Coastlines and Countrysides (08.20.12)

08.20.12

After a brief breakfast overlooking the mountains, we set out on a journey to complete the Ring of Kerry. Heading out of town, it wasn’t long until we were back in the mountains along curving, narrow drives. There were many rivers and forests, as well as high cliffs to one side. I made us all stop probably about every five feet.

After passing these mountainous spots, we came upon another dark-watered river that ran under a quaint bridge.

And soon, we were upon the Killarney lakes.

This would have been my choice spot – I could have hung out here all day. It had rocky shores, calm waters, and incredible views. The mini-beach offered a place for many to sit. Technically you are not allowed to swim, and if you want to canoe you need a license, but it all had to do with invasive species getting into the water that they are trying to control. Of course, Eric said people do these things anyways – we have only seen one police car since we’ve arrived, and they’re never in the rural parts.

Traveling along this winding road and passing through the occasional town, we soon found ourselves close to the coast. Grand, wide beaches spread out forever, bigger than any beach I’d ever seen. The tide was moving out, and a group on horseback strolled slowly along the surf. The water, surprisingly, was not as cold as I expected. The wind was constant, but it was one of the most gorgeous beaches I’ve ever seen.

After staying at the beach for a bit, we headed up the narrowest road yet, up the side of a mountain, feeling like we’d tip over into the ocean any time. Making way for other cars and horses, we finally came round the mountain and peninsula. We began to come across several abandoned stone houses, which Eric explained were famine cottages, left from the potato famine. Often times they would be built for large families and whatever valuable livestock they possessed, purely out of stone in the poorest areas of the country, up in the mountains where the soil was inadequate.  These were the areas hit hardest, since they could only afford faraway land from landlords. Today they can be recognized easily, spotting the fields of Kerry, Dingle, and even Limerick, often with orange corrugated roofs placed there for respect or even re-use. Some sit in the middle of fields, other behind modern farmer’s houses. Out of respect and superstition, the buildings left on private land continue to live on untouched, the farmers not wanting to disturb any of the spirits that might have died there. Often times the people who lived in these famine cottages would not make it through the winter, perishing inside and leaving the house to fall into disrepair, roofs caving and often becoming ensconced with vines. I lost count of how many there were, but here was the first one we came upon:

After a quick lunch at a coastline golf club, we continued along costal roads, the whether becoming foggy. We witnessed more sites such as these old ring forts, built thousands of years ago by small clans that would live within these walls for protection. Again, most of these lie on private land, where superstitious farmers will let no one near them, often building or planting around this structures, fearful of disturbing any spirits or gaining bad luck.

Another example from later that day:

Panoramas from the coastline and country sides:

Our way home on the ring of Kerry was a journey through more farmland, where I dozed most of the way after an exciting morning and early afternoon. After returning, Mum and I went to go observe the pool, though had forgotten this was a lap pool. There was an older couple doing their laps, so we just decided to sit and read in the lovely spa area. It was so modern and different from the hotel, almost feeling like we were in another area. 

For dinner, we headed to the restaurant next door from the one we had eaten last night – Packie’s. I had delicious potato pancakes and a homemade pasta dish.  We again went out to the pub once more with Eric, finding some music. Of course, as soon as we sat, they packed and left. Feeling like losers, we finished our first glass each and travelled across the street to another pub, listening to an assortment of music. Several families were present this night, even with children. It is apparently legal to have kids in a bar till a certain hour, though no one observes this curfew, and our visit was accompanied by several small children with their parents. One girl even danced for the crowd in front of the band, boasting some Irish dancing she had taught herself. I know nothing of technique, but she wasn’t bad for a kid!