We left on a leisurely 45KM drive around Slea Head Drive, heading to the point of the Dingle Peninsula. The part where Dingle dangles out into the Atlantic. I'll leave it at that.
We made it about 4KM before we stopped for an hour and walked the length of golden sand Ventry Beach. It is hot enough I could have gone swimming, spent the day on the beach. In Ireland. Go figure.
We stopped at the pub owned by Páidi Ó Sé (Paddy O'Shea) who is Irelands most famous soccer player. I guess owning a pub is the thing to do.
Further on, I was interested in a couple historical things, like a 5000BC, late stone age ring fort, and some "Beehive" stone huts from 2000 BC.
Well, we continued out to Slea Head, where a crucifix marked the western point of the road, and blessed us all as we navigated the one lane road. From here you can see Dunmore Head, which juts out, the western most point in Europe. There was a great view of the Blasket Islands. Did you know Charles Lindbergh crossed here on his way to landing in Paris in 1927?
Zipping around a corner, we came upon a spectacular view over west Kerry from the headlands, so we pulled over and walked around, spying out Wine Beach. This is the "spectacular" landscape we have been looking for the whole trip, or perhaps this is really just more "regular' landscape, but we are so desperate to see something, anything that is more than just pretty and cute, we can't tell the difference any more. (LATER NOTE, August 2013: Compared to Switzerland this is just "pretty.") We decided to hit the beach, but first we pulled in at Tis Áine Café for a Tom Crean's beer and glass of cool white wine. We sat out in the patio with the spectacular view before us and just relaxed for an hour.
Well, after relaxing at the cafe, we hiked down to Wine Beach, a beautiful little scallop in a cove, and sat around a while, wishing we had our swimsuits. The rocks along the left side of the cove jaunt out at a rakish angle, adding a sense of drama to the waves sweeping ashore. It is a fine sand beach, golden, but signs warn of the undertow so no one is swimming. The black rocks, crescent beach, backed by green hills; today it could be Hawaii, all that is missing are the palm trees.
We found the Gallarus Oratory further down the road. It is the only surviving example of an early Christian church from 600 or 700AD.
Past that was another church, called Kilmalkedar. It dates from 1100 and the more interesting thing is the graveyard and stones. There are medieval mounded tombs, a really old cross half buried now, and an "Ogham stone" from around the year 200AD. The stone has these marks on it, and a hole through the top. People would come make oaths (marriage, sales, sheep transactions I'm sure) by touching fingers through the hole while swearing on the graves of their ancestors. Reminds me of the "needle in the eye, swear on my mother's grave" stuff we said in school. There is also a sixth century sundial stone, and another carved stone, along with some decorative columns and embellishments above the doors and inside the ruins of the church.
Well, enough history, Gail says, and we head back to town. After a short rest we walked back into Dingle for dinner. We returned to the Goat Street Café because the food was just so good, especially looking at the pub menus. Plus, taking the cue from our friends in Galway, I need to load up on carbs for tonight's (pub) workout. We started with a warm salad of chorizo, roast pear and goat cheese crostini. Then I had chicken penne pasta in garlic, pesto and chili cream. Gail had the same, but vegetarian instead of chicken. A bottle of French red wine from Languedoc capped it off. Norah led the women artists playlist, and though the café was crowded we were encouraged to relax and enjoy our meal. Veronica, our waitress for both nights, got the brownie recipe and hand wrote it out for Gail. We gave her our card, promising her a room if she comes to visit.
After a hug goodbye, we walked down the street to Dick Mack's Pub. We sat on the steps of the cathedral across the street, and listened to the Irish band (guitar and accordion) sing an amazingly stirring rendition of "Wish You Were Here" by Pink Floyd. No, really. They played other songs then, some touching, some corny, some sweet, but that first was a keeper. Soon a crowd gathered and joined us on the steps, everyone smoking, drinking and enjoying the cool evening. As the sun started to sink about 22:00 the breeze off the bay just felt so good. As we were sitting a couple we recognized walked by... where do we know them from...? It hit all of us at the same time. Two days ago in Galway we were all staying in the same guesthouse. They had gone off in a different direction, but here they are. Once again, a small world.
We started cruising the pubs looking for some good, traditional music. Keyboard and accordion, playing by rote. Nope. Two guitar guys singing American oldies. Uh-uh. Pub after pub we struck out... pretty disappointing after the great music in Galway. Oh well, it's been a great evening anyway.