and Garden, a 19th century estate overlooking Muckross Lake. The attraction may not be, "fun for the whole family," but is a popular destination for elderly tourists; similar to the bus load of septuagenarians we saw at Kisasnne Sheep Farm.  Our transient visit lasted long enough to snap a few photographs, walk around the house, and through the gardens.

Muckross House

Need more chimneys

Gardens

A short distance away from the mansion was our next stop, Muckross Friary, an abbey founded by Observantine Fransiscians in the 15th century.  The reaming ruins are well preserved and the most notable among them was the cloister surrounding the yew tree.  We strolled through the grounds and explored inside the monk's sanctuary.  It was early in the morning and with one more attraction to see in the Killarney National Park, we started to debate whether to head to Dingle or spontaneously drive north to see the Cliffs of Moher.

Muckross Friary

Cloister with yew tree in the middle

Looking into the old church

After leaving the Muckross Friary we drove north towards the Ross Castle, three kilometers outside Killarney.   The fortress is situated on the Lough Lein (as did our hotel) and offers tours to visitors for a modest €4 admission.  The lobby inside the castle has historical information placards on the walls and  a scaled three-dimensional model of the fortification in the center of the room.  While observing the model among a group waiting for their tour, we mulled over the decision to join the flock or go see the Cliffs of Moher.  Time was of the essence, the guided walk through started in one minute, but our decision was instantaneous and unanimous - we would drive north to the cliffs.

Ross Castle

Lough Lein

Boats on the water

Bye castle, off to another castle

It was late morning as we prepared for the three hour journey.  We knew we would have to stop near the halfway point and cater to our growing appetites.  Approaching the midway mark of our drive the car's gas tank and our stomachs reached empty.  Conveniently, the fuel light glowed while we actively searched the area for a place to satiate both needs.  From the highway, we saw a castle in the distance and immediately took the next exit.  Subsequently, we found a gas station and the town of Bunratty; a small village with a castle that shared the same name.  We ate hearty meal at a restaurant adjacent the fortress and returned to the road after finishing our pints.

Bunratty Castle

Nom nom nom

Back to the road

We arrived in Liscannor around 15:30, pulling into the inexplicably backed-up parking lot.  Between the three kiosks, we (I) selected the worst of the bunch.  The simple task of pay and park proved overly complex for the cars in front of us (Note: there is nothing else in the vicinity; a parking lot on one side and the cliffs on the other).  Bemused, we waited for ten minutes before we could park and walk across the street.  We headed south, walking along the semi-protected trail and jumped over the small barrier to get a picture near the edge.  At one point, we found a small ditch where we could stand, but from a distance it appeared as if we were hanging from the precipice.  To conclude our time at the Cliffs of Moher, we made our way to O'Brien's Tower and observed the view towards the Aran Islands and Galway Bay.  Unfortunately, with the hour getting late, a dinner reservation, and a long drive ahead - our visit was ultimately cut short.

Cliffs of Moher

On the unprotected side of the trail

Branán Mór Sea Stack

We faced a three hour drive to Dingle and our navigation system directed us towards a ferry; but it was Sunday, there was no knowing how often it departed - if at all.  With no ability to search for a schedule, we changed our course to the slower, more scenic countryside.  The longer drive wouldn't have been an issue had we not had dinner plans to meet up with Julie's relatives from Cork, Peter and Joan (allow me to climb up the sequoia-sized family tree; Peter's great great grandfather is the shared ancestor with Julie's grandmother).  When we arrived to our B&B, both Peter and Joan were sitting in the common area sipping sherry.

Not quite falling

Walking towards O'Brein's Tower

Goodbye cruel world

While the ancestral relationship appears distant, Peter and Joan welcomed us as if we were immediate family.  Their company, hospitality and ingratiating candor made for a memorable account; unique in our travels and most cherished.  After dinner, Peter and Joan wanted to show us a great locale to watch the sunset near their B&B; ironically, 500 meters down the road from ours.  We took pictures, shared some more laughs, and planned have dinner the following night.

22:00 sunset